That Picture.

I was reminded by Travelling Companion yesterday evening that I didn’t explain the picture I had stuck at the bottom of Thursday’s missive.  I guess when I realised Friday was November 11th,  I got side tracked.

It’s certainly within the realm of possibilities.

 

Not long after I got back from walking T.C. down to the parking garage on Thursday morning,  it didn’t take too much imagination to recognise the distinctive sound of a chainsaw.  It was certainly not off in the distance by any means, and I don’t mean any namby pamby electric saw either,  it was definitely gas powered,  even though I knew it wasn’t anything like a Stihl 90 or anything.

It’s a peculiar thing,  and maybe it has to do with spending the first few formative years on the farm, but the sound of a chainsaw doesn’t really bother me all that much.  Sounds strange,  I know. 

That’s a picture of me at about the age of 18.  Chainsaw in hand.  So you know I’m not just blowin’ smoke.   I’m on top of a “duck pen”,  which meant handling a chainsaw while wobbling about on chain link fencing.   Odd place for a tree to grow,  which was why it needed to be cut down.

Note all the safety equipment.  

Right.

 

Anyway,  back to Vienna.

I look out our kitchen window,  and this is what I see:

Just a slight difference in terms of safety equipment.  Yes?

 

Now,  as much as I don’t mind handling a chainsaw,  doing that?   Scaling a tree?  Um,  I don’t think so.   Anything that we cut down on the farm,  or later when I would go and work on the estate where my parents spent the last of their working years,  we’d mostly stay on the ground, (except for that one trip onto the duck pen) and fell the tree in whatever direction we chose.    That practise all by itself can be dangerous enough,  since you eventually get so much brush underfoot,  that you don’t know where the stumps are anymore.   The butt end of trees have a nasty habit of flipping up in the general direction of your noggin’ if felled over a hidden stump.  

Anyway,  there was a crew of four of them that were there all day.  It was a huge tree that packed it in a couple years ago, and I suppose the store on whose property it was decided to pony up the dough and have it cut down.   It’s not cheap.  This I know.  

A little falling sequence there.

 

It was certainly fun to watch,  and especially from up on the seventh floor.  Usually watching from the ground can get to be a bit of a pain (literally) after a while.

You can see the guys down below.  Barely.

 

I had to really lean out to get that one.  Not my favourite thing.  See the blue hard hat?

 

When it was coffee time,  he left the saw hanging from the tree.

 

 

So,  I wasn’t standing there (in the cold) watching the whole time,  since I did have to go out and everything.   But then I noticed someone on a ladder,  taking piece after piece from one of the workers.  Turns out it was one of our neighbours from a couple floors down.   I remember him telling me that he had three working fireplaces in his apartment,  so he had just found a source of firewood it seems.

 

Yup,  there’s Max.

He’s going to be busy for a while,  judging by the amount of wood he ended up with!

Oh,  and at one point,  he was out there using one of their chainsaws!  That kind of blew me away.  There’s no way I’d lend a total stranger a tool like that.  But hey,  not my country.   They have a lot of forests here in Austria, so maybe they just figure everyone can operate a chainsaw.  Kind of like the way all the Dutch can ride a bike.  Or swim.

 

I have no idea where he’s going to put it,  unless he just decides to leave it out there in that courtyard area.  Stacked up somehow of course.  It’s actually below grade,  and my only guess is that it used to be some sort of coal storage area?  It’s level with the basement.  The wood should be covered of course.  I’m sure we’ll find out eventually.

 

While that was happening,  I was actually occupied doing something else.

 

Am I driving you crazy with this “wait till next time”  crap?

 

It’s all about word count people!   Have to be mindful of those attention spans.  No offence.

 

Enjoy your weekend, although for some of you,  every day is Saturday.   Lucky buggers.

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

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