Shifting Branches

I had to move some branches. Ye old swing tree at the bottom of my mother and father's garden had given two of it's branches packed lunches before saying good bye and hurling them to the ground.

My brother, lovely and strong as he is, tried to shift them but with out chopping them up. I had to say when I heard it, he mustn't have tried very hard but the next day when I gave it a go, I say shit son, this needs some chopping. So chop I did, or rather saw. With all the muscular strength of a Jane Austen Heroin I spent the majority of the morning cursing foliage before hauling it up the yard. At the same time, praising the genius of the humans who though, "Why don't I make something large and four legged like a horse, cow, caribou, or elephant pull it instead of me. And then after give the helpful friend lots of yummy sandwiches?"

Thus is the tale of me moving branches about fifty feet.

I'm writing again. YAY.