The Tree Might Grow in Brooklyn...

but it fell in my yard. I was out of school for Good Friday--and the beginning of our spring break--and was sitting at my dining room table using my laptop. I heard a crack, and looked up in time to see a large tree falling across my fence and into my yard. A small limb brushed across my storage building, but the top of the tree caught between two limbs of another tree.

We were having tornado-like weather at the time. We've had a lot of rain since the beginning of the year, and this follows several years of drought conditions. I've read that many trees are falling because the dryness caused the tree roots to loosen, and then the heavy rains have loosened the ground around the roots. When a strong wind comes along, the tree doesn't have the strength to stay in the ground.

My first thought was to call the neighbor who lives "behind" my house. I thought the tree was on his property, but had fallen into my yard. He was not home, and after I walked around the yard and thought about the situation, I realized that the tree belonged to me even though it was on the "outside" of my fence. When my husband arranged to have the yard fenced (when we were moving into the house), he put the fence about six feet inside the property line. That was because of the line of trees and bushes that were planted at the edge of our yard. It would have been an added expense to remove the foliage, and it provided a good blind on that side of the yard. My husband passed away just over two years ago, so he wasn't here to remind me what we'd done...

My next-door neighbor is a "tree man". He has cut down two other trees in my yard, and he'll probably handle this situation, too. I called my insurance agent Friday afternoon, but she's out of the office until Monday, and I think the cost of getting the tree down will probably be about the same as my deductible. The tree didn't cause any trouble with power lines, etc., and since it was "caught" by a fellow tree, it didn't hurt the fence on the other side of the yard. One of my husband's best friends came by and looked at it yesterday morning, and told me what I knew--I was very lucky: the tree didn't hurt anyone or anything more than my fence, I live next door to a man who can help me manage the situation, and there's no rush to get it down immediately.

I am having a DAR meeting at my house next Saturday, and I'd like for the tree to be out of the way by then, but it will be a great conversation piece. My husband's brother is the speaker for the meeting, and he's been trained in using a chain saw to remove debris from tornado-ravaged areas...wonder if I qualify?

The Elastic Was Almost Useless

My father-in-law's funeral was today. The visitation was from two o'clock until the funeral started at four o'clock. This was good for me, since we are giving standardized tests, and it is almost impossible for a teacher to be absent during test week. My planning period is the last period of the school day, and our school librarian took my last class so that I could leave school early and meet the family at the funeral home.

I went to visit my mother-in-law yesterday. She and I have been good friends since we first met, and we have in more in common now that we've both lost a husband. We are both practical and organized, and the first thing I asked her was if she had decided what she was going to wear. She had, and asked me if I thought a pants suit would be all right. I assured her that it would be fine, and did she know what shoes she planned to wear. She said she had picked out a pair that would be comfortable since she knew she'd have to stand and greet people as they came through to pay their condolences. I told her that since she was wearing pants and I was wearing a long skirt, we could wear knee high hose instead of pantyhose, and she agreed.

I carried my funeral clothes to school with me, and went to the ladies' restroom to change before leaving school. I had packed everything in my Mickey Mouse tote bag (teachers always have cute tote bags, and I've never met a tote bag I didn't like...), including my knee high hose. A voice inside my head told me to bring TWO pairs of knee highs, and it was a good thing that I listened to that voice...one of my knee highs ended up in the toilet (I'm not exactly sure how it happened...but it did), so I was glad for a spare. However, when I pulled on the knee highs, I realized that the elastic was not very good. I must have had the hose for longer than I thought, and apparently knee high elastic is not permanent in its elasticity.

I mingled with family and friends for the two hours before the service, and tried to be subtle as I checked on my hose to be sure they had not puddled around my ankles. I visited with my husband's best friend's widow, my elder stepson (who went through a painful divorce just after his father passed away), my mother-in-law's rather eccentric sister, and the minister who had conducted my husband's funeral. The service was lovely, and just the right length. My brother-in-law is a minister of music, and he had recorded two songs for his father's service. There were no graveside services, so we all met at my in-laws' church for an early dinner. I kept a check on my hose through it all, and did not have an ankle puddle until I was changing clothes in my bedroom.

The moral of the story? Knee high elastic is a small example of the greater philosophy--nothing lasts forever...

Peas in the Layered Salad

My father-in-law passed away late yesterday evening. He would have been eighty-one later this spring. His eldest son, my husband, passed away just over two years ago, and I think the loss of his son hastened his passing. In my husband's younger years, he had been a source of great tribulation to his parents, but shortly before he and I married (eleven years ago), he turned his life around and became a source of great pride to his parents.

I did not meet his parents until several months after we began dating. We were invited to eat lunch with them one Sunday after church. By then, we were engaged, and he had become a member of my church. We drove to their house after church, and sat down for the meal. His parents were very kind and gracious, and his mother had obviously worked to prepare a meal for us. She had made a layered salad, and one of the layers in a traditional layered salad includes green peas (also known as English peas).

I do not care for green peas, but will eat them if they are included in another dish. My future husband knew how I felt about the peas, so when the salad was passed to me, he was surprised when I put a helping of the salad onto my plate. He was a sweet man, but he could also be too blunt and outspoken on occasion...and this was one of those occasions. He looked at me and asked if I was going to eat some of the salad. I said that I was, and then he said that if he were me, he wouldn't eat any of the salad. I tried to communicate to him--without speaking--that he should hush and let me eat the salad! We were sitting across the table from each other, which prevented me from kicking him under the table. Of course, being the person he was, he probably would have asked me why I was kicking him!

The meal turned out well in spite of everything, and I remained close to both his parents after my husband's death. Until my father-in-law became too weak to stand and/or walk, he always greeted me with a hug and a kiss, and told me that he loved me. His memory began to fail even more rapidly after my husband's death, and he frequently asked his wife if my husband was really gone. My prayers for his healing were answered yesterday...and I am sure that my husband was standing at Jesus's side when my father-in-law was welcomed into heaven. He probably said "Hey, Pop! Let's go see Nana and Papa! We've all been waiting for you to get here!"