I spent most of this morning on the internet, and most of the afternoon trying on and sorting clothes. I just came in from looking at the woods with the young guy. He's gone way beyond what he had to do - he had taken out all the rotting logs from long-fallen trees that I told him he didn't have to mess with, and now he's raking up debris.
Actually, I'm a little worried about all those logs gone. I have nightmares of thousands of starving termites and homeless carpenter ants looking up the hill eyeing that big pile of timber (the big rectangular pile with the new roof). Sorta like that movie from the sixties, where an army of migrating ants that eat everything in their path attacks an African compound. On the other hand, there are still fallen logs on the neighbor's land, so maybe they'll go there.
I'm left with a lot fewer trees than I thought I had. Most of what had been in there was brush of one type or another, and almost all of the smaller trees were sumacs, all of which he took out. There are very large areas completely open, between large trees. (Some of the sumacs had a trunk diameter of 12 inches - they were huge. They filled in the spaces.)
It being Memorial Day, I've been remembering Jim Hassett, and wishing I had been a better friend.
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