The tree that used to be in our front yard.

*I absolutely meant to post this in July since the story you're about to read took place on July 31, 2021. However, I also meant to post it in July last year. So let's just clap because I got it written down at all.*

I was weed-eating (weed-whacking?) around a tree stump in our front yard the other day and I thought about our history with this tree. 

When we moved into the house in May 2021, it was there. At the end of July 2021, it got struck by lightening in such a fashion that it split the bark, shot it everywhere, and knocked out the neighbors' power. Then it was positioned so precariously that we had to have it cut down a week or two later ($800!) so it didn't fall on the house. 

Scott would've cut down the tree himself but he was in Kansas for work for six weeks. 

My point: 

During this lightening storm, I took a pregnancy test and that's how I found out I was pregnant with Sutton. Thunder and lightening and an anxious dog bouncing all around. I called Scott almost immediately (I don't even recollect what Wells was up to) because not only was he in Kansas for six weeks, he was leaving Kansas the next day en route to Pennsylvania for his dad's funeral. 

Good timing, right? 

In addition, in the middle of this phone call with Scott (which I could barely get through because our internet was nonexistent and Facetime or regular calls don't work out in the country without wi-fi), the neighbor came over to tell me the tree got struck by lightening. You know how a doorbell can rile up some already-anxious dogs. 

Again, good timing. 

It was such a unique strike, blowing the bark off like that, that the people who came to cut it down took pictures of it to show their coworkers. 

Anyway. I feel like I should carve her name into this stump or something. 

Did I have to double-check the info on Google Photos to verify the date of this event? I did.