Living in Ireland: That Time A Tree Came Down

In mid-August the Irish village I live in started replacing sections of sidewalks (aka footpaths) on our street.

It’s now October and they are still working on it.

One might assume I live on a really long street.

Nope. Not at all. There are probably 14 houses along this stretch of road.

One might also assume this construction crew is juggling projects all over the area.

Wrong again! I know this because I finally broke down and asked.

Anyway, the point is I like to judge things I have no expertise in I don’t understand why, but it’s taking a really long time to replace the sidewalks.

So imagine my surprise when I left the house one afternoon (not much was happening in the way of construction) and I come home two hours later to find an entire tree that was right in front of our house has been chopped down and wood chipped.

(The cherry tree to the left of the machinery. This was taken a few days prior to Tree-pocalypse.)

WHAT?!?!

Prepare a girl!

I smiled and waved hello to James, Sean and the rest of the crew. Yes, they’ve been working here long enough I’ve learned their names. Then I casually sauntered up my driveway like trees being cut down in front of my house with no notice happens all the time.

I spent about 5 minutes unpacking my groceries and debating with myself on what I should do next.

Do I want to feel like an idiot? Or will I regret doing nothing more? Hmm…

Choices, choices.

Not a fan of the idiot feeling, I must say. Or the dumb American feeling.

But, I went out there.

And I asked the group of worker men, very sweetly, if I could have a slice of the tree’s trunk that they decimated was laying there in chunks outside my house.

I know they understood me because I’ve been told Americans speak very slowly. But it took a half a beat for them to process my request. Like, why in the world would she want a slice of the tree?

But, one of them – not the guy who would do the work – said, “sure!” And sent his subordinate off to the truck to get the chainsaw.

It took two of them and one mess-up (he didn’t make a straight cut for which he received merciless ribbing), but I got my wood slice.

They asked me what I was going to do with it and I said in a not-at-all-idiotic way, “I’m not sure. Yet!”

Honestly, I was so excited – ridiculously excited to have a slice of this cherry tree – that it was all I could do to not GIGGLE like an Irish school girl.

I tried to beat a hasty retreat after they gave me my tree slice, but who knew it was going to be so freaking heavy?!?

Not 5 minutes after I brought my treasure inside did I look out the window to see the wood chipper truck pulling away. That’s how close I was to missing out on this treasure.

It still boggles my mind that anything happened THAT quickly in this construction zone, but it just proves…I’m not sure what it proves, actually.

Draw your own conclusions.

The slice is drying and it did crack, but that’s okay. I love that wood slice. Someday when we leave Ireland, I will be able to take a piece of the island, from right where I lived, with me.

In case you are wondering, I still don’t know what I’m going to do with the wood slice. I’ll be happy to overshare all the details when I do figure it out though!


P.S. James and Sean said they’d plant a new tree with less invasive roots to replace the one that came down. I’m still waiting. But the new sidewalks are fabulous.

One thought on “Living in Ireland: That Time A Tree Came Down

Leave a Reply