That’s what the roof looked like on Tuesday morning before the arborist tree guy came.
It came from a split-trunk white oak in the neighbor’s yard, a tree that had been the subject of several conversations with the neighbor since October. Apparently, one trunk decided it was done at 7pm Monday night. Over, finished, shuffling off this mortal coil, kaputt, fin.
CC called insurance, the neighbor, and the tree service. All the neighborhood gathered across the street to observe. I was informed by a little girl in a red wagon that a tree had fallen on our house.
I went for a run and then had an ice cream sandwich.
This morning at 3:20am the other trunk also gave up, taking the ash in front of it along for the ride. The ash hit our roof and the oak landed on our deck, the new batting cage, and the ladder CC bought yesterday to get up to the roof to assess the damage from the first trunk.
CC and I checked everything out and then spent a little quality time together. Then he made cornbread and bacon.
I love my husband.
The tree guy arborist said white oaks all over the area are falling. Anything that got damaged in October is now soaking up all the rain and coming down, crack crack smash.
Again, we’re lucky. It didn’t hit #4, who was on her way out to walk Team Puggle when it fell– much like how the tree that fell in October just barely missed #1 by feet and seconds. Even though the roof has extensive damage, the attic goes the whole length of the house. So where the tree broke through is in the attic, and daylight isn’t hitting our bedrooms.
Last night I was the only one who heard the tree fall. This is hilarious to me. That shizz is loud. Seven people in the house; even the damn dogs didn’t wake up and it happened literally right over their heads.
This morning, the guy who took care of the tree yesterday was passing by to check out his handiwork and came across a whole new scene with bonus trees, so he stopped. While everyone was outside checking out the damage, Casey took the opportunity to relieve us of the remaining bacon.
JM’s note: This was totally unsolicited but CC asked if he could do a guest post, and then he actually wrote it and sent it to me, and I may have cried a little bit when I read it and had to pretend I had just jabbed a mascara wand in my eye. It wasn’t intended as a Valentine’s Day post (I mostly hate that holiday) but it seemed appropriate that I post it today, to call out to that grimy, blackened, decaying romantic that lives in all of us. I don’t deserve his praise but what the hell, I’m leaving it in there.
Love Letters and Cheap Applause Lines by CC
Those of you that are lucky enough to know my wife JM in the actual world know- and those that are readers of this blog get a glimpse of what a lovely and exceptional woman she is. One of her favorite words is “badass” and believe me, she is. I thank god for every day she shares my life.
Don’t worry, this is not an obituary, she is fine. We are just both working two jobs at the moment, and she is too exhausted at the end of the day to write, so I am hijacking her site to give you all a story and an update.
We have all watched a comic, or a celebrity on television and heard them say something like “so I just got married” or “we just had our first baby” “I stopped drinking”…and the audience applauds and “WOOOO’s” obligatorily and the world dims a little for the effort. It is a cheap applause line, and I always find it a bit tacky. But I digress….
Hey, look. A puppy:
Last week was busy. Not in itself unusual around here, but at one point JM realized that there was a document that she needed THAT DAY (JM’s note: umm, it was my union card), so I found it, and after my production meetings were done I headed uptown to deliver it to her. I slipped into the theater, and sat in the back as the crew worked on loading in the show. I know many of them-it is a small community- but they were busy and I was content to sit in back, watch and wait for the end of the call to chat and catch up. JM was onstage wearing her favorite new black work boots and a white hard hat while they all moved the heavy main speaker arrays into position to rig and fly. This is the glamorous part of theater, folks.
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I was the department head on a tour of Aida for the Walt Disney Company, and AK, one of my dearest friends and at the time my assistant, was leaving the tour for greater glory. I needed to replace him quickly. In our world, for contractual reasons positions cannot go unfilled for long and everyone I knew and didn’t hate was working. I was at a loss and started asking for resumes online from people in the industry. Someone passed me JM’s name. We spoke on the phone, and she joined the tour in Kansas City. She did a terrific job learning the gig and –just as importantly- fitting in with the company.
Several months passed and we found ourselves taking the show into Los Angeles, the land of all things Disney Corporate, and for the show, A VERY BIG DEAL.
Slamming a million bucks worth of sound gear into and out of trucks week after week is hard work in the best of circumstances, but sometimes the theater gods conspire and scheme, and when they do, little good comes of it. We had a rough week.
The set didn’t fit through the loading doors.
The band didn’t fit in the pit.
Disney scheduled press events around and during the load in.
The choreographer arrived for a “brush up rehearsal” and spent the week making our lives……interesting.
We adapted, we persevered, and we made it to the opening night.
My last image of JM before that show started was of her in a black polo shirt and jeans and Doc Martens with her hair in a ponytail, holding a screw gun, ready to replace yet another piece of equipment that had chosen that moment to commit suicide, while I walked to the front of house to start the show.
What I came back to after the show was breathtaking. The jeans, polo and ponytail were gone and in their place were a midnight blue dress, heels and hair perfectly done. It was stunning. It was magic. It was like something out of a Disney movie. I was done for. The theater gods laughed.
All these years.
All these years, dozens of cities, thousands of shows, 10 or so new productions, 4 apartments, a couple lawsuits, five kids, a wedding, a house, 2 puppies, more midnight grocery runs than I can count, a few more shows. More than a little good has come of it.
The word “soul mate” is deadened by overuse. But damn is it true here. JM is my best friend and I am a better man for her love. The theater gods are still laughing, but I think it is because they are happy for us.
Now for the cheap applause lines:
#1? Started University
#2? Honor Roll
#3? Honor Roll
#4? Honor Roll
#5? Straight A’s
That’s right, folks, we got ourselves a house full of freaking geniuses. And puppies.
The cemetery where we walk our pups has a lot of really fantastic trees. Right in front is a live oak that has suffered storm damage. The groundskeepers and the tree people worked together extensively in past seasons to try to save it and it appeared their efforts were paying off.
Then we got our freak snow storm.
Poor tree.
You can tell from this picture the reason we’re losing so many trees: none of the leaves have fallen yet; most haven’t even turned. We haven’t had to rake. Eight-plus inches of wet snow on top of that is bringing those suckers down.
I don’t have a “before” picture, but take my word that before Saturday night, the tree did not normally lay upon the gravestones.
I was taking these pictures and a guy passed walking his dog. He remarked on how dangerous the tree was, that at the moment of it splitting and falling it could have hurt someone.
We’re pretty aware of how dangerous falling trees are, considering how close #1 came to being hit on our front porch, considering that our neighbor was hit by one in his driveway.
I was snapping away, trying to figure how to reply to such an obvious comment without being a total dick to someone who surely must qualify as my neighbor. I needn’t have worried. My husband always has my back in situations like these.
Man: I mean, this is just so dangerous. It could have hit someone. Really, it could have killed someone!
JM Randolph, accidentalstepmom 