Picking Up the Pieces

Well it may not seem like it, but we are making progress in cleaning up our little yard of devastation. There is still a phenomenal amount of wood strewn about, but order is being imposed. Bob and I are beginning to resemble "knuckle walkers" as our arms are being stretched from carrying all that wood. We'll never have to purchase firewood again!

Truckload after truckload... but the lawn is looking okay after the logs are lifted and the saw dust is raked away. There has even been cause for cheers as- amazingly!- several shrubs and hostas and perennials survived (a bit twisted) but alive. And most of the rhododendrons and the mountain laurel are actually flowering despite being hidden beneath a canopy of destruction...
We also mourn the plants and trees that have been decapitated and crushed.

There is a lot more light coming into the yard, along with an odd optical illusion. The yard appears so much wider that our sense of where the garden beds begin and end is skewed. It's hard to describe, but when sitting on the terrace, the first garden bed should be fifteen feet to the left. Weird. I guess it's the fact that the trees that fell were so much bigger than they seemed. It's all very disorienting.

But we make sure there are rewards after all that hard work, like these tropical coolers concocted with the coconut rum that Bob received from John (of Beatrice and John fame) for his birthday. Mix in pineapple and orange juice and a bit of seltzer and add an umbrella and you're transported to the tropics. It also helps to dull the memory of all that wood moving, and maybe even explains why the garden beds are shifting.

The Trees of Destruction Party

The party that we convened to celebrate the untimely catastrophe that is our backyard was a huge success. Everyone seemed in jovial moods (maybe because anything erupting in their lives- like blisters or hemorrhoids- became trivial when they observed the damage first hand. The cake I prepared (store-bought sheet cake/ hand-rendered decorations) was like-wise success; only a small heap of it remains. Photographs were taken by party goers as I happily explained how I sat around yesterday afternoon whittling holes in pretzel rods and sharpening pretzel sticks and inserting them with some melted semi-sweet chocolate as mortar. Bob constructed a pile of logs:

It was remarkably life-like, complete with the trees that remain upright, but with busted branches and capriciously leaning companion trees. I wish the clean up of the yard was as easy as the clean up from the party!
Several friends tried to make grand entrances through the side gate where the most danger is. Don't ask me how they chose to clamor through the destruction; I can only imagine the tragedy of having friends die with trees falling on their heads! Fortunately, the only casualty was my favorite outdoor lawn chair:

And this has happened before! Seems it's like a party ritual that a chair must be sacrificed to the party gods!  At least no one was hurt and a rollicking good time was had by all. Even Lil' Robin the Good is exhausted and sound asleep on my foot as I write this. (Her doggo friend Izzie attended so she had someone to explore the ruins with).
Friends were so nice. I could see the sadness on their faces when they viewed what remains of our garden. But they were generous, too. They brought wine and food (multiple watermelons! multiple pasta salads!) and several even brought us plants (and even a garden center gift certificate) with which to begin to rebuild our gardens. We are touched by their thoughtfulness.
Today, it's nice that it's raining and we don't need to do anything. Maybe we'll just nap like Robin.