So last week, I bitched about all the coming yard work I had to do due to the immigration of leaves from the trees to my backyard. I thought I had a hopeless, daunting task to attend to this weekend… But something unexplainable has happened. I do believe the Mothership must have come down and raked my leaves for me. When I returned home from the Red Flannel Ride and “after party” at Michael’s, I pulled into my driveway to see piles of leaves in my ditches in front of my house. At first, I was furious at my neighbors–what right have they to put their leaves in my yard for the city collection when I had thousands upon thousands of my own leaves to pick up and put in the ditch.
Until… I happened to look in my backyard the next morning and saw that all of the leaves on the one side of my yard were mysteriously gone! As if they’d never been there.
Hmmm. I thought. Surely my neighbors didn’t pick up my leaves for me? Is that even possible?
Well, I don’t know what happened to the leaves in my backyard, but there was basically just a small contingent remaining by a tree in the far corner. So today I chopped them all up by running over them multiple times with my lawn mower. I certainly was not about to spend hours raking them up. No way. Even if I had missed my morning bike ride and needed desperately to get some exercise before going out to dinner (and Don Giovanni) with my mom tonight. The sweat and frustration of rearranging leaves into a pile and then loading them into a wheelbarrow to move to my front yard for the city pickup is just too much work, even for a 64-degree day in November. There’s always much better things to do than yard work.
I mowed both my front and back lawn, chopping up all the leaves so that they can hopefully be used as compost for the lawn. Much, much easier work than raking the leaves.
But, still, I wonder if one of my neighbors was actually nice enough to help me out last weekend. Or maybe it was just a freak of nature–all the wind blew the leaves that carpeted my yard into someone else’s yard. Or maybe all the leave-blowers in my neighborhood created a giant vortex that swept my leaves off into another dimension where leaves are loved like diamonds. I don’t know. Either way, out of sight, out mind for me.
I now feel bad for ranting about my neighbors’ apparent dislike of me in an earlier entry. Perhaps one of them lurks on my blog? Ha, wouldn’t that be something? Confidentially, I’m hoping I have a handsome secret admirer out there who, knowing that I was on the Red Flannel Ride, came out and took care of my leaves for me. I don’t think it was my dad, though. He’s the one who told me to run them over with the lawnmower.