When we lived inside Wichita city limits, where our power was provided by the massive energy company Westar, we called about trees encroaching on our power line – only to have the power company tell us that they would only take responsibility for the alley line. Once the power line split off from the alley to service our neighbor and us? We were on our own.
And maybe that’s the norm. I certainly don’t know. That was the first home either Daniel or I had ever owned. But we hired an arborist to come out and trim our line – and to do a little extra work around the yard too.
Then we moved to Prairie Elms, where we have all sorts of prairie weed trees (aka Eastern Red Cedar) and tall but scrappy Siberian Elms along our fence line, right underneath our power line. It just so happens that I desire to keep exactly zero of those trees – and even though we are now the proud owners of a rather nice chainsaw (and beaucoup bucks worth of accompanying safety equipment), I don’t feel comfortable with Daniel or I removing almost any of them.
Because, tall trees. Relatively close to the house. Very close to the power line.
I knew we’d need to hire someone to get them removed in the next couple of years before they became a hazard. But I was not looking forward to the prospect of researching arborists again, contracting one, determining the minimum they could do to make it safe for us to do the rest, and paying for the whole bit.
But then I was taking my rest time and I heard a knock at the door. A few minutes later Daniel entered our room to see if I was still awake. The folks with the bucket truck who’ve been in the neighborhood all week are clearing power lines for our electrical co-op. Was I okay if they just took down all the trees under the power line?
Was I okay with it?
It’s a dream come true.
2018 is shaping up to be my kind of year.