The Plight of the Subdivision

Without meaning to, we've ended up in a subdivision. We have rather negative connotations of subdivisions: cookie cutter houses, poorly landscaped, on cul-de-sacs, etc. So it was rather surprising to find that our 1924 house on a charming, tree-lined street in a neighborhood featuring houses in a wide variety of styles was actually a subdivision. Who cares, right?

Well, it turns out we care. A lot. Because here subdivision means something very different than in Connecticut.

Last night a big storm came through. Tornado sirens, watches, warnings, the whole bit. And this morning we found:

(Segue? Hello? Hang with us here.)

Yes, that's our car. In our driveway. And the neighbor's tree with a missing branch. And said branch nicely placed in front of our driveway.

As soon as we got done thanking our lucky stars it wasn't worse, came the uh-oh moment.
1) It's a street tree. Street trees here are not the property or responsibility of the homeowner.
2) The town maintains all street trees. And their care and removal and downed limbs.
3) EXCEPT IF YOU'RE IN A SUBDIVISION. Then street trees are the subdivision's problem.
4) So we call one of the trustees of the subdivision. Busy. Busy. And still busy.
5) We try another trustee. And get a person! Who says, huh. Um, hoping for a little more than huh, here. So now we're waiting for someone the subdivision hires to come look at it and see if they take care of it.
If they take care of it the same way they take care of plowing the streets, we're going to be in for a long wait. Because as far as we can tell, the basic plowing mentality on the part of the subdivision trustees is to wait until it melts. Even when there's seven inches.

Wish us luck!