Wanted One Nerve, Last Seen February 18th

So I lost my nerve yesterday, pruning the hawthorns.
When I left them on Sunday they were like this:

I was pruning the right hand tree, which was basically down to the two trunks, which had to come down by about fifteen feet. Without thinking too much about it, I cut through the left hand trunk and waited for it to fall. Nothing happened. As you can see from the photo, the upper branches had grown through the branches of the other trunk and the two were intertwined. I tied a rope round it as high up as I could and pulled. It made no difference. I was left with a tree trunk dangling in the air unattached. I couldn't leave it like that, it might blow down in a storm and hurt someone. I daredn't cut the other trunk down, as then both trunks may come crashing down on me at once.

I didn't know what to do. I felt like I had in childbirth and wished I had never started it, wished I was sitting comfortably inside with a book and a cup of tea. I rang the ex for help but he was hundreds of miles away. I considered who else  would be free at 3 o'clock on a Monday afternoon, that I could call on for help, but there really wasn't anyone.

 I dithered unhappily for a bit longer and then decided that I would just go ahead and cut the other trunk down. Gingerly I perched on the ladder, my nerve had long since departed for somewhere sunny and warm, and almost cut through the trunk. Then I scooted down the ladder, dropped the chainsaw and went to pull on the rope attached to the first trunk. The extra pressure on the almost severed trunk caused it to split and both trunks fell to earth.

 The split wasn't elegant, I should tidy it up today to stop the tree getting diseased, but the job was done and I was safe.

Here is a photo of Archie, the Killer Cat from next door, surveying the remains. He was no help at all.

I'm not sure what to do with the other hawthorn, it definitely needs lopping, both trees had grown far too tall and were keeping too much light out but when I inspected it this morning I saw three great tits singing their territorial challenges, followed by a blackbird and a long tailed tit and I felt mean at depriving them of a home. Added to that is a general disinclination to pick up a chainsaw or go up a ladder. 

We will see.