The oil slick in my backyard...
While no turtles, pelicans, or dolphins were harmed, one delicate state of mind of a Tracy was pushed to the limits and beyond...
I hired a tree trimmer to prune our trees. With the summer monsoon season around the corner, we wanted to make sure the trees could withstand the wind.
Smart right? Right!
I specifically hired a guy who wouldn't drop off a 'crew' of workers and leave. I wanted to make sure who I hired would be the one doing the work.
Smart right? Right!
I interviewed a certified Arbourist, and a 'tree trimmer'. The Arborist wanted 1,600 dollars. The tree trimmer wanted 500. I hired the 500 dollar guy because I can't sell blood or internal organs to pay a tree trimmer.
Smart right? hmmmm... maybe, maybe not.
Could Roger and I have done the work ourselves? Yes, we could have. I just would have had to listen to Roger bitching while dangling from the trees.
500 dollars...bitching...500 dollars...bitching...hmmm...I decided spending the money was better.
Smart right? hmmmm... as it turns out...not so much...
Here is what happened...
Roger arranged to take the morning off to 'supervise' the tree people. He is the picky one, and so I hired the guy, made the arrangements, and his part was supervision. I was in the house with Jacob and we were working our way though the last few chapters of American History. We got through the riots in Alabama and up to Kennedy landing in Texas at the Lovefield Airport.
I had successfully avoided watching outside because I knew there was some degree of plant trampling going on, and I don't ever like to watch that. The trimming was concluded, and paid for, and off he went. That is when my husband made an off-handed comment about clearing a flowerbed.
Wait...What?!? I asked him what he was talking about, and he told me that he had cleared one of the flowerbeds.
He showed me his handiwork. It was a flowerbed that I loved. It had a variety of plants whose purpose was to provide afternoon shade for my kitties. In this flowerbed was Lady Banks Rose, Katie Ruella, Bouganvilla, Yellow Dot Flower, verbena, and one Pomegranate tree. It was full, green, gorgeous, and superior shade in from the afternoon sun. I had been growing that area for two years. Two years of work GONE in 20 minutes.
So, that would be one VERY upset me, and a husband in BIG trouble. We exchanged 'words', and he left for work. I stomped around the house for awhile before I went outside again to survey the impossible to imagine damage. That is when I noticed that the surface of the pond was solid with a thick coating of oil.
I immediately went to the pond and just stared at it helplessly. I called my husband to find out how the **BLEEP** I am going to get oil out of the pond.
Here is where I am going to mention that I have covered the BP disaster from day one. I know how they are getting oil out of the Gulf...but I couldn't think in smaller terms. THAT and I was watching my Koi, and other fish swimming in yuck. I was frozen, and couldn't think. So I called my flowerbed destroying husband, and he told me to use paper towels to soak up the oil. (duh!) Of course paper towels would soak up the oil. I'm a moron...
I spent Friday drinking (adult beverages)...it WAS technically after noon when the horror in the backyard began...I was drinking and in a squat position with paper towels. I would put a fresh towel on the surface, when it was saturated, I would fling it out of the pond and put on another. I used three rolls of paper towels, and was in a squat/lunge position for the better part of the afternoon.
By the time my husband got home, I was nicely intoxicated and was nearly immobile.
I couldn't have left a room quickly if I had wanted to...
Roger spent the weekend saying how sorry he was, and I spent the weekend avoiding going up and down the stairs more than once a day. ;)
Other than broken pond plants (I had JUST gotten some stolen horsetail plant to grow), the pond recovered, my legs regained their usefulness, and I shamelessly used the sorry husband to the fullest extent. ;)
He is STILL in trouble every afternoon when my kitties are wondering what happened to their moist summer shaded wonderland...but the kitties and I have the capacity for forgiveness.
EXCEPT for the tree guy. I stopped payment on the check and renegotiated the amount due to reflect the fact that he **BLEEPED** up my pond, causing me painful legs, and an afternoon of drunken oil removal.