Saturday, March 24, 2012. A beautiful day in Kansas City. 75 degrees, sunny, very little wind. Spring just couldn’t look any better.
Scott and I decided that it would be a good day to plant a tree in our backyard. We already had DigSafe come out and mark our yard a few days before.
We packed up the girls in Scott’s truck and headed to Suburban Lawn & Garden. We already knew what type of tree we wanted, it was just a matter of picking one out. We found one then debated whether or not we should have Suburban plant it or do it ourselves. Scott decided we could plant it ourselves to save some money. We gave the hispanic employee a large tip and told him, “para cervezas, mi amigo.” We drove off with our new tree, laughing, excited to get some shade and privacy in our backyard.
Sometimes I think when I blog about something, life finds a way to twist whatever I wrote about.
My last blog post was about Scott and his love for hunting. And how I am, what Scott calls, a “tree-hugger.”
This post is about how the trees are beating Scott up.
As soon as we got home with our new tree, Scott and I rolled this way-bigger-than-it-looked-at-the-store tree from the bed of his truck. We made a ramp out of extra wood pieces found in the garage. Just as the tree starts to roll down the ramp everything happened quickly. Scott firmly yells at me, “Drop it! Get back!” I couldn’t hold the weight of the tree and instinctively stepped back. My flip flop was stuck under the ramp and the tree landed on my toe before I pulled my foot out from under it. The pain didn’t even register before I heard Scott’s man-roars. The whole tree landed on his leg. He limped away, trying to hold back tears, his face was pale, he whispered, “it’s broke.” I helped him inside. I told him I think my toe might be broke too – which got a “don’t talk” glare. I laughed. I guess I couldn’t really complain too much since his whole leg was getting larger and changing color before our eyes.
While he rested his leg with ice, I made phone calls to see where I could take Scott for an x-ray. Scott stopped me and said he would tough through it. He didn’t think it was broke. He could put weight on it. After resting for an hour, he went back outside and roped up the tree so his 4-wheeler could pull it back. He was still in pain and limping. The bottom half of his leg was swollen.
I retrieved my flip flop from under the wooden board.
I helped Scott dig a hole for the tree. We hit a line about 8 inches down. A white tube with electric cord running next to it. It was not marked by DigSafe. We figured out it had to be the sprinkler system. We filled the hole and started again. We hit another line, same type, not far from the first.
We had a huge gaping hole in our yard, exposed sprinkler lines, a possible broken leg and a possible broken toe. The day was starting to get ridiculous.
Scott gave up and went inside to research sprinkler system lines. I sat outside while the girls played in the backyard, thinking about how much I needed Tylenol.
Watch me! I peeing! I peeing in the grass! Haaaa!
Luckily, family and friends came to the rescue. Thank you! Scott’s parents ended up coming over to help. Our friends, Hunter and Kathy, came over to help as well. I think by our phone calls, it sounded like mass hysteria in our house.
The tree ended up getting planted well after the sun had set.
We still have a totally obvious filled-in hole in our yard.
Scott’s swelling has gone down to his ankle. He has one normal leg and one cankle. He’s in pain but better than yesterday. He has bruising all up his leg – the same leg he had ACL surgery on. If it gets worse, he will call the doctor. My fat toe still hurts – but I’m not complaining out loud.
The tree finally got its home. This tree needs to give us a hug, but I guess privacy and shade will have to do.