I Just Need A Bigger Fireplace

Some mysterious substance was coming through the windows. I had gotten up at the usual time, come into the kitchen and couldn't believe my eyes. It was sunshine. The big, bad tree that blocked the sun was gone.

The gardener came to take the tree out as expected, but it proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated. He couldn't get the root-ball out of the ground. He wanted more money because he didn't realize how big the tree was. I could have held him to our contract, after all, he had seen the tree and root system before he made his estimate, but I took pity on him. I agreed to pay him nine hundred dollars instead of the original six hundred and he agreed to also remove a huge stack of dead branches that have been accumulating and fix the sprinkler. He would also cut up the tree trunk for firewood. (Sorry, Bulldog, I promise to have my fireplace cleaned regularly to prevent chimney fires from the pine.)

I went to work and came home to chaos. The dogs had been locked up all evening and Kelsey was sick. Vomit and diarrhea was all over the carpets, both upstairs and downstairs. Kelsey's latest chemo didn't agree with him. (The vet has agreed that it is time to stop the chemo. It isn't helping, it is making him sick and it is costing a fortune. He is now getting steroids and pain meds.)

I spent a precious Saturday off shampooing the carpet. It didn't get rid of the odor. It needs to be done again. My house is starting to remind me of my grandma's house. She was one of those cat ladies you read about who rescued stray cats and had dozens of them living with her. They weren't house broken and opening the front door almost made me do a back flip in reaction to the overpowering stench. My house is becoming like that. At least it's warm enough that I can leave the windows open to dilute the stench.

Back to the tree problem, I now have a huge stack of firewood, but there is a problem. The wood is wider than my fireplace. I really need to start putting contracts in writing and being more specific. How was the gardener supposed to know that I didn't have a six-foot fireplace? It was my fault. It was also my fault that when we agreed for him to fix my sprinklers, that I meant the underground pipe that was broken and ripped out of the ground by the falling tree. He thought I meant for him to replace a cracked sprinkler head.

At least it is sunny and warm.