The Dryad in the ballistic trolleys.....

Friday was a work from home day. The GPRS card only works in the bedroom upstairs, so I had a 'branch-side' seat to watch the tree surgeons take down the tree which shades the terrace. Said tree was in prime position to reek serious damage in the event of high winds bringing it down. Last year a whipping branch had threatened to lift the roof off the landlord's two-storey workshop in the back garden, and so it had to go....Tree surgeons arrived just after 11... two young chaps and one Dryad who seemed to fly up to the top of the tree on a system of pulleys and ropes with a nonchalance which would have caused envy among many acrobats.... fairly major palpitations were endured by the audience (me) as it was clocked that not only was this fella within a splinter of an Icarus fall to earth, but he was also sporting a chainsaw on a bungy cord which he dropped once he'd cut a branch in order to have both hands free to throw the branch down to the two waiting lads who were standing in the neighbour's patch.Fereday is in the habit, when he picks up one of the rabbits, of resting them on his forearm.... and Fereday has quite broad forearms.... but I think the Dryad's forearms could have balanced all three rabbits! On the phone to Fereday part way through the show, I expressed the view that had one of my young neices been here (18 and 16), I was quite sure that they would have been outside 'helping'..... Fereday thought that had the whole family been over from the US, my sister (a game single gel) would have been out there too while my mother took over the kitchen to make 'man-food' (and believe me, my mother's cooking to charm the birds - or the Dryads - from the trees)!By the time I got back from an afternoon appointment, the tree was gone and so were the tree surgeons.... aside from the gaping space in the garden and a bit of sawdust, you wouldn't have known they'd been there. The landlord, David, and I stood around surveying the scene - they'd swept off the roof of the workshop, swept up the neighbour's garden and the terrace..... we agreed it was a fantastic job.... the landlord had seen the Dryad close up - he was over 6ft tall apparently and Polish and very polite... David had been similarly amazed at the chainsaw on the bungy cord, but he commented that the tree surgeons were all wearing protective clothing, including 'ballistic trousers'.... which is just brilliant - 'ballistic trousers'.... sounds like something you need when you have a tough meeting to get through!On coming home, Fereday set off to inspect - poisoning the tree stump had been done correctly, so another tick in the box.... The house was much lighter, and it was a resounding 'yes' to a scheme using lots of roses on the terrace. All very easy so far, the lengthy debate over which roses lays ahead, though.... And, as if sounding the final note of approval, Dave the frog who we think lives under the Belfast sink planter in the courtyard appeared in the evening and thereby disabused me of my worries that he'd carped in the jaws of some local moggie or the beak of a magpie....And so I sit here on a Saturday morning knowing that, although my frog is hail and hearty, I have singularly failed in my duty as a good Lithuanian daughter of delivering a nice son-in-law or grandson-in-law (hard to determine the age of these outdoorsmen - Fereday still looks about 20) from the old coutry to my Mom.... Still, there are more trees out there that need to come down... so I'll be waiting for news from the landlord of when the next felling is planned and then getting on to my sister to arrange some flights..... and then I'll be off looking for some ballistic trolleys for work on Monday!Incidentally - any advice on ensuring Dave the frog makes it through the winter would be gratefully received... is there any foodstuff I could put out for him?

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