Things are better tonight. I suspect several of you prayed for me, and it worked, thank you very much.

I happened to speak to my former boss, down the hill at Headquarters, this morning, and I told him my tale of woe. He said, “Why don’t you talk to _________________?” He was speaking of a fellow who does a lot of landscaping and handyman work around the school.

So I ran the guy down, and he said, yeah, he imagined he could do it in about six hours for thirty bucks an hour.

Yes. I can live with that.

He’ll be out to look at the tree on Monday, and he’ll probably take it down on Tuesday.

Be still, my heart. Be low, my blood pressure.

(You’re getting a little tired of reading me predicting the end of my personal world, only to say, “Never mind,” a day or two later, aren’t you?

Never mind.)

When I came home tonight I went out to the curb to take in my garbage containers. I saw several young guys unloading a trailer at the recently sold house across the street.

One of them greeted me. I told him my name, asked him if he was moving in.

He said (I’m pretty sure), “I’m ___________, and (pointing at the other guy) that’s ____________, my fiancé. There’s another couple here too, helping us move in.”

I didn’t say anything, partly because that’s not my way, but mostly because I was trying to work out, as I walked away, whether I’d actually heard what I thought I’d heard.

Looking through the window, I saw four guys over there. No women. (I did see a woman later, but I think she came in a different car afterwards.)

I may have misjudged them, but it looks like those people are moving in.

And you know what happens when those people discover a neighborhood.

Houses get makeovers. Chic boutiques and coffee shops spring up. Property values soar. I probably won’t be able to pay my taxes anymore, and I’ll have to sell out at an obscene profit.

What a nuisance.