“I am so tired!” Madame moaned as she set the fish on the table.
“Certainly not from baking the fish, Madame,” said the Musician. “It is so simple, no? Herbs, oil, bake?”
“I was chopping wood! Do you not notice the distinct lack of tree pressed up against the house?”
The storm had come through the day before, dropping immense amounts of rain, but also bringing high winds.
“I was in the office, working, as I often do,” said the Engineer. “I heard a loud whomp sound. I thought it was inside the house, but found nothing had fallen. I looked out the front door, and saw nothing had fallen. When I turned around, however, I saw a bunch of leaves pressed against the back windows of the house.”
“Oui, we were so lucky,” Madame continued. “The tree fell to the ground and only tickled the house. It could have been worse.”
“As it stands – or rather, no longer stands – the tree was actually two trunks, split near the base. The other trunk has fallen towards the neighbor’s yard, threatening their trampoline.”
“An amusing image, that of a tree against a trampoline,” said the Musician.
“True and fair,” declared. “But it presented a challenging obligation, of how to safely re-safe-itize the area, by careful removal of the looming flora.”
“And yet still the tree!” Madame was exasperated as she sat down, and served cuts of salmon fillet, with roasted baby potatoes and sauteed cauliflower. “I am not qualified to climb such a tree, but I took clippers and an axe to the one in the yard.”
“Aye, she did,” nodded the Engineer.
“That would explain the pile of yard waste I saw this morning. Whatever happened to it? It was gone when I returned from music practice.”
“The children!” Madame exclaimed. “The family next door insisted on helping! They said the children loved to move branches. They were like the von Trapps of tree disposal. No more than seven years old, they dragged each branch to the curb.”
“We are still left with the remaining problem, that of the other trunk. I believe we will have to call a professional. Our man went to great lengths to determine whether he could dispose of it himself.”
“What’d I miss?” Jody Hipster entered, leash in hand, having taken Polo for a walk on the rail trail.
“Nothing we can’t leave behind,” said the Musician.
“We might branch off the conversation,” said the Engineer. “Did the dogs bark?”
“Why no,” said Jody. “Why would you ask?”
“It was sick. As I chopped through, in the middle was soft, dark wood, like mulch. It is no wonder the tree gave way.”
“Poor old tree,” said Jody.
Clovis circled the table, angling for fish, his tail arched like a shark swimming near the surface of the ocean.
“May I?” The Musician’s heart always melted first.
“He is transactional by nature, that one,” said the Engineer. “Don’t expect good behavior supplied on credit.”
“Someone else do the dishes tonight, please,” pleaded Madame. “I’m so tired!”
