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Sunday, 4 November 2012

Trees 'r' good... And a giveaway!


I am sitting, nay recumbent, on the sofa on a Sunday morning.   I've been up since half seven, in spite of longing for a lie-in, and I'm trawling my interwebs, filling the dishwasher, feeding the fire its logs, and so on...

Suddenly, (I've never been able to say or write 'all of a sudden', since a belovedly Bohemian English teacher of mine, a throwback to the fabulously hippy Sixties, hell she even had a cigarette holder!), said 'Whenever one hears 'all of a sudden', one always thinks 'a big black puddin' came flying through the air!')...   Suddenly I am startled from my zombie-like reveries by the whirring and whining of a chainsaw.   Peering through the frosty morning, I am not wholly surprised to find two neighbours steadily dismantling a tree in my garden.

Am I alone in wondering, I wonder, whether a partner is supposed to communicate such things to his much beloved other half of thirty (long, long, bloody long) years, when he's taken out a contract on the tree with two of our neighbours who he met at the pub?!

Yes, he's been whining and whinging like the chainsaw for a while about the tree.   About a year, in fact.   Not that I've noticed.   Much.   Yes, it interferes with our otherwise uninterrupted view of the hills.   Yes, it blocks our way up the garden path.   A bit.    And, admittedly, it was growing terribly close to the telephone wires that lead to all 17 houses that form our neighbours in the top half of the terrace (we're in the middle.  -Ish).

But the last straw for the tree came yesterday, when our neighbours' new kitty, Pepper, decided it was an ideal vantage point from which to spy and snare young birds.   We used to have cats as pets.   I grew to love them and now I miss them dearly.   But going all snacky-snacky on young birds was 'Verboten'.   As much as you can ever verbote cats not to trap birds...


Sample bird commonly seen in Fhina's garden.   (NB:   No birds were harmed during the writing of this blog).

So, as much as I liked to see the green leaves blowing gently in light breezes, and as much as I hate to cut down any living thing, the tree's days were numbered.   Its time was up.   It was soon to be an ex-tree.   And as much as I thought I could replicate Owly, a wooden sculpture which I blogged about earlier, within the tree, it was far too skinny to do so, when I looked at it realistically.

And now the chainsaw has ceased its whirr, I have had my lazy bath and have managed not to flash the neighbours cutting down the tree, when I shimmied out of the bath-towel in my bedroom which overlooks the garden.

And here I am once again gazing out of the window.   This time at a patch of blue sky with a frosty, but fluffy, white cloud skimming across it on this golden autumnal morning.   The tree is no more.   It has ceased to be.   But wonders never cease.   The sun is shining, and I am amazed at the symmetry once again restored to the garden's outlook, where once there was only untidy tree in sight.   Now the green-golden-copper beech hedge, split in twain by the garden gate, can yawn without interruption.   The gateway is more clear.   I can see the road and the hills beyond.

I shall eat my words.

I live and breathe.   Sadly, the tree does no longer.   I think the tree was a bit of a metaphor for how stuck I've been.   How hard I find it to let things go.

How good is/are your partner(s) at communicating, I wonder, mes bloggy chums?   Do you take the rough with the smooth.   Is your communication with one another a bit like the tree of life, with lumps and bumps along the way, or does it flow like a river-stream under shady willows?

Do you still experience surprises, sometimes on a daily basis like I do?   What are your expectations of them?   Do they drive you mad?   How do you cope?

Answers in the box below - Oh, and please do follow me, if you don't already.   I have lost a few followers recently and the numbers go up and down like a navvy's breeches, and I have an oh, so fragile ego...

Ramble over - One random answer, or rather answer selected at random, will receive a hastily carefully chosen bijou bit of tat trinket from somewhere about my home, as I strive to de-clutter and free my mindspace for more sane sensible things...

I hope you will like it.   I have a no returns policy.


25 comments:

Mac n' Janet said...

My husband is a good communicator, telling me everything, even when I haven't a clue as to what he's talking about. Enjoy your view.

Joanne Noragon said...

Such a picture. DH Lawrenceian. I don't know it. Doing away with a tree is much easier if you're a man with a chain saw.
I've read on other blogs that follower counts are reported in fits and starts lately. But always there, nevertheless. Sometines in the frame, sometimes out.

Mrs Jones said...

My Mr Jones is one of those 'still waters run deep' types which means he rarely bloody talks to me. And sometimes he talks to me in his head and then gets cross when he asks me about it later and I have no idea what he's talking about. Still, we've been together almost 20 years so we must be doing something right!

Canadian Chickadee said...

Love your post, love your metaphors. For I too have been stuck. For years. Cannot seem to shed certain memories, ideas, beliefs, which I know are holding me back. My self-image perspective is skewed. Recently I posted a photo of myself on facebook wearing a very special hat (well, a straw boater actually, plastered with political stickers, including one which said, "Democratic Women are the Life of the Party" which I wore to a political rally). I thought I looked ghastly -- the hat was good, it was my face with which I took exception. However, two of my friends (which may be why they ARE my friends) proclaimed me "cute" and the possessor of a "hat face" whatever that means. (Can't imagine since the hat had no face veil ...) But I digress... I was actually planning to answer your question about husband/wife communications -- ours is pretty good, and I'm sure my husband thinks he knows everything about me and what I think. I don't contradict him -- not my style -- but I think he might be surprised by some of the thoughts that randomly wander through my head ... but maybe it's better for all concerned that he doesn't know and never finds out! Good to see you back, blogging again. I've missed you. Cheers! xoxox Carol

Gigi said...

