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We come home one afternoon and the husband looks up and says, "What the hell's going on up there?" and I look up and see that several branches of our beloved cherry tree are cemented together with webbing from tent caterpillars.
"Well," I explained, "Those are nasty little critters that are going to end up destroying the tree! They must be erradicated! Tout Suite!"
He shrugs, and carries the beer into the house (we'd just come back from the store).
I, being of somewhat sound mind (none of the beer was open...YET) and pretty able-bodied, get out the trusty pole pruner and proceeded to prune said infested branches from yon tree.
We have two in-ground swimming pools that we are in the process of filling in. One of them is completely done with dirt and the other was half filled with trash when we bought the house, so we've just been adding to it. These are fiberglas pool linings set into concrete. I had been throwing a lot of "green waste" into the smaller of the two, which just so happens to be directly UNDER this gorgeous cherry tree. So I toss in the amputated branches with the tent caterpillars in. I then notice that...hey, the pear tree is really close to the pool and those little suckers are going to escape and travel! OH NO! So I decide to torch the branch (are you following me here?)
I can't get the *^^#((&%@$$@* to light, so, um...a put maybe a teaspoon of gasoline on it and stood there with a cultivator rake and lit the pool. Well, it didn't light. Hmmmm. Maybe more gas is needed. Another teaspoon.
POOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWFFFFFFF! It was a 6.5 on the Richter Scale. Rattled windows. Shook shelves. Rocked.
Husband comes out to see the pool completely engulfed in flames. Old tires, lawn furniture, beer bottles, you name it, it was burning, including itself. Yep. Even the fiberglas lining. I'm just standing there with the rake (and most of my eyebrows intact) and he says calmly, "So...how big was the fireball?" I didn't even look at him, nor did I bat an eye (still had a couple eyelashes left) and said, "Oh, 12, 14 feet."
We both look up to see that now the cherry tree is smouldering. Oh, this is not good. Did I fail to mention that we do NOT have an outside water source? Oh. Silly me.
One of the neighbors was on her way over to her folks and sees the 14 foot flames coming out of our front yard and squeals into the driveway to help. By this time, we are doing the "bucket brigade" thing from the kitchen tap. We managed to get the pool out, but the tree was still smokin'.
We had not met this particular neighbor, nor have I seen her since, but I'm thinking that there was many a robust laugh over this particular tale being told over many a summer barbeque. Come to think of it, I've told the tale myself a couple times. Just wish I could get the husband to quit saying, "Hell, just throw it in the pool and torch it!" everytime I want to get rid of something.
Now spring is here and surprisingly enough, the cherry tree has recovered. I think I'll just spray for bugs this time.
Besides, the authorities say I'm not allowed to play with matches.[V]
"Well," I explained, "Those are nasty little critters that are going to end up destroying the tree! They must be erradicated! Tout Suite!"
He shrugs, and carries the beer into the house (we'd just come back from the store).
I, being of somewhat sound mind (none of the beer was open...YET) and pretty able-bodied, get out the trusty pole pruner and proceeded to prune said infested branches from yon tree.
We have two in-ground swimming pools that we are in the process of filling in. One of them is completely done with dirt and the other was half filled with trash when we bought the house, so we've just been adding to it. These are fiberglas pool linings set into concrete. I had been throwing a lot of "green waste" into the smaller of the two, which just so happens to be directly UNDER this gorgeous cherry tree. So I toss in the amputated branches with the tent caterpillars in. I then notice that...hey, the pear tree is really close to the pool and those little suckers are going to escape and travel! OH NO! So I decide to torch the branch (are you following me here?)
I can't get the *^^#((&%@$$@* to light, so, um...a put maybe a teaspoon of gasoline on it and stood there with a cultivator rake and lit the pool. Well, it didn't light. Hmmmm. Maybe more gas is needed. Another teaspoon.
POOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWFFFFFFF! It was a 6.5 on the Richter Scale. Rattled windows. Shook shelves. Rocked.
Husband comes out to see the pool completely engulfed in flames. Old tires, lawn furniture, beer bottles, you name it, it was burning, including itself. Yep. Even the fiberglas lining. I'm just standing there with the rake (and most of my eyebrows intact) and he says calmly, "So...how big was the fireball?" I didn't even look at him, nor did I bat an eye (still had a couple eyelashes left) and said, "Oh, 12, 14 feet."
We both look up to see that now the cherry tree is smouldering. Oh, this is not good. Did I fail to mention that we do NOT have an outside water source? Oh. Silly me.
One of the neighbors was on her way over to her folks and sees the 14 foot flames coming out of our front yard and squeals into the driveway to help. By this time, we are doing the "bucket brigade" thing from the kitchen tap. We managed to get the pool out, but the tree was still smokin'.
We had not met this particular neighbor, nor have I seen her since, but I'm thinking that there was many a robust laugh over this particular tale being told over many a summer barbeque. Come to think of it, I've told the tale myself a couple times. Just wish I could get the husband to quit saying, "Hell, just throw it in the pool and torch it!" everytime I want to get rid of something.
Now spring is here and surprisingly enough, the cherry tree has recovered. I think I'll just spray for bugs this time.
Besides, the authorities say I'm not allowed to play with matches.[V]
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