I guess you already know where I’m going with this.
This is my daddy. In the sky. In a bucket. In a tree. Way above the ground.
I realize that trees will need trimming from time to time. Otherwise, dead limbs fall, cracked ones break completely, and the grass below gets zero sunlight.
My sister took all of these pictures. I don’t guess she was worried about falling debris.
Why must everyone insist on going sky-high?
When the trees need trimming at my parents’ house, this is what they do. They use Daddy’s bucket truck and get busy with the chainsaw. Mama stands on the ground and sucks in her breath a lot.
Yesterday evening, Katie’s Papa and Grandmother came to visit. Grandmother moved to go back outside with Katie right after arriving, so they could go and talk to Papa and play in the yard. As they were going outside, I called to Katie, “Stay with Grandmother! Mind your grandmother!”
She half-turned to me, waved me off, and said, “We’re fine….” in a sing-song voice.
I spent the next 30 minutes or so trying not to suck in my breath a lot.