There he is, right down the hill from the back of our house.
Can you see him? He is sitting at his computer typing threatening letters to us that address me as "Mrs. Husband's-Last-Name," which is never a good way to start things with me.
What is Neighbor Ray's problem? He is old and crabby, and more specifically, he wants a large Monterey pine on the property line that runs between us cut down. He claims he is worried it might fall on his house, which is unlikely because it leans up the hill, which means it would more likely fall on us. What he really objects to is the fact that the tree sheds needles and cones that clog his rain gutters and that he has to sweep from his porch. To which I say "Dude, you live in a WOODED NEIGHBORHOOD. If you don't want to deal with those things, move to SCOTSDALE" where I understand this is not a problem.
Ray pestered us about this tree a few years ago. He wanted to have it removed and wanted us to pay half. No, we said. We will pay half to have it trimmed. Ray did not answer.
A year goes by. Ray's wife calls to complain about the archery range we have installed in the pocket park next door to him. Children could be hurt! [More to her point] We can see it from our house!! Fuck you, we essentially said. My daughter shoots only under adult supervision, and we don't care if you can see our hay bale stack from your dining room window. The homeowners association generously backed us up on this, noting that it was an excellent use of common space. We've now added tubes into which we can insert the poles for our badminton set, which I'm sure they like even less. All that laughing and noise.
Another year goes by. Ray still wants the tree down. This time he is willing to pay for the entire thing. Makes litigious noises. The tree is coming down this afternoon.
It's probably the right thing to do. The tree is near the end of its life cycle and would need to come down within the next ten years anyway. This gets the job done at no expense to the Figs and at considerable expense Ray. But we're unhappy being pushed.
And we're sad. Although it is a scrappy, unattractive tree, it's part of our yard ecosystem and a living thing. I went out early this morning to say goodbye. And sorry. When I get home this afternoon, it will probably be gone.
The only thing that would make me happy now is if by some freak accident during the removal, the tree came down on Ray's house, narrowly missing Ray himself. Very narrowly. Just think of the sweeping that would entail.
They even brought their own room. A friend of ours is, among other things, a beekeeper, and as part of his maintenance of several hives, one of them needs to go somewhere else for a little while. Something to do with new bees, old bees, swarms, and the like. Whatever. We're happy to bee sit for as long as he needs us.
In the morning sunlight, our guests are very busy, flying in and out of an opening at the bottom of their box. We get along well: We are careful not to step on or frighten them, and (so far) they do not sting us. They're honeybees, after all, and they're busy.
We like watching them but were surprised at one of their behaviors.
Apparently as bees die off naturally in the hive, the other bees remove the bodies and deposit them in a little heap outside. "Bring out your dead!"
Hopefully a comb full of honey for Sophie. So much better than a scented candle, don't you think?
