Famous Amys tree art

It all began two months ago. Let me set the scene: Asheville was being thwarted by high winds, I was upstairs brushing my teeth and Chris, Taylor and Ruby were downstairs playing, when all of the sudden – CRACK! – one of the gigantic 100-foot Poplars in our backyard snapped right in half, with the top 50-feet falling away from the house. Thank goodness. Because if the wind was coming from the other way, I would be blogging this from a hotel room. But, fate would have it, while we didn’t get our house smashed, the massive limb wedged itself into the appendages of it’s giant 100-feet tree friends. Making our backyard a catastrophe waiting to happen.

Enter my husband and his buddy, the Stihl, over-the-top, professional grade chainsaw he bought three years ago that had been collecting dust in the garage. After much trimming and deliberation he concocted a plan which involved throwing a rope around the threatening, top-half of the monster, weaving that rope around the other trees to prevent any house disasters, tying it to the back of the Envoy in the front yard and pulling it away from the other tree and down to the ground. And my job was to inch the truck forward while walkie-talkying back and forth with Chris in the back yard. And it would go something like this:

Chris: A little bit more.

Me driving.

Chris: Just a bit more.

Me driving a little bit more.

Chris: Just a little bit more.

SNAP!

Me holding my breath and praying that my house still had a back to it.

Chris: Stupid rope! Alright, ONE more try.

After two afternoons of tugging, a totally stuck gianormous tree branch and countless weird looks from our neighbors, we scrapped the plan and decided to wait a few weeks. until Ryan, Chris’s brother, came to town. And, what-do-you-know, those super handy Amys brothers managed to bring it down while everyone else was touring the Biltmore. Same plan, but with the extra horse power of Greg’s Suburban. But, it wasn’t over. A branch off the branch decided to get stuck in ANOTHER tree. A 40-foot branch, to be exact. I know what you must be thinking, that Amys family has some prehistoric trees in their backyard. Well, yes, we do. HUGE freaking trees that like to wedge their branches into each other and cause Chris to take Prilosec every morning.

So we take some time off from the branch of peril to open presents, and then, on Christmas day afternoon, Chris goes back after it. With Ruby secured on the outside porch, Taylor and I inside, Chris threw a rope around each side of the limb and proceeded to work the branch like a marionette doll, making it swing and dance in the holding tree. Which prompted Taylor and I to join Rubes on the porch for the performance, phone in hand and 911 on speed dial. And even though it refused to dislodge, it resulted in the neighbors across the creek coming out on their porch, bringing their styrofoam cooler and entertaining themselves in some Famous Amys Christmas cheer. They were all, Baby, you GOT to get out here and see this! And we didn’t disappoint. Instead of bringing the hanging menace down, Chris, myself and the Envoy-scheme managed to rock and relodge the branch to be horizontal to the ground.

And after the show we put on for the rest of the cul-de-sac, we once again let it sit and marinate for a moment. When we got back from Birmingham, Chris sprinted from the car to the backyard in hopes of a fallen tree. No such luck. After Tuesday’s high wind advisory and Chris calling home in two-hour intervals, the limb still didn’t budge. And even after using all of his pre-Outback Bowl adrenaline and cutting down the bottom half, the branch refused to come down. And here it sits:

I’ll be honest – It’s kinda growing on me. I mean, some cultures would worship it or deem it a fertility shrine. And maybe it’s just me, but ever since the tree has gone horizontal, Taylor has been sleeping through the night in 10-12 hour shifts. So it’s staying. Period. Done deal. And if we ever move and sell the house, we can have Ruby stomp some crop circles around the base and play up a paranormal presence.