Yesterday we had some super-human help getting rid of the last of the Mohicans - or rather several remaining ancient, scraggly, deer-chewed yews. Our son’s winch (note: not wench), which is constantly mounted on the front bumper of his fire-engine-red F-250 pick-up truck “just in case” it is needed, ripped out the last 3 bushes that would have otherwise required much backbreaking, sweaty, manual digging. My carpal-tunnel-stricken wrists are forever grateful those deeply-rooted bushes were yanked out so quickly and are now gone for good!
Here are pictures of the final bush-uprooting from chain hook-up ("What are you doing to me?") to first tug ("Owwwww!") to straining-at-the-roots ("This is like being on a s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-r – agggggg!") to snapping free ("Dirt! Dirt! I'M NAKED!") to bare roots and bonfire-ready ("You mean I get to roast marshmallows?").
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