Nothing Green can Stay

"I would like to report a crime please." The desk Sargent looks up from his paper with a bored expression on his face, slaps down three pieces of paper on the desk in front of him, and asks "your name?" "My name is GI," I reply a bit shakily since the crime in question had happened a mere few minuets ago. "Name of the person you are complaining against, and the nature of the crime." "Simple," I say "Her name is Mother Nature, and she just attempted to murder/assassinate me." That gets his attention he looks at me through narrowed eyes, and says "look buddy, I do not know, nor do I care, what fucking drugs you have to take in order to make yourself believe that Mother Nature tried to murder you, but this is a police station, not a lunatic asylum." "Filing a false offense report is a felony, so why don't you just get up, and leave, and I will pretend this did not happen." "Sir, I am serious." "Not more than 48 hours ago that bitch Mother Nature tried to kill me." Now if I were a better writer of dialog, I would continue to tell the tale of my attempted murder along this story arc, but since I suck at it, allow me to explain why this post is being written. I have a small yard at my house, and it is a constant source of angst for me. It seems I have grass that grows like it has a grudge against the world, and therefore, requires mowing at least twice a week. It is amazing. I LOATHE yard work. I went to nearly a decade of school(s) so that would no longer be forced to do yard work. In my opinion the day I was handed a diploma I said goodbye to yard work. Being fantastically wealthy I do not feel the need to nurture the world by making shit grow. In fact, I get a certain sense of sadistic pride in cutting shit DOWN. Trees in my yard are not safe. I purchased a handy dandy tree lopper just so I can lop off trees heads like Robespierre during the Reign of Terror. I lop them with undisguised glee. However, of course the bastards just grow back again. Thus, my unending war against all things green. I have big plans for this war. Large swathes of my fee simple are going to be laid to waste, and sown with salt to ensure that I win this war. Well, on Friday Mother Nature decided to fight back. The photos above are of my house and the huge fucking tree that the bitch lobbed with evil intent onto my house. As you can tell, it was not a small tree, and as of this writing is still on my house awaiting some lunatic with a crane, a chain saw, and a death wish to come remove it. All for the low, low price of around $1800 American dollars. Good times. A hole in the roof, and a rainstorm or two has added to Mother Nature's crimes. I need roof repair, gutter repair, and a stiff drink. The drink was necessary because the kicker of the tree attacks house story is that not thirty seconds before the tree "fell" (or was pushed) I was standing in its landing zone. Good thing I did not drop any of the items I was carrying into the house, or this post might be written as an obituary. It might not have killed me, but it certainly would have given me a peek at the other side. Thus, my complaint that Mother Nature, that dangerously insane cunt, is trying to kill me. So war it is, and it is going to be a long one. I understand that she has forces at her control that can pick me up like a rag doll, and toss me miles away, or forces that can crush me like a bug. Legions of animals at her beck and call, can devour me whole as a snack (and I am not a small man). Whole acres of ground can open up and, swallow me at the wave of her outstretched hand. Plagues, diseases, fires, pestilences, and all sort of nasty things are at her disposal if she wants to rid the world of my stain. My power pales somewhat in comparison. However, I am stubborn as an Army mule, and I hold a grudge. I have reestablished plans to build a particle accelerator in my bathtub in order to arm myself with nuclear weapons. All I need is a little plutonium, and I am set. Until then, I will have to do with my tree lopper, weed whacker, lawn mower, and an indomitable will to win this war. Consider this post to be my declaration of war on good old Mother Nature. I plan on turning my freehold into Hell's Half Acre for Mother Nature. Until one of us quits, or is crushed like a bug (or by a bug), within my dominions (i.e. my house and small yard), Nothing Green Can Stay.