Matty may have married a hippie

Rude awakening this morning. In fact, anytime I'm awoken by anything in the morning is rude. Loud noises... that don't seem to stop... I stumbled to our living room window to see this:

Wipe eyes again to make sure... ughhh.
Do. Not. Want.
Aaaand the audio:

Matty was getting ready for work, i.e. surfing the 'net. I wondered aloud if those guys out there would let me take a piece of the tree trunk. I get so sentimental over trees, especially when they're being sacrificed for condo construction. (This one in particular is a fruit tree... don't remember what type but Joan, our downstairs neighbour and most senior resident, has been living in our building for the past fifty years and remembers that tree, and now it's gone. This upsets me... and probably Joan to some extent.)

Matty and I agreed if I were to ask them, they would likely say yes, so I asked my husband to please go ask them to spare me a couple slices of tree trunk. Now that we're married, he's more likely to do whatever I want him to do... within reason... I suggested if he were to tell the men his wife asked, it would go over better. Somehow, I like how the phrase, "my wife wants blah blah blah..." makes a bizarre request seem much more reasonable. Try it sometime...

SUCCESS!

Yeah, the trunk chunks were a touch larger than anticipated. Guess who had to carry them up three flights of stairs? I guess it's fair since he helped me by doing the talking and he had to rush to work. HEAVY. Each one had to be at least seventy pounds (Sierra, the dog behind the trunk section, is about fifty-five pounds), and the workmen were hefting them into the wood chipper like it was nothing. The tree was very much alive, too, and full of sap as the wood's damp to the touch. RIP tree...