I have a number of trees in my garden, one being a fir I planted ten years ago. I love my trees. I keep them pruned tidy, trim and attractive. My fir was 16 feet tall.
Father-in-law turned up this morning and offered to cut the grass. Bear gratefully said, sure dad, and let him get on with it, and nipped round to a neighbours for 15 mins.
I've just looked out of the windows and found my fir gone. Kaput. It's no more. A tatty, ugly stump. Destroyed. Why? He refuses to say. His dislike of tree's is no secret - he sees them as just bigger than your average weed.
All The Bear will say is "You know what he's like, he does what he wants. He won't say why".
It's not just the principal that you don't just walk into someone's garden and chop trees down without asking. It goes much deeper than that for me.
I know exactly what he's going to say eventually. We've had this 'discussion' before. He'll shrug, say something along the lines of "Well you're not in a position do anything about the bloody thing, are you?. I've cut the grass." and walk off.
That, more than anything, is what makes me so angry. Being discounted and written off in my own household. Unfortunately, that kind of attitude is not uncommon. I've had people borrow tools and refuse to return them, dismissing me with "It's not like you need them, is it?" They learn, eventually.
I'm quite used to people talking about me as though I'm not there, or if I'm in my wheels, talking over the top of my head. It's too common that someone will tell my Bear they've done something "for me" after they've done it, and get surprised and upset when they get a short sharp interruption from me.
The "Does He Take Sugar?" syndrome. No I bloody well don't. I'm Stroked, not stupid.
It's disability discrimination, pure and simple. The only thing that's stopping me going into total rant mode, is that often it's well meaning, unintentional, and often in the name of caring.
Latest news is that he's told Bear "thought he'd give it a trim, it's not like 'he' can do it" A trim? 15 foot to 4? I'm afraid I can't bring myself to talk to the man. My diplomatic circuits have gone off line, big time.
I'll post a photo of the remains of the poor tree when I've cooled down a bit.
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Bear has decided she's going to fetch me a beer. So she tells me. Not the best plan in the world. But it'll do for now.
I feel a bit better getting that aired. Cheers for reading.
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Thar you go. I mean, well heck. That was a 16ft tree. To quote Terry Pratchett. Buggerit, Buggerit, Buggerum.
4 comments:
mmm, that's not on. rant away that's what friends are for...
Perhaps be pedantic as you didn't ask him to chop it down and he doesn't seem to take any notice of you, just a suggestion but maybe treat him like a tradesman and send him the bill for the work for chopping the tree down and anything else he does, might get the message then that you're the man of your house.
Josie x
That's a good one Jose :)
I dunno ducks. It's tough when it's a relative. You've made Bear chuckle! And she's as upset as I am.
He headed for the willow in the front garden - But Bear put her foot firmly down.
I went down the garden to talk to him, but he just brushed passed me and said "Goowin". She's worried about him.
mm, know what you mean when it's a relative,maybe it makes him feel useful, I don't know...tough one
Josie x
I'm stunned! Lost for words.
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