Thursday, March 30, 2006, 20:36
Once Upon a Tree. . .
I wish I had taken the digital camera outside while Randy was cutting down the jack pine last Friday evening. But I didn't.
It all started when we hatched the grand idea to make a cross out of the church Christmas tree for the season of Lent. Lovely idea, really. Symbolic. Christmas tree -- when Jesus was born -- and then using the same tree as a cross for Easter.
Only one problem, though. The trunk of the church Christmas tree this year was so spindly, it wouldn't make a very good cross.
Some of the other church members (we have a tiny church; thirty families) were getting a little testy because we didn't have the cross in the church yet -- and Lent had started with Ash Wednesday on March 1.
Randy brought the Christmas tree trunk home in the back of the truck last Wednesday. It had been laying on the ground in back of the church since January. (You should see how we get the Christmas tree out of the church: chop it up with a chainsaw and throw the pieces out the window. I'm not kidding. This is what we do.)
Unfortunately, this year's tree -- which looked fine as a Christmas tree -- had a thin, unsatisfactory trunk. Too bad we didn't decide to do this a few years back when we cut the church Christmas tree from my brother's farm. The spruce tree we cut that year had an 18-inch trunk, and we just about killed ourselves getting it into the church. If you've ever tried to carry a full-grown spruce tree with an 18-inch trunk -- and all of its branches -- you know what I'm talking about. It was a grand Christmas tree, though.
So, there we were, with a skinny tree trunk that just wasn't going to work. Then I spied one of the jack pine growing at the edge of our yard. It was sort of growing underneath the powerline. The electric company had trimmed the top out of it once years ago.
Jack pine, when given room to grow, end up with very straight trunks. And this one was a beauty. About six inches across, or maybe eight at the base. I didn't measure it. And while I usually hate to see trees cut down, this one was going for a good cause.
I like jack pine, by the way. They are tough. They are resilient. They are drought resistant. And the Native Americans used them to make canoes and snowshoes because the wood is so flexible.
So now comes the part when I wished I had gone inside for the digital camera. Randy started out with the saw. Then he switched to the ax. Then back to the saw again. And all the while, I stood out of the way, giving him helpful hints and instructions.
"Chop a little more from this side."
"Cut from the other side."
"Push on it to see if it will fall over."
"No, not THIS side. Push on it from the OTHER side."
"Chop some more from this side."
"Saw from this side."
"Saw from the other side."
"Push on it to see if it will go over yet."
In spite of all my helpful suggestions, Randy managed to cut the tree down anyway. Once it was safely on the ground, my husband cut off the branches and trimmed up the trunk, cut off the top of the trunk to use as the crosspiece, dragged the pieces around the side of the house, dragged them into the basement.
About thirty minutes later, the cross was finished. He had nailed the crosspiece onto the main part with three spikes, and he had wound white cord around the up-and-down piece and the side-to-side piece for visual effect. Then he called a friend to help him haul the cross into the church Saturday morning.
And now we have an 11-foot cross in the church for the rest of Lent and for Easter, too. One of the other church members bought some purple cloth and some black cloth. The crosspiece is draped with purple cloth for now and the black cloth is wound around the base. During Holy Week, the cross will be draped with black cloth to symbolize mourning.
Not bad for a jack pine that the electric company cut the top out of years ago. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph
Wednesday, March 29, 2006, 19:15
What a Difference a Day Makes
We left Monday at 1:30 p.m. for the eastern part of the state to attend the funeral for Randy's uncle. We returned at 6 p.m. on Tuesday. While we were gone, most of the snow melted!
Oh, sure -- the drifts did not melt completely. And the snow piles by the driveways did not melt, either. And the snow did not all melt on the north sides of buildings and hills and in the woods. But the fields are now clear of snow. And the horse pastures are clear, too.
The landscape looks very different without snow. In fact, it looks a whole lot more like spring! And now that most of the snow is gone, I am hoping the mud will dry up soon, too.
The four-hour drive to the eastern part of the state was fine. The roads were good. No snow. No rain. The only little glitch was a detour that took us off the four-lane onto a narrow two-lane state highway that ran through cedar swamps and was very twisting and winding and bumpy. The detour was scenic, though, I have to say that for it.
Pixie and Charlie were both very good dogs. Charlie loves to ride in the truck and would live in it, if he could, I think. Pixie does not mind riding, especially since she's going someplace with us. But I don't believe she's as crazy about the whole idea of riding around in a vehicle as Charlie is. After we got home, Randy went back to the truck for something. Pixie saw him walking toward it, her ears drooped, her tail drooped, then she turned and high-tailed it for the house. I think she was afraid we were going to put her in the truck again!
Sophie must have thought it was strange that we were gone overnight. As soon as we got home on Tuesday, she started tearing around the house, up and down off the bed, up and down off the couch, back and forth along the hallway, into the office and back into the living room, through the kitchen. Then she started to try to get the older kitties to play with her. They were not inclined to play. She could not understand why they were grumpy with her.
And now I'd better get busy making sandwiches. I am supposed to bring two dozen sandwiches for the Lenten service at church tonight. I have decided to make the "old standby" -- rye bread with cheese whiz, crushed potato chips and sliced olives. There was never any kind of event at church when I was a kid that did not have cheese-whiz-with-crushed-potato-chip sandwiches. And if anyone at church thinks my sandwiches are too strange, seeing as that kind of sandwich hasn't been served at church lately -- well, I bet they won't ask me to bring sandwiches again for a while! There just might be method to my madness, you know. Of course, the sandwiches are best if they are made with round nut bread, but I wasn't able to find round loaves of nut bread. . .
On the other hand, if you've never eaten that kind of open-faced sandwich, give it a try. They're simple to make. Spread the bread with a little butter (to keep the Cheese Whiz from soaking in too much). Crush some potato chips and sprinkle on top of the cheese. Slice some pimento-stuffed green olives and sprinkle on top of the crushed chips.
LeAnn R. Ralph
