Death of a Really, Really Old Tree

Today is the day I lose a tree.

My house is 102 years old now, and apparently, the builder thought it would be fabulous to plant some kind of a gigantic spruce tree approximately 4″ from the foundation.

I would show you what roots do to a basement, but there’s a chance the assessor might read my blog, and then I might never be able to refinance.

There is also the issue of the tree being split into two huge trunks which are chained together with some sort of contraption.  The idea is that the weight will keep either side from falling.  But I walk around with this impending sense of doom on every windy day – is my tree going to leave Anne and Eric’s children orphans?  Will it smash Kelly and Jody’s vehicles?  I just can’t live like this.

So goodbye, shade.  Goodbye, tiny little adorable pine cones falling on the tin roof and blocking the hidden gutters.  Goodbye, squirrel-y easy access to my home.

And goodbye to the last hour of peace and quiet (if you don’t count the sound of little glass marbles being thrown around a room with hardwood floors) I will get today.

So I’m posting some photos here – a memorial of sorts.  And I’m open to suggestions about what to put there to replace it.  Preferably something a little, um,  less tall.

Tags: old houses, old trees, trees