After twenty one years of marriage it has been discovered that we talk to each other freely.....but we fail to listen to what the other has said. Which can make life interesting at times and infuriating at others.

Clippy Mat said...

He hangs on my every word!
Send me something.
Small.
In a padded envelope.
I'm already waiting.
:D

A Woman Of No Importance said...

Loving you lot to bits!!!

SueAnn Lommler said...

I am not found of surprises but when they do occur they usually totally amuse me!! Ha!!
Glad your view rewarded your trepidation.
Hugging you
SueAnn

Z said...

It's the sort of thing that my husband wouldn't bother to tell me but that I'd really prefer to know about. He's always been a bit that way, now is rather worse and it makes me feel unimportant.

Sylvanna said...

Doesn't having expectations of a surprise make the receiver unworthy of it?

A Woman Of No Importance said...

Dear Sylvanna, that's probably too deep for me, but thank you for joining our little debate.

I am de-cluttering my home, it's been very much an uphill struggle for a few years for me, to be honest, (and I am being honest for the first time in year) since losing my dad - This way I can feel better about getting rid of some trinkety things about my home - This is how I want to deal with it. Peace out <3

A Woman Of No Importance said...

...in years, sorry x

charmel tan said...

I love surprises. It makes my heart swell from appreciation. Also it makes me feel important and loved.
limo hire sydney price

Suldog said...

MY WIFE and I haven't had more than three or four serious arguments in our more than 20 years of marriage. I don't know if that's because we communicate wonderfully or because we don't communicate enough. Whatever it is, it works!

libby said...

After over 30 years together I don't think I would want any surprises in my relationship.....we seem to want to bumble along together until the end, taking each thing in our stride if we can......as for communication? well it's not always words we use for that....and women seem to be better at reading signs than men...not always...but mostly I suspect.

BadPenny said...

Husband & I used to enjoy talking over the day together now we talk over our laptops nodding...

He wouldn't do anything in the garden without me as the garden is my domain and he certianly wouldn't chop any trees down
because...
we don't have any !!!

Leave It To Davis said...

I LOVED this post. You are so witty. I don't remember how I found you before...if you had been on Moannie's blog...but I had joined up as follower before, then, because I was depressed and feeling sorry for myself, took myself off everyone's list as a follower. I am no longer depressed and am putting myself back on where I was before. lol Just don't pay attention to my ramblings.

My hubby and I get along very well and don't usually do things without letting each other know what we intend to do if it's something drastic such as cutting down a tree. Of course, we will be married 40 years in Jan.(if the world doesn't end next month), and so we pretty well know what the other is thinking most of the time.

Your writing makes me think of Moannie with all your descriptive wording that makes me visualize what you said in my head. I love it!

kapgaf said...

Ma chérie,
Here I am, like the bad penny, turning up again. I come and go (although I am surely not the only one) from one year to another but it is never your fault. Self-image is so hard to deal with and so very rarely the same as others' perception of us. I see you as witty and charming, down to earth but with an ethereal quality that lifts you way above the humdrum.

My Prince Frog communicates in fits and starts - too much information or not enough and the two are inversely proportional to the importance of said information.

Blowing you kisses (mwah, mwah) through the rain.

Kapgaf

Scriptor Senex said...

Hello You!
Of course I communicate with my partner - it is she who doesn't communicate. People in New Zealand, the USA and even Hope know what I'm doing - so it's not my fault if she doesn't read my blog. By the way, the plumber is coming next Thursday. She should read my comments as well!

My partner of 25 years just talks to herself and thinks she's spoken to me. Or she starts a conversation, digresses and then assumes she's told me everything. Her favourite phrase - 'Keep up with me!' like I'm psychic or something...

P.S. I love her to bits...

Saz said...

i just love to read you, l will endeavour to leave a comment more now, as I do miss blogland, but feel oftentimes that I am pressuring myself...something has to give and its mostly blogging and reading...

I sooo want tosee you and give your LAST christmas' gifts...lol

luv u ma soeur..
sara xxx

Munir said...

Why would you call yourself of no importance? You are a green person and you mean a lot to this earth. Trees may not be able to speak to us, but when we all meet in the heavens who knows they might thank us then:)I have not been checking my blog lately. I thank you for reading my blog:)

PerlNumquist said...

I am aghast to discover that "all of a sudden" is frowned upon elsewhere too. Mrs E has steadfastly refused to let me say the phrase for a number of years, and her ire has almost driven it from my vocabulary. I rather like it. But I cannot even use it when not in her company now, such is the icy stare in my mind's eye. Now that is communication! Disapproval from a distance.
One particularly frivolous Christmas eve, Before Children, emboldened by much wine at lunchtime, we decided to take down a hideous leylandii from our windswept front garden. Oh what fun that was. It had the last laugh as the wind & rain sweeping across the open hills, once intercepted by the tree, now hit the front of the house and came through into the dining room and made the curtains mouldy.

Robin Hill Quilts~Eileen G. said...

My husband was 24 when I married him and I was 19. I thought he was so mature and I was so proud to be his wife. And now 40 years later we still have some great laughs as we grow older together. We are polar opposites and test each other for sure!

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