I took a quick trip back to Michigan recently. I left Sweetie and the kids behind in Arizona and crashed on my parent's couch for a week.
This is where I grew up, an spectacular place to be a kid. Plenty of adventures were had at this peninsula house, surrounded by a lake. This was the location for the neighborhood kid's countless hours of army battles, Star Wars adventures, fort construction, swimming, fishing, and boating.
The trip really wasn't a vacation thing. It was a trip to hang out with my Dad and give him a boost of support, since he's just been wholloped with a serious health challenge. It's cancer, some serious shit too.
The old man is a tough dude; he's going to fight this with gusto and humor. His attitude remains absolutely incredible, even as the battle saps at his strength. We had a really good time together, talking, joking, eating, and zipping around town in his sporty convertible. We hadn't spent this much time together, just the two of us, since I left Michigan nearly 17 years ago. Since he's slowing down a bit and focusing on his health, I got a chance to bring some DIY skills to bear and help my folks with a mini-blitz of home repair projects while I was there.
The house is an old cottage with with God knows how many additions over the years. My folks have been working on it for about 40 years. I remember "helping" my dad on his projects, from munchkin age, well into my teen years. I'd mowed this lawn for hours and raked tons and tons of leaves here, as well as getting my first taste of home renovation by my Dad's side.
I still have a vivid memory of my dad working on the lower deck. He'd managed to catch a horrible case of body-wide poison ivy. The Doc had given him a healthy dose steroids to fight it. I recall looking out and seeing him with two, extra long 2 x 6's on his shoulder, literally sprinting past the window. He was so amped up on steroids that I swear I remember him building that deck in an hour, with no nail-gun. I don't even think he used a hammer; just punched the nails into place with his raw 'roid power.
The deck facing the "beach" It's a beautiful piece of land the old house sits on, with beautiful water, reflecting the trees on all three sides.
It was absolutely teaming with wildlife, bugs, fish, birds, muskrats, frogs, and this little sweetheart:
Muskrats, ice storms, and strong winds have done their worst to the beautiful trees over the years. Although the loss of a tree is sad, at least it opens more views of the lake. Unfortunately, it leaves ugly stumps like this one, smack-dab in the middle of the front yard, a cedar lost in the winter.
A fun little project to help out with, eh? You know I don't saw up trees back in Phoenix, just the occasional giant sugurao cactus.
My brother Jim took the day off and joined me, with his trusty, red handled, macho-man ax from home. I found a matching pair of sweet, wee electric chainsaws and a mismatched pair of gloves in the basement (The Indiana Jones, Fortune and Glory T-shirt was all mine, 'cause that's how I roll when I'm choppin' wood).
Top men for a serious job.
We decided to lop it down to size with the chainsaws first. We thought, maybe we could cut it down, just below ground level, perhaps drill some big holes in what was left, and let it rot away.
We topped both of the lil' saws up with oil to keep the chains in good order and got to work.
We took turns with the diminutive chain saws. There was no point in overheating their motors when we had two on hand. Just like with unlicensed nuclear accelerators, we carefully kept our distance from each other,..
... because crossing them would be bad.
Dr. Peter Venkman:I'm fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What do you mean, "bad"?
Dr. Egon Spengler:Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.
Dr Ray Stantz:Total protonic reversal.
Right. That's bad. Okay. All right. Important safety tip.
- Dr. Peter Venkman
After a while, we decided the chainsaws just weren't cutting the mustard (or the stump). Jim brought his mighty ax into the fray.
We switched our focus to the roots. This whole tree had tipped over at one time after all. Surely there wasn't a beefy tap root to contend with. We'd chop all the surrounding tendrils and hopefully rip this entire monstrosity from the ground.
Chopping like a warrior poet.
We took turns swinging that ax, cleaving root after root and prying Needless to say. It wore us the hell out.
Yes. I'm wearing steel toe work boots
No, he's not wearing steel toe work boots.
Expletives deleted.
In the end, we ripped that tenacious beast from the grasping clutches of the moist, root-filled earth and wrestled it into the wheelbarrow. The initial victory was very sweet, but the following three days of aching muscles, dulled the feeling.
My dad came out to join us for the victory lap as we wheeled the beast to its final resting place in the woods.
I simply must get a dual-wheeled barrow like this.
Good riddance, Beast.
I'll share more of the DIY blitz projects Jim and I fiddled with at the old homestead soon.
I'll close by sharing the ride that replaced my truck for the week. It's been a long time since I drove a small car or a stick shift. Heck, I don't think I'd ever driven a convertible before. It sure was fun sprinting about town with my old man, our hair blowing in the wind as I slalomed round Michigan's never-ending minefield of bottomless pot-holes.
Join us next time for the thrilling conclusion of the Michigan DIY blitz! There will be a much better view of Jim's legendary sideburns. Promise.
UPDATE: Here it is: