A few hours ago, I got a call from my excellent friend and next-door neighbor, Mike.
From his back yard, on the other side of the wooden fence that separates our yards, he had noticed something wrong with my house.
The huge, tree-like bushes that run along our shared property line, in our back yards, had grown enormously, since the last time that I had trimmed them back.
And he could see from his yard that several of the branches in the southwest corner of my house had grown up and out enough to overhang and rub against the shingles of my roof.
It seems like the last time I saw them, they were a lot shorter, and about the diameter of my thumb.
Now, at their bases, they were bigger than my thighs.
Mike asked me if I’d like him to help me trim those branches back away from my house.
I thanked him for the offer, but told him that I’d like to try to trim them myself, like I’ve done countless times in the past, before my stroke.
So, I got my hand saw, my step ladder, and positioned myself to start cutting one of the main branches off, about 8 feet up from the ground.
As I labored on that one branch, Mike suddenly appeared below me, standing next to my ladder.
He explained that, although I was currently working on one of the main offending branches, I was cutting it at a point that was way too low, and would have resulted in the huge branch, after being cut, to fall and cause a lot of damage to my house.
I understood what he was telling me.
A minute later, Mike had propped my 20-foot extension ladder against the side of my house, and was up near the top, trimming branches.
I stayed on the ground, watching, and getting covered with sprinkles of sawdust.
After several cuts, we both dragged several branches to my front yard parkway, to be picked up by the city, tomorrow morning.
Then, he continued his trimming, dropping the trimmed branches out onto my back lawn.
I held the ladder, to give it more stability.
For an hour or more, he repeatedly trimmed, and we repeatedly dragged, until the corner of my house was, once again, free of any branches.
The bad news was that, as he had suspected, the trimmed branches had spent a few months, rubbing against my roof’s shingles, leaving an area of damaged shingles, along with a fist-sized hole in one shingle, which exposed the underlying plywood.
So, early tomorrow morning, I hope to go to Home Depot and buy the supplies that I’ll need to patch and waterproof that entire area of my roof, as soon as possible, before the next series of thunderstorms arrives, later this week.
Thank you, Mike!
If it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have noticed that anything was wrong with my roof, until some day in the future, when my bedroom ceiling would have (probably very expensively) started to collapse, during a rain storm!
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