They’re literally on the verge of vindication.
Or maybe this swing era song is better. We need change only one word.
Grind me, baby, eight to the bar.
There must have been a leak, and someone was told about my stump stenciling plan.
Ah, but you see, I merely planted the rumor in order to impel them to ridiculously belated action. Devilishly clever of me.
Back in March, the whole story was unspooled.
Contrast this level of prompt, efficient service with the half-block of Spring between my house and 11th Street, where there exist eight stumps of indeterminate vintage (dead trees taken down within the last six or seven years), and perhaps two living replacements.
I believe they got seven of eight stumps on Monday morning. There was a car parked in front of one. The whole process took about an hour. I’m not sure who to thank, but thanks.
Now, about those replacement trees …
(BOW meets on Wed., July 5 owing to the fireworks holiday)