Going Green in the Thorns of the Texas Panhandle
This is a tough one.
In the high winds a few days ago, the huge elm next to the driveway lost a few significant limbs. One of the branches was a foot in diameter, but it was mostly hollow.
Drought, elm beetles, and neglect have taken their toll and left the tree too weak to withstand the 70mph gusts. The big branch lightly grazed the roof of the house and the a-pillar of my old car. Had the branch been a few feet east, the roof would need repair, the car would've been totaled.
Yesterday evening, I cut the branches into manageable chunks and stacked them near the garage. I'll haul them off this weekend.
It all goes back to that one word - "neglect". The tree, the house, and the car all suffer from a whole lot of neglect.
The house needs a lot of repair, refurbishment, and updates. Two decades of dogs, dust, and short attention spans have taken their toll. It can be restored, but it'll be a bigger job than I want to tackle at this point in life.
The car is still a great car, but the wrinkled hood, the faded paint, and the bare steel wheels tell a story of how little care the little Ford has received. Some polish, some paint, a new hood, some elbow grease - but it's a $1000 car that would still be a $1000 car after the work.
Many of the smaller limbs I cleared away yesterday were budding out. The tree still has life coursing through it, but the trunk and larger branches are hollow, soft, and rotting. I'd like to believe that some TLC and a good trimming could turn things around, but the truth is, the tree is dying and needs to be cut down before it hurts someone or something very badly.
Speaking of fallen branches, today is my older sibling's birthday. They passed away a decade or so ago. (And no, I'm not trying to be ambiguous. When I was born, I had a sister. When he died, he was my brother.) They died young(ish) after a long life of not being accepted by a lot of intolerant Texans and unloving Christians. It was a lonely and painful death. They died younger than I am now.
When I look around the house, I have a lot of great memories here - lots of great people (and dogs) and stories and songs sung with my wife. I have been wealthy and blessed in this home and in this life.
But I don't know that I want to fix all this stuff. Lord willing, I'd like to move on to a simpler place with fewer things that need fixing. I don't want to be that old elm tree - still standing, but hollow and barely standing upright.
As always, thank you for reading. I pray that you are well, that you are not overwhelmed by your stuff, and that you are remembered for your love for others and the joy you've brought to those around you.
