her maiden voyage

So we took the Sawzall out back for her debut. Too clear the back 40 (sq ft) more or less.

There are weed trees all over the yard that testify to my nonagrarian lifestyle. One such tree in the alley was a roadblock to good scraping and sanding so it had to go. Or at least most of it. I had hoped to Paul Bunyan the bastard but unfortunately, it was more like the legendary logger than I...way taller than I had realized. And there were far too many cables, power lines and whatnot woven in and out of its branches.

But we were undaunted. The two blades provided are called "Wrecker" and "Torch," a testament to why marketing, in all its unctuousness, exists and works. I picked up the coarser-bladed Wrecker and started on the lower branches. Like butter. Even while on a ladder (well-placed and with a spotter—but still a little wobbly being that high up with a machine that can saw up to 3000 strokes per minute) I was able to lop off the offending arms and clear the area. Sawdust showering me and the unsettled insect hordes teeming (oh, you buddhists, don't worry there's greenery aplenty for the gnats to regroup in) I held that small, weighty destruction machine and tried to smile without parting my lips.

In less than an hour most of that tree was in heavy-trash sized pieces and so was a lattice frame on the side of the house. And some railroad ties. And several branches I'd passed on the way to the curb. I had to make myself unplug the thing so as not to bite off more than I could chew. A reciprocating saw...everything I'd hoped it would be.

If the fence or trees in my backyard were sentient, they would all be fearing for their lives. They would tremble as my newly opened eyes examined them for optimal destruction points. This is better, forgive my disloyalty, than the beloved whack-a-mole.