Deanna Hoak

I’m flushed, in a muscle shirt and cargo pants, hair pulled back and a cowboy hat to keep the sun off my face, everything sweat-plastered to me. I’ve been wielding the chainsaw all morning and manhandling broken branches and trees out to the curb.

And here are the fruits of my labor. From the front:

And from the side:

It’s about the size of my minivan.

One of the neighbors behind me noticed me working when there was only one tree trunk left. He enlisted *his* neighbor to help him get it out to the front. Upon seeing the debris pile: “Girl, did you do that all by yourself? You’re gonna hurt yourself. I told you to call me if you needed help.”

I smiled. I’m still a farm girl at heart.