It’s Just a Stump

A few years back, we had a maple tree in our backyard cut down. There was a interesting section of the trunk that I decided to keep, and it became my stump. I moved it to the back of the yard, right in front of the neighbor’s fence.

I like my stump. I have enjoyed watching it age; seeing the color of the wood change; observing moss growing on the bark; watching the bark fall off, exposing the naked wood beneath. I even planted flowers in my stump one summer.

I have a plan. I bought two very colorful pots and plan to place them by the fence, with the stump in the middle. I’m envisioning pots overflowing with flowers and ivy and a spiky plant or two, and I’ll plant some flowers in my stump again.

This morning, I heard some banging noises in my backyard, and saw two men taking down the fence. This was not surprising to me, since our neighbors had warned us for many months that they are replacing their fence.

A couple hours later I looked in the backyard again. Then I did a double take. There was an empty space where my stump used to be.

I ran from window to window, trying to see if the workmen had just moved my stump to a different place, but I couldn’t see it anywhere.

Well, I thought to myself, not being one to want to make waves. It’s just an old stump. I should probably be grateful that they removed it for me.

But it’s MY stump! And I had plans for that stump!

I went out my back door to the back of my yard, and very nonchalantly asked one of the men what happened to my stump. He kind of motioned to his unseen truck, kind of insinuated that the owners had asked him to remove MY STUMP. Not many words were said by him, and I asked him to kindly replace MY STUMP.

The stump is now back in my yard, on my side of the fence, ready for my plan. After the threat of frost is over (we might have a frost tonight!) I’ll be able to plant my flowers and make my backyard beautiful. Featuring…MY STUMP!

I’m glad I decided to speak up and ask for it back. Yeah, it’s just a stump. I like my stump.

post signature

Circles

We’re the typical suburban family, I think, living close to a large city with much to offer and yet hardly ever taking advantage of the city until we have a visitor from out of town. This past weekend, our nephew’s girlfriend was visiting him, and he wanted to show her around town. So the whole family was off to the Shedd Aquarium for a day of fun.
As I was looking at my photos from our day, I was struck by the number of circles I found.

Perfectly round spots on a little spotted stingray

I’m expecting a hobbit to come walking out the round door,
ready for a ramble around the Shire.
Moon jellies, round like their name

Tail circled around a frond of seaweed, this little seahorse is hoping a morsel of food will float by while he patiently waits.

Lily, taking a rest after playing inside an iceberg in the Polar Play Zone, can’t resist looking at the anemones in the tank behind her.

Emmy gets in on the fun by dressing up like a penguin with a round, white belly.

All of these circles remind me of my favorite poem to read aloud:

I am running in a circle
and my feet are getting sore,
and my head is
spinning,
spinning,
as it’s never spun before.
I am
dizzy
dizzy
dizzy.
Oh! I cannot bear much more.
I am trapped in a
revolving
. . .volving
. . .volving
. . .volving door!

Running in a Circle, from The New Kid on the Block by Jack Prelutsky