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Below And Above

My husband fell on his head today. Happily I didn’t see it (as I would have freaked out). I was baking. The little man had wanted to eat a banana from the newly acquired bunch, but had managed to pull such that every banana opened. Thankfully they were ripe enough to use in banana bread. But I digress. A few weeks back we received a letter from the city, informing us of a dead tree on our property that needed removing. I’ve heard horror stories about tree trimmers and how expensive they can be, and so mulled it over for a while. Then sorta forgot about it. But we were given a deadline of October 5th. Homeownership can be a bitch sometimes. But my dear, sweet father-in-law came to the rescue…just as soon as heard we needed rescuing. He arrived this afternoon with all sorts of gear. Shortly afterwards father and son set about taking down that bad boy. The little man and I watched for a while, but retreated to a safer distance…inside the house. It wasn’t until they’d successfully brought down the diseased dutch elm and come indoors that they broke the news…about my husband falling on his head. Apparently he was about halfway up the ladder, which they had leaning over the property line towards the neighbor’s garage. Then somehow he was off the ladder, and tumbling down the three or four feet to land on his head. Luckily he fell on to a soft patch in the neighbor’s yard, but still. He’s achey and woozy, with somewhat dilated pupils…and currently at the urgent care clinic, with my father-in-law. What’s the moral of the story? It could be “always pay someone else to fall on their head”. Or something.