I'd went up to the farm to do chores and thought I'd run a few tanks of gas through the chainsaw as long as I was up there, cut a little firewood you know. Now I'd just came from my folk's house (Mom is 77 Dad is 82) where they needed me to hook a phone up for 'em, so they knew I was in the woods.
I sawed down a pretty big red oak that I'd been eyeballing, bout a 30-32 inch diameter tree and started trimming it up to cut the firewood out. What I did'nt see was the 4" live hickory tree that the top had fell on, doubling it over into a "U" shape and throwing a few thousand pounds of torque on the largish limb I had just sank my chainsaw into.
With the pressure of the hickory on the limb, it pinched my chainsaw in the kerf I was cutting... and how. It was really big time hung. I can't remember the last time this happened. So anyhow, knowing my Dad was just languishing around the house when I'd left there I thought I'd just call him to bring me his chainsaw so I could cut mine outta the limb. I was only 'bout a mile and a half from their house.
Me... *phone ringing*
Mom... Hello
Me... Hey Mom is Dad there?
Mom... No, he's gone. What do you want?
Me... Nothing, never mind.
Mom... Are you hurt?? (I get this a lot)
Me... No, I'm fine. Bye Mom.
Mom... Well what do you want? (mostly this is just because she wants to have a conversation)
Me... I've got my saw stuck and if Dad was there I was gonna see if he'd run his saw over here.
Mom... What do you mean it's stuck? How do you get a saw stuck?
Me... never mind mom.
Mom... I can bring you the saw. (Now Mom has quit driving, and for good reason. She falls quite and bit and when she's not falling she's refusing to use her cane because it makes her "look old". The rest of the time she just stands and teeters, almost ready to fall.)
Me... yeah Mom. Get the saw, gas it up for me. Get it warmed up if you would, then just run it over here.
Mom... *giggling* Smart ass.
Mom... Your Dad has his cell phone with him for a change. Call him. He's probably just outside or something.
Me... *phone ringing*
Dad... Hello?
Me... Hey Dad, where are you?
Dad... I'm way down here by your house. I saw smoke and wanted to see where the fire was. Big big fire on the conservation property.
Me... *sigh* Okay, well enjoy the fire.
Dad... What do you want? Are you hurt? (again I get this)
Me... No, my saw is stuck, I thought if you were close by you could bring me your saw.
Dad... (this is like asking a 10 year old boy to borrow his pocketknife. He is thrilled that I want to use his chainsaw) I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!!! (and he hangs up on me just like * that.)
About 30 minutes later (I coulda went and got his saw 10 times by now... myself)Dad shows up in his truck, in the woods, with his chainsaw. His saw is 3 years old but has never been used. He got a notion he needed a new chainsaw, went and got one, and then it was too hard for him to pull the rope... so there it is.
Me... Does it have gas in it?
Dad... Yeah, it's full. It's been in there for 3 years, *my eyes get big* but I put that stuff in there that Paul Harvey says keeps your gas fresh.
Me... Dad, did you know Paul Harvey is dead?
Dad... Yes Jace. I know Paul Harvey is dead.
And I start yanking on the rope... and yanking and yanking and yanking. FINALLY it starts but will only run at half throttle. I shut off and take the gas cap off.
Dad... It still smells okay (the gas) doesn't it?
Me... It smells like varnish Dad. Paul Harvey has let you down.
Dad... I don't think it's the gas Jace, I think the carb needs adjusted.
Me... Dad... it's the damned gas. It's rotten. Trust me. *as I pour it out on the ground.
Dad... I can't believe you just wasted that gas.
Me... *just staring at my Dad*
I fill the saw up with my gas, start it up and in about 1 minute it's running like it should. I start cutting away some limbs, mostly scared to death that I'm gonna cut the wrong thing and get my arm or leg busted or my punkin smashed with a spring loaded limb. I'm going back and forth from one side of the humongous tree to the other, cutting a little each time.
At this point Dad has retrieved his 5 gallon bucket from the back of his truck and perched himself on his throne and is watching me. I can see his lips moving and him pointing and motioning, giving me advice... but I'm just going about my business. Finally he starts waving his arms like he's signaling a plane to land on the deck of an aircraft carrier... and I shut the saw off.
Dad... You're gonna have to cut a block out to get your saw out Jace.
Me... Can you even see what I've got going on?
Dad... Well your saw is pinched...
I pull back a limb that I've already cut off, exposing the doubled over Hickory tree.
Dad... Shitfire Jace!!!! That's dangerous. You better be careful in.... (and I restarted the saw)
Finally I got my saw out without killing myself or busting arms and stuff. I took Dad's saw back to Dad's truck.
Dad... Boy I'm sure glad you got my saw running. I guess that Paul Harvey stuff ain't as good as he says it is.
Me... "said" it is...
Dad... Huh?
Me... Said. He's dead.
Dad... That's what I hear.
Dad picks up his throne, tosses it in the back of his truck and gets in.
Dad... Well, you need anything else?
Me... Nope. That's bout it.
So, what started out to be a simple little thing, turned all inside out. I spent most of the afternoon doing something that I was gonna just spend a couple of hours at, and then go home.
That's usually the way it goes for me though. lol
Oh, OH and I've got poison ivy all over both arms. Completely. It's making me insane(r). It just adds to the memory.
.
13 comments:
What an amazing story. And if I had been there I would have willingly lent you my pocket knife. It may have taken you a while to free your saw using such a tiny blade but I keep it real shitfire sharp.
Jace this is awesome. I wish I had parents like yours.
Instead, I have parents like mine.
That was a wonderful tale Jace!
By the way, are you alright?
I asked Dad to come down and help me work on my deck and install a slider. Holy crap! Showed up with his pencil and hammer and tape measure and EVERYTHING had to be measured twice, cut two or three times, and, well, you get the picture. Worked his butt off all day long and we accomplished exactly half of what I'd have gotten done alone. BUT! It's an awesome deck, the door works flawlessly, and we had some serious quality time. :)
LOVED your story! Thanks!
Around my house with my parents in their late 70's it's nothing quite so large.
We have discussions, advice, cell phone usage and unheard comments about little things like laundry, groceries and meal times.
Your family projects are so much better.
I LOVE that your mom completely called it when she called you smart ass and giggled....that woman deserves a medal with you and your dad going at it..she probably never has a dull moment. And she doesn't want to use a cane "because it makes her look old"...bwhahahaaaaa I seriously have non-creepy crush on your parents...
you gotta love a man with a new chainsaw and old gas!
Hoo Boy, I am thoroughly impressed that it took you only an afternoon to do something that would have taken me about a month to do...
AT LEAST.
As you say, "I can hardly fart and chew gum at the same time". hee hee
And I get the "are you alright" thing from my parents too.
You know, you never stop being a parent.
ROFLOL. Oops, sorry for laughing. ROFLOL
That was a heartwarming (and completely hilarious) story.
You get "are you hurt". I get "have you eaten".
so which is worse, poisen ivy or chiggers???
You're lucky your parents are still there to drive you crazy. Enjoy them! They're great material for your posts.
Dropped by thanks to Oh My Goddess.
Oh My Goddess sent me here.
Enjoyed your story. It gave me country feeling :)
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