Sunday, November 23, 2008

62


That's the number of bags of leaves currently sitting in our front yard. 62. We own less than half an acre of land. Little did we know, that slice of green bliss is home to the best leaf-producing trees this side of Canada. Now, we did try to wait until most of the leaves had fallen (thanks to our neighbors for pointing out that we were a bit behind in the yard-sprucing (no pun intended) category) so that contributed greatly to the sheer bulk of leaves we had to collect. I still had no idea. Yesterday I mistakenly picked up the largest possible box of leaf bags for the project (70) and naively commented that we'd have enough bags now for two years. Hahahaha...buh. With any luck that will just barely be enough for us to finish the last batch doomed to fall in a few weeks.

This on a glorious Sunday afternoon: four hours in the back yard (thankfully my husband conquered the front yard yesterday) raking, bending, scooping, kneeling, scooping, bagging and hauling. So much time outdoors that I will be blowing dirt out of my nose for at least the next 24-hours.

Listening to our neigbor blow (yes, sometimes back into our yard) his leaves didn't help morale. But we were not to be swayed. My husband is a human juke-box and the creative side of his brain was in high gear as the classics of "Baa-baa black sheep have you any leaves" and "100 bags of leaves in the yard" were periodically sung for my pleasure. Occasionally I succumbed to the childish pleasure of making a minor mess of the leaves, only to quickly assume my adult self and realize I had to clean it up.

And, to my husband's chagrin, just as my efforts in the kitchen to get all the ingredients (flour being the worst offender) into the correct container sans mess are often thwarted, I am equally unqualified to scoop up armfuls of leaves and dump them in a bagged trash recepticle without most of them ending up outside the can. Come to think of it, I have this problem frequently with getting food into my mouth.

It was almost worth it to watch the neigborhood kid drive by on his bicycle with his mouth gaping open in wonder at the plastic-leaf-bag fence we'd constructed in our front yard. He tried to count them but gave up. 62.

1 comment:

  1. Your Dad will be delighted to tell you the story of the neighbor who bagged and left sit for over a year bags and bags of leaves. Some are still in his back yard after two years. I hope yours have been collected by the city by now!

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