A man in trees

On Friday, the contractor and a couple of guys came out to start work on our addition. The first thing he had to do was cut down two large oak trees. Silly me, I assumed he would sub-contract this to professional tree cutters. He didn't. He did it himself. It took over half the day and struck terror in my heart.

I am the daughter of a safety maniac. I know and follow every safety rule for any tool or machine made. I annoy other people with my knowledge of safety rules, but I am usually right. The rules are there for a reason.

Our contractor marched into our backyard with his two guys, two chainsaws, a very long extension ladder, and a rope. Notice that I did not mention any safety equipment as there was none. No safety belts/harnesses, no safety rigs for the chainsaws, no eye/hearing/head protection.

I watched the whole thing from a very safe distance, mentally running through first aid procedures in my mind as the day progressed, and hoping that the contractor had adequate insurance. I was sure that he would lop off one of his own limbs, or drop a tree branch on one of his guys. There were several times where I was sure he would fall out of a tree or off the ladder. I was amazed that neither of the running chainsaws fell, and neither did the precariously perched ladder. I expected that the man would put one or both of his eyes out with flying wood chips. There were several times when I expected a tree branch to fall on our house. None of these things happened, proof that God watches over fools.

After the trees were down, they laid the footings for the addition and then left. Later that evening, I took a picture of the gutted-to-the-studs bedroom and some of the concrete block footings. DH is cleaning up some residual fiberglass (I hate that stuff!) so the dog wouldn't get into it.