The first time I drag the rake out is downright enjoyable. Almost. Starts out that way, anyhow. Then the bugs start biting, and the miserable &*^%$ gnats start buzzing around my head, and make me feel like Schultz's dirty kid Pigpen. Then comes a pain here and an ache there, followed by a dry mouth, sneezing, and a runny nose. (And that's only five minutes into the job.) Next morning? Darned if the inconsiderate rat bastard leaves aren't ankle-deep all over again.
Know what? If I work hard enough at it, maybe I can forget about the exercise, and learn to ignore the leaves, no matter how deep they get. Like the cat in this picture. And like the cat I'm married to. (Smarticus thinks raking leaves is a monumental waste of time.)
On the other hand, I miss these trees. Palms. The kind we saw when we visited our family in Florida. This picture doesn't begin to do them justice, though. They looked so cool silhouetted against the dark sky and full moon. (And bonus! Nobody has to rake up after them, either.)
And I miss these trees, dripping with Spanish moss. (And okay, dripping with quarter-sized banana spiders, too, but hush... I'm on a roll.) Dramatic looking trees, aren't they? Just loverly...
(Just in case you've never seen a banana spider...)
To tell the truth, I wouldn't mind having to rake up all the leaves in our yard if our trees had the decency to put on a nice technicolor show for us first. Nope, not this year. This year, it's brown... then down. (and down and down and down...) Heck, some of the leaves are committing suicide while they're still green. Then they just lay on the ground, shriveling up into crunchy skeletal remains. No breath-taking color. No slow strip tease of leaves. Just big ol' dumps of brown (and green) leaves. (sigh)
Okay, I'll admit it. It isn't the leaf-raking that's turning me into a kvetching ol' fartessa. And it isn't really the Florida trees... or heat... or bugs... I miss.
|It's the kids I miss. (Although the kid with the beard came home with me.)|
|Princess Olivia is a little Southern belle.|
|Three-month-old Atlas is a real heart-stealer.|
|He sure stole mine.|
|And big sister Jordan's.|
|Even big brother Josh thinks it's pretty neat to have another dude around.|
Oh yeah, Don't forget. You know what tomorrow is in the U.S., don't ya?
Don't forget to vote! If you don't vote, you can't kvetch about who wins the election.
Oh, wait! One more thing. Have any of you been experiencing difficulty changing your header picture? I go through all the usual steps, but the old picture is... still there. ( I really *need* to change the header to the yam with the Falcons banner before the team loses all chances of winning a couple more games this season. They (ahem) obviously *need* my support...)
|Atlas dressed as a football. But don't worry. There were no spiral passes or spiking involved.|
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.