Suburban Lumberjack

I had had it. That dead tree in our backyard had to go.

Armed with a chainsaw, I attacked my Great White Whale. Sawdust flew. Woodchips fell under foot. Branches fell and a tree toppled.

Loading sticks and branches into my car, I wiped the sweat off my brow and smiled. I knew it. I had made it. I was now a suburban lumberjack.

Vanquished branches stuffed into the Explorer.

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