I was lying in bed, trying to pretend it wasn’t morning, and not hungover from last night’s birthday party, when a terrible racket forced me to open my eyes. It sounded like either a leaf blower or a chainsaw, but because it was snowing for the last few days, I mentally bet on the chainsaw.
I got up to investigate. And since I sleep in the nude, I didn’t want to scandalize my neighbours, so I put on my housecoat before opening the drapes. My prudence paid off. Looking out the window, I was face to face with a man, halfway up the tree, lopping off branches with a chainsaw.
He wasn’t alone. He had 2 guys on the ground working with him, picking up branches and tossing them into a chipper. That machine made a terrible racket when it dragged the branches deep into its maul and spit out the resulting chips into the truck.
Maybe it was the density of the cold air, or maybe the reflection of sound from the snow, but I was clearly able to hear them yell at each other, as they coordinated the removal.
The tree trimmer, havingcut off all the branches he could reach, turned off his saw and began stringing out new ropes, to climb higher in the tree. During this lull, he was the only one doing any real work. What do they say; “Idle hands are the devil’s playground?”
It seemed the guys on the ground had way too much time on their hands and were joking and horsing around. The young guy, obviously a newbie to the crew, was throwing snowballs, while the older one busied himself making a snowman.
He was clearly engrossed in his creation, and the younger one started teasing him, saying, “So what’s your snowman’s name?”
“Phttt,” responded the other, “Your new to the crew, what do you know. It’s not a snowman, it’s a snow-woman. Can’t you tell by her long skirt that goes down to her feet?”
“So, is this your date for tonight?” the younger one teased.
“Don’t be insulting,” the older one replied with a smirk, “She’s my fiancé!”
“Oh, that makes sense now. I’ve always thought of you as a cold fish; having a frigid wife would be very appropriate. But aren’t you afraid your kids will be mercurial, and turn out to be snowflakes?”
Just then, the guy up in the tree yelled out, “Okay guys step back, way back. We’re going to have a Monty Python moment.” He then started up his chainsaw and began cutting off a very large overhanging branch.
“What’s he mean?” The younger one asked.
“You’ll see.”
Then the branch he was cutting, teetered, and just like in all those silly Monty Python’s Flying Circus sketches, it fell directly on the snow-woman, squashing her flat.