This weekend was a blur. Bryce came in to pick up his newly repaired car and then left 24 hours later. I had plans on Saturday night with some of my soul sisters. Plans!!! A year ago at this time, my biggest plans were cocktails on Zoom with them. This time I got to – wait for it – hug them. Hugging is now an appropriate interaction among vaccinated friends. We ate delicious food and connected. It was nice just to be in their presence. Last but not least, Bailey and Brian arrived home from their Florida vacation. The testosterone is back in full force.
My calendar is full this week with lots of appointments, but there is one item on the agenda I am looking forward to having completed. The removal of our heinous Holly tree. Have you ever had a resentment against an inanimate object? I am not too proud to admit that this tree makes me want to scream lots and lots of cuss words. First, there are no berries, so it isn’t even useful at Christmas to use as part of the decorations. Nope. It just stands there dumping its stiff leaves with its spiny border. It’s been on my radar for a while as it taunts me, so I took the action and on Wednesday, I will give that tree a final middle-finger salute as it comes tumbling down.
Just for your information, a Holly tree without berries is most likely a male tree. They are incapable of producing berries without a female counterpart. Who knew or cared that Holly’s were so complex? I certainly didn’t. I won’t miss my foot being stabbed by those sharp leaves every time I wear sandals. I won’t miss how it litters our landscaping with its unattractive leaves marring the beautiful spring blooms. Nope. This is a “Bye Felicia” moment.
I realize that it is a tree and the energy that I am giving it is a waste. Isn’t it better that I direct my anger to the source than taking it out on innocent bystanders? Of course, it is. That tree has it coming and Wednesday can’t come soon enough.