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Matthew snapped a few pictures of the pine tree when he and Jeff arrived home this evening. The progress is dramatic…albeit not complete. I guess this is a 2-3 day process. [Thanks for the photos, Matt.]

Also, a hearty THANK YOU to my buddy (and avid blog reader) Sean for his Boston food tips. At Sean’s recommendation, we tried Durgin-Park in the Faneuil Hall Market. These folks love to draw attention to their 100+ years of existence…”YOUR GRANDFATHER & PERHAPS YOUR GREAT GRANDFATHER DINED WITH US TOO” and “ESTABLISHED BEFORE YOU WERE BORN”. Its unabashedly kitschy, but their simple but hearty seafood dishes held up nicely to the hype. We were offered a spot on the outside terrace, but the hot and sticky air drove us downstairs to the cool (and lively) bar area. We topped off dinner with a house specialty, the strawberry shortcake. Yum.

Temporary red and white No Parking signs dotted our tiny street today, signaling the imminent demise of the already-demised pine tree next door. As luck would have it, I hopped on a flight this morning for Boston…so I won’t have pics of the lack-o-tree for a week! Talk about timing.

Over the past week, since we learned the tree was going to be removed, I’ve been noticing the tree more. There is one particularly loud bird that perches on the longest of the limbs. Every morning, his complex song greets the sun as it peeks over the hills. I think he will miss the tree most of all.

Nevertheless, I don’t think the world will take any notice. It seems that we’re a bit preoccupied with Paris Hilton’s jail departure outfit: “a sage jacket with white trim over a white shirt and skinny jeans”.

So, rather than dwell on the fate of the tree [its probably down by now], I will share the view of my Hilton window in Boston’s Financial District. In a large city, a corner room is a bonus, although a view would help 🙂

Well, the dead pine tree is still here (and still dead, for the record). The winds have died down, so we’re not quite sure what happened to the axe-man.

So, in lieu of tree removal stories, I present a photo from my latte-run this morning. The photo doesn’t really need explanation, although I am curious if there is something intentional about the car and its banged up state. The car has been in the same spot for a few days, so I’m suspicious that it was planted there for some artistic or commercial reason. Perhaps I’m just trying to stretch this rather mundane story into an entire post 🙂

After weeks of anticipation, this tree was NOT cut down today. It was NOT carefully disassembled limb by dead limb. It was NOT lifted up over nervous rooftops by a skillful crane.

Nope. After our neighbor notified us that this dead pine tree would come out starting at 8am this morning, we returned home to a view of a dead pine tree.

The world’s events do not seem to be aware of my blogging needs.

[Update: Our theory now is that today’s periodic high winds most likely squashed the tree extraction. Tonight, the gusts are particularly strong…as we listen to the dead limbs creak. We’re sure glad that OUR house isn’t downhill from the tree!]

I have been wanting to eat at Town Hall in SF for quite some time. Its one of those cozy SF restaurants that written up in every foodie magazine. The menu is a broad range of comfort-inspired foods…highlighted (in my humble opinion) by their fried chicken. Nevertheless, its also on the pricey side ($20-25 entrees), so its not an everyday stop.

So, when some of my dear colleagues dropped in for a meeting–welcome to Karen and Ed and Ken and Sandy–then I jumped at the excuse for a fun evening out. There wasn’t a disappointed palette at our table. In short, the fried chicken was amazing, which means that I’ll have to have a runoff with Firefly’s fried chicken, which I raved about in a previous post.

The great thing about having friends visit is that conversations go quickly beyond the normal work chatter and into the bizarre corners of our personalities. Last night was no exception. The conversation ran the gamut from the code of ethics for evil beings (yes, apparently they live by a code of conduct) to the monetary cost of sin (a 12% surcharge according to one private school).

Hmmm, perhaps that was the mojitos talking 🙂