I chopped down a tree

This weekend we (my in-laws and myself) threw Jess a surprise 30th birthday party. She was actually surprised, coming two weeks ahead of her actual birthday and on the same day she was expecting to celebrate her father's 52nd birthday. I was thrilled that she was actually surprised, and it turned out really well. People we didn't think were going to make it ended up being there, there was a picture board with images from her childhood, some of her relatives wore custom T-shirts with Jess's picture on them, and so forth.

As the evening wound down, Brenda got a fire started and people began to migrate away from the food tables and towards that area. As we looked around for wood to burn, Brenda pointed out a dead tree in the back yard. We tried to break it with nothing but pushing and pulling on it, but our efforts were doomed to failure. It was just a little too big for that treatment; maybe 20 feet tall and a little bigger around than a 2-liter soda bottle.

So, yeah. I said, "If you had an axe, I'm sure we could chop it down."
Brenda: "I've got an axe."
Me, shrugging: "Ok, then!"

30 seconds later, I'm hacking away at the base of this dead tree. Small dead limbs are falling off the main trunk and scaring spectators away, but I am not deterred.

It was incredibly satisfying, I must say. Thing started creaking and cracking, and I knocked that bitch down and then broke it up and burned it.

Good times.

I was a little sore the next day, but I mean, goddamn, I chopped down a tree.