After our recent snow, our trees lost several limbs. In itself this wasn’t the half. Some of them, some of the biggest ones landed on my storage shed. What a mess. Oh, yes, a couple of them totally mutilated my gate, which cost me me $200 and a couple of afternoons.
The steel shed, though it is now useless, did protect everything inside from physical damage. I am now considering 3 or 4 options to replace it. The thing is, no matter, I must first remove the ton, literally, of debris on and around it.
I looked here and there for some assistance, but it is to small a disaster to call FEMA. It’s one of those in between things. It’d be, maybe better had it been worse. (Now figure that irony)
So, every now and then, when I feel like it and weather permits, I take my rake, shovel and electric chainsaw out and work until I can’t. At 72, that’s not long.
For those that think I’m complaining, I’m not.
I saw a middle-aged man shoveling debris in Ukraine. He has every right to complain. He has a right to complain about Putin and his army. He has a right to complain about politicians who can and should have helped, but are more concerned about climate change. He had a lot to complain about.
Instead, he goes about his task. He is possibly feeling the pains of loss of loved ones and/or friends. He might possibly be wishing someone had sent more weapons and planes. It is not likely, but possible he wished the dems hadn’t cheated on our election. Even he likely knows that there wouldn’t be a war if Trump had been in the Oval Office. He would know that because Putin waited for Biden. Only then was there war.
No, I don’t complain about a little weather. There are many things that are far worse.