Thursday, January 6, 2022



I'm not talking about this kind of meltdown. The world is melting around me but I'm talking about the other kind. 

I went to bed Tuesday night feeling fine and then I suddenly realized......the tree that was just outside my window every night for almost 30 years was not there anymore. I used to open my curtains and watch it sway in the wind, glisten with rain and collect snow. I cried and cried and cried. 

I planted it to give me some privacy from the neighbors in front of us and now I have none. No open curtains at night for me anymore. They can see me and I can see them.

No more wind chime that tinkled from it's branches in the breeze. It would lull me to sleep. I never realized how much it meant to me until right then and it was awful. I had lost a friend.

It was my sad little Christmas tree that was bent when one of the kid's friends backed into it years and years ago. 

It made a great backdrop for mug shots of woolly things. 

The whole time we were pulling it off the house and cutting it up I never gave it a thought. It didn't hit me until I looked out that window and it wasn't there. It was shocking to be grieving so hard for a tree but there it was and it was terrible. 

Now only this muddy spot remains. Like so many things I've lost along the way, I thought it would be here forever. I could replant in the spring but it won't be tall enough to reach my window in my lifetime-which is a whole other thing that you shouldn't be thinking about in the middle of the night.  

Now that I've bummed everyone out, let me end on a happier note. On New Year's Eve I treated myself to a new pair of Crocs. They arrived yesterday afternoon. I've never had turquoise ones and just unwrapping them made my day a lot better. I'm going to make this a New Year's tradition. Every year a new color. 
Life goes on.


  1. I'm so sorry. I know a little of how you feel. When I was in 1st grade I planted a maple tree in our backyard. Last time I visited here I drove by the house and there it was tall and proud, towering over the house after 55 years. When we moved here last summer, I drove by and they had cut it down. I cried then. It was like one of the last pieces of my childhood was gone.
    I'm so sorry Debbie. I know how much your trees mean to you. Each one is like a blow and this was one extra special.
    But...I love your new crocs. They made me smile. Pretty, pretty.

  2. So sorry. I do know that feeling.

  3. Even if a new tree won't get that big, you should plant a new one. Or maybe a large shrub or something different.

    We have a large Norway maple on the non-driveway side of our house. Our driveway is quite narrow, and there's no room to make it wider. Dave wants to take the tree down, and build a second driveway on the opposite side of the house and create a large horseshoe drive around the back. Just the thought of taking the Maple down makes me want to cry. Bob Ross was right... trees are our friends.

  4. You are clever and you might think of something else to put there that will block the view of your neighbors. You could have a privacy fence built with all of that wood... Cute crocs. Glad they lifted your spirits!

  5. Oh I might be crying too. Our trees are a big part of our property. We have had to take about 30 dead pines down over 5 years. WE have put 12 new trees in I treat them as if they were babies. I'm sorry Deb

  6. Trees leave a hole in the sky when the come down. It takes a long time for that hole to close. Love your turquoise Crocs!

  7. Yup, just grieve the loss and the new view. You could plant some bamboo and it would be a WALL in just 4 years! You can manage that! The new crocs for new year's is a great tradition!