My ash tree stands securely rooted in the earth, but they want to top it.
For some time, Davey, a subcontractor to San Diego Gas & Electric Company has been working to chop my ash tree to the nub – or at least to make it so ugly that it will die of humiliation.
I’ve written about my trees before. When we purchased this property it had a wealth of trees on it – and a large number of those trees were healthy little eucalyptus trees that grew under the telephone and electric lines. After much grouching and complaining I agreed to let the tree trimmers take out those trees if they would replace them with three others. They took out 47 trees and gave me three trees to replace them: a magnolia, which died; a loquat, which looks healthy at about a foot tall; and an Indian paintbrush, which shows no sign of growing taller than my chin. It wasn’t much of a deal, was it? They also left me with the tree trunks, some of them as much as three feet tall. It cost a thousand dollars to have those trunks ground down. Ouch!
I thought that once the eucalyptus trees were gone, they would leave me alone. Not so, they want also to take down my ash tree. If you look at the picture, you’ll see a dark spot about the middle. That’s about where someone before my time topped that tree. (I don’t believe in topping trees.) It will never be a lot taller than it is now. It looks nice because a jillion wimpy sprouts have come out to hide the indiscretions of the past.
The tree isn't even close to the power lines
Every few months the tree trimmers come around and tell me they must trim the tree. They know they will have to justify that to me, and they dread having to talk to me. Sometimes they just sneak in and do it without a word to anyone. The last time they did that, they left a broken branch. It looks like they whacked it with the cherry picker. It should have been sawn off further down the trunk, but I must have been coming up the drive way. I came home to find it that way.
You can see in the photo above that the tree hasn’t grown close to the power lines. If that’s so, why were they here? Now they want to top the tree so it won’t fall in a heavy wind and take down a power line. Silly. First of all, they always measure the 12-foot zone from the top line, which is the telephone line. They never, ever, measure the 12 ft from the power lines. Secondly, the trunk of the ash tree is huge and thick. The top of it is light and fluffy. We live in a valley where the winds are rarely strong. Even in the strong winds we’ve had, the tree hasn’t budged. I think it has its roots in the ground water far below.
I'm standing in the road looking at the lines above me and the tree
Top the tree? No good reason, except for one. I’ve named it the money tree. Every time they come out to harass me about the tree, they get to charge the gas and electric company. If they topped it – for reasons of this dangerous tree falling on the lines, they’d get money. They are paid to harass me and my trees.
I get so angry when I think of this. I love my remaining trees. I see no reason for it to come down.
Marilynne
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I love to add photos to my posts and I love to read blogs with photos. I guess all of us like pictures to add meaning to the words. So, today, some very old photos. My father loved the camera. We were posed, often for Christmas Cards, but sometimes just for our grandparents who didn’t live close. These particular pictures show me growing up.
Me about 3 with my little brother Dicky.
Dicky and I (Sugie) shed those nicknames as soon as we could. Here we are in our babyhood.
Billy joins us. He didn't like his nickname either.
Ruthie and I at camp.
Bobby has joined the group. I've already rebelled and am known as Marilynne.
Roy and I and our three children
Roy and I in a grownup moment.
Me with two of our grandchildren. They're growing up too.
Roy and I on our 50th anniversary
When did it all happen. I still remember most of those times. Time has gone so quickly.
Marilynne
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Are you good at first impressions? Can you tell things about a person’s personality in that first meeting? I’m notoriously bad at it. So bad, that I rarely trust that first impression.
Let me tell you about a recent first impression. I have problems with my heart. I decided to go to a cardiologist who was closer to home and one who could meet me at the closest hospital to my home, if necessary. I don’t know about where you live, but here the hospitals are very clickish. Stone throwing between hospital personnel is common to the disgust of everyone else.
It seemed right to change. My old cardiologist is 35 miles from home and it’s not at all convenient to see him. So, I went to meet the new cardiologist. My first impression – male chauvinist pig. He was curt to everyone. Talked down to me. Seemed to expect me to keep my mouth shut and do what he said. I heard him yell from his office “[office girl] how long does it take to go to the mailbox and bring back come coffee?” It sounded so nasty. I noticed the staff was treading gingerly. No chit chat. No pleasantries with the patients. Just working quietly.
Did I want this man by my bedside in times of crisis? Let’s think about that. If I need him to meet me at the hospital, what do I need? I need the best doctor I can find to help me through a crisis of the heart. Does his personality matter or only his excellent skills? I’ve been thinking about this while I went through an electrocardiogram of my heart and a stress test. Could I work with a man who has no personality, but very good skills?
Yesterday I returned to hear the results of the tests. The doctor had an emergency at the hospital and was not available. In his place I was seen by a young nurse practitioner. She seemed to have almost as many degrees as the doctor did. We were almost done when the doctor arrived.
He was bouncy, bubbly, elated. I was surprised. The rest of the visit went well.
Now I have two times to compare. At the first visit he’d been bad tempered. At the second visit, he was in a good mood. Why? Maybe because yesterday he’d won the battle and he loved the victory of it. Is this a doctor I want by my side in times of crisis? You bet.
You see why I don’t really trust my first impressions.
Marilynne
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