WILLOW TREE
Well, the neighbors' enormous one hundred foot willow tree finally came down. In our yard. Naturally. The whole darn thing. Broke right off at ground level. I tried to get a tree service to take it, or parts of it, down years ago, but they wouldn't, even though it was hanging over our shed. Willows are nasty to cut and very dangerous for tree cutters. Previous neighbors planted it years ago, but the trunk had grown in our direction, making it a "line tree." I was willing to pay half to get it down since we were the ones in danger, even though I felt it was their tree and not a line tree at all, but the new neighbors always wanted to keep the tree. And I admit that taking the branches down which overhung our yard would have taken ALL the branches off. So it stood. Leaning.

Well, folks, in the Divine miracle department the whole tree--all of it--fell neatly along between our fence and right along the side of the shed. It fills the entire space of about 25 feet in width between the fence and the shed and from the back of the yard to the front of the 70-foot long shed. Neatly. I still can't believe it. Twigs grazed the side of the shed and chipped the edge of one shingle that protruded. Didn't scratch the shed or break any windows. And left a VERY narrow path right along the side of the shed that I can walk along ducking under leafy twigs and stepping on and over broken bits of tree.

If that thing had come down on the shed, it would have crushed it completely.

It missed both of my little Bradford pears except to trim off the side branch of the one pear that had two tops and I've been trying to figure out how I was going to prune off that second top, since I don't do ladders very well. Sheered it right off at the pear's trunk. I think the lilacs along the side of the shed may be toast, but they can be replaced. And if I ever get someone to clean up the mess, I may be surprised at what survived. Lilacs are tough.

At the moment, I'm considering just fighting the poison ivy (the willow was full of it) and ignoring it. Poison ivy spray is cheaper than hiring someone to clean it up.

The tree was loaded with poison ivy that I've been fighting for years with spray since it overhung our yard and dropped berries continually which made a carpet of poison ivy in our yard. A couple of years ago I crossed our fence and cut the vine with clippers since the neighbors wouldn't do anything. One of the vines was four inches in diameter, and another was six! I had to saw them, and I was afraid they'd heal so I sawed chunks out of the vines to prevent that. But they sprout continuously, so if I don't fight it, the whole side yard will be poison ivy.

It always made me nervous even to walk past that tree in a wind. We've had a lot of its limbs come down, but the big ones always landed neatly in a line along the fence even though they weren't pointing that way while they were up in the tree, and I always considered that to be a miracle, but I never ever expected the tree to fall like it did, diagonally at that precise angle. What the tree service refused to do--especially when I whined about my Bradford pears, which they said they wouldn't be able to protect--God did very neatly! Thank you, Lord!

And hey, I don't have to mow that section of yard anymore!

POINTING A FINGER AT GOD
When I was a kid and someone would say something mean like, "You're so stupid" or "You look like a witch," the other person would usually respond with "So are you" or "Takes one to know one" or something similar. But once when we moved and I started a new school, the kids there responded differently. They would say, "I know you are, but what am I?" Frequently, the response made no sense at all, and never having heard it before, I was confused.

Finally, one of my new friends said it had to do with finger-pointing, even if no one actually was pointing a finger at anyone else, but it was just assumed. Duh. Okay. I still didn't get it until she added that when you point a finger at someone, you have your fist clenched and three fingers pointing back at yourself.

Okay, dodo here finally got it. Sort of.

The other day here was just such a perfect day. The weather was fantastic, and if summer could be this way always, I thought, it would give heaven a run for its money. The clouds were magnificent and drew my attention upwards. For some reason, I thought of the baseball players who raise their hands and point heavenward to give God the glory after they make a great play, and I did the same. Instead of just thanking God for the lovely, lovely day, I pointed skyward and said, "You are wonderful, Lord!"

And then I looked at my hand and saw the three fingers pointing back at myself. The Bible says we are fearfully and wonderfully made. I am wonderful. My body is a wonder. My mind is a wonder. That I love God is a wonder. That He loves me is a greater one.

You are wonderful, too! We are all wonderful creatures. We are all wonderful individuals. Don't ever sell yourself short. "God doesn't make junk."

You are wonderful. I know you are.