We live in a VERY old neighborhood. Our house is 106 years old and there are some houses that are even older. This means that we have some ancient trees as well. Unfortunately, not everyone takes good care of their trees especially when they’re on the parking strip owned by the city. We had three American Elms on our street that ended up as wood chips last year because they were beginning to rot from the inside. This was the last one standing:

This morning we heard the familiar sound of the wood chipper, so the kids went outside to watch them trim trees, or so they thought. Cathering came back in five minutes later with tears streaming down her face because they were there to cut it down, not trim it.

“What?? It was doing just fine last year and there are birds living in it!” was my ill-advised response. More wailing by both kids. Lots of wailing.

So they went back outside to talk to the man starting up the chainsaw. My husband went as well. After a while they all came back in, accepting defeat and the fate of this 100-year-old tree. They told my husband they would see if it could be saved, but the outlook did not look good.

It was impossible to escape the sound of the chainsaw and wood chipper, so we didn’t get much school done, to say the least:

The kids spent some time outside crying and yes, screaming for them to stop (emotional much?). Short of tying themselves to the tree they were very vocal and kind of hilarious tree-hugging protesters.

“YOU ARE THE WORST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD!”

“THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE!”

My favorite, “I WILL REMEMBER THIS DAY AS THE WORST TREE DAY EVER!”

Notice that Eli is completely impervious to the crazy. Juliet not quite as much. She was playing Stack the States at the table and kept saying, “Please. That’s too much. That’s too much crying.”

In the end, I think all the drama got to the so called “worst people in the world” and they didn’t cut it down! I was supremely surprised. It got a good trimming which it desperately needed, but not the death sentence that was slated for it as of this morning.

So now this day will be remembered as The Day My Kids Saved the Tree by Being Overly Attached to Inanimate Things. Their services are available for a small fee if the need ever arises.

I’m proud of my little tree huggers. Maybe not of their process, but definitely of their end-product.