After months of agonizing, last fall I decided to have an oak tree cut down. It had insect damage, and was leaning in the direction of the tiny house. During every large storm, I lived in fear of getting a call or reading an email that the tree had toppled.
If you’ve never cut down a tree, it makes a lot. of. wood. A lot.
I chopped the smaller branches into firewood. (You’ll find plenty of past posts on that topic.)
And the trunk? I thought it would be nice to make something out of it. Countertops? A screen room? Very humblebrag. “Oh, you like the counters? Yes, we had them made out of an oak tree from the property.”
So we had a local sawmill come and haul away the wood.
The only problem? The sawmill folks have disappeared. Calls and texts go unanswered. I’ve reached out to them several times, over months.
I suppose I should stop by their business to inquire.
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No doubt they cut the lumber into boards and sold it!
Oh, there is a happy ending to the story–I need to post it!