Hazlett: Though hubby's a lumberjack, he's still OK

A beautiful tree in front of our house died this year, victim of emerald ash borers.

We kept hoping the ash would make a comeback and fight off the insects, but sadly, there was no recovery. At one time the tree was tall and pretty and gave terrific shade to the front of the house. But now its bare, scary, straggly branches made the tree look like it belonged in front of the Addams family home, not ours.

We knew the tree had to come down. A lumberjack at heart, my husband has quite a bit of experience with this chore and has all the safety gear to do the job: Protective eye wear, helmet, earplugs, etc. He even has orange safety chaps, which I love to make fun of. I just cant help singing the Monty Python lumberjack song when he wears those chaps.

A retired engineer, my husband enjoyed the challenge of determining how to drop the tree so it wouldnt hit anything. Like our living room window. Apparently this calculation involves long periods of just standing and looking at the tree.

Hours even.

Finally I had to ask, Are you standing there waxing poetic about the leaves or plotting gravitys force?

(Lumberjacks get no respect.)

Trees fall where they want, he said. Im just trying to convince it to fall where I want.

As he began to trim the lower branches, an 11-year-old neighborhood boy stopped by. The boy parked his bike, took out his cellphone and began recording.

Morning there, Chris, said my husband. Are you interested in tree removal safety?

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Hazlett: Though hubby's a lumberjack, he's still OK