We didn't even choose the lowest bidder.
But never mind. The "professional" tree service Mr. J chose to trim our ancient pear tree consisted of a cast of goofs.
They arrived promptly at 7:30 Monday morning, powering up their chainsaws in a way that pays back all of our noisy neighbors for their damn leaf blowers and lawn services.
Mr. J went out to greet them. I heard him tell them to be careful with the garden.
About two minutes later, I heard one of the crew say to the other, "Didn't the guy tell you to be careful with the garden? Look where that branch landed!
It landed in my micro meadow, crushing just about everything.
There was only one flower blooming in the whole patch. They knocked it over.
Not seeing any other flowers, they just tramped through the patch, dragged branches over it ... even after I came out and told them not to. I said that the garden didn't look like much, but that it was just planted this year.
All the plants were doing well, too. The prickly pear had grown ... and there was that one lone purple spiky flower. Now in a vase in the kitchen.
Our neighbor across the way came out in a purple rage because branches (and pears) were falling in his yard.
The proprietor of the service told Mr. J that his crew would arrive with "a million dollars worth of equipment." I don't know where they stored it. They used our step ladder and stood (perilously) on the roof of the garage.
They did not wear hard hats. No brains to protect anyway.
One would think that wild flowers can bounce back from a bashing. Time will tell. Tree-trimming is an affront to the Green Man. Guess I'll pay the price.
Oh ... I was smart enough to cover the Shrine of the Mists with a good, strong tarp. If they had trampled that, I would have had to join a well regulated militia pretty quick.