Tree surgeon’s out of the running…

Decided today that a career as a tree surgeon is out of the running. In fact, I’m spending the second half the day working on my PMI PMP accreditation (I’m already PRINCE2 accredited, but I’m more than happy to learn more – project management’s a complex beast).

The first half of the day was spent with my Dad and my brother in law Andy (thanks guys) removing the dreaded leylandii trees my Dad’s completely cut down at his house, releasing about 2 meters of garden, and some more which we trimmed a few meters off at our bungalow on Wednesday. Used a rented van from Bridges, which was only a little Transit and a piece of cake to drive compared with The Beast (aka Dave the Hymer).

I needed to go through a new process with Broxtowe Borough council to get into the recycling centre with a hired van. You have to call them with a hire reference, type of van, type of waste and the date you’ll visit (which has to be at least 24 hours away). You then need to wait for them to call you back with a reference number and take this, and the hire agreement paperwork, with you to the recycling centre a couple of days later and hey presto, they let us in. Easy enough, as long as you know you have to do it in advance.

Murphy’s Law: it’s been sunny all week, today it lashes it down, all day. We all got a good old soaking. One of the many reasons being a tree surgeon is not for me. Once the trees were sorted, we moved our rowing machine to Dad’s garage (he’s the only person who ever uses it, despite him being the only one who has lung disease – go figure). We also moved a double bed over to Andrew’s place while we had the van. The house is slowly, slowly emptying.