Tuesday, October 20, 2015


Turning over a new leaf
Home ownership is no a bed of roses.
In fact come autumn it's a sea of leaves.
We're still adjusting to the scope of our
responsibilities - specifically when it
comes to maintaining terrain. Our yard
was well maintained all summer long
by a school teacher moonlighting as a
lawn ornament. However once school
was back in session he disappeared.
Last year a gentleman helped gather
our foliage. However this year we opted
to do it ourselves. And I'm still trying to
figure out what we were trying to prove.
Stop, drop, rake
Much like my men - I prefer trees that are
well grounded and mature. Our home plot
has three large and quite established trees
that tower over it. Each spring their green
umbrella explodes and keeps us cool thru
summer. This fall our weather has been
beautifully warm with but a few random
polar blasts. Hence all around Lewistown
the foliage was exceptionally brilliant and
for a time colored our world. However all
of a sudden our leaves dropped as quickly
as a whore's panties on Friday night. And
now all we can think is "leaf us alone."

Autumnal overload
If one doesn't believe the adage "too
much of a good thing" I suggest they
spend a little time raking our yard.
Everywhere we look there are leaves.
And frankly even if we don't want to
pick up the mess, somebody must do
the dirty work. Frank's a perfectionist.
However after a few days of trying to
stem said tide he realized his feeble
cleanup attempts were akin to battling
a tsunami with a mop. Ultimately we
waited until the last leaf had dropped.
Then we had no choice but to bag it.
Smoke alarm
In the old days one piled them high in
the street gutter and then lit a match.
Whoever decided that said autumnal
ritual was polluting our air must have
been an idiot. Now even in Montana
one cannot burn their leaves within
city limits. However it's obvious that
somebody outside of said boundary
was doing just that yesterday. Hence
a fragrant reminder of times past that
wafted along with the breeze. Given
nothing is ever easy anymore that is
not an option. And so we must rake.
Love for sale
While we're both old fashioned sort
of guys we quickly lost patience. So
like most challenged men we drove
down to True Value. There one can
get rather nostalgic. You see - even
straight males get a thrill digging
through a mound of nuts. However
we were men on a mission. Quickly
we found the boy toy of our dreams -
an electric leaf blower and VACUUM.
One can only consider said invention
as a gift from God. And so we quickly
grabbed our dream and drove home.
Blow hard
For the next two days Frank piled it on
while I sucked the life out of our acreage.
While it wasn't the most exciting time -
I've ever had with a joy stick - I thought
I'd found a friend for life. Not only did
it munch on Frank's mounds - it eagerly
mulched to my hearts content. We filled
bag after bag of said goodies and drove
back/forth to the family homestead to
dump said debris in the a mushy spot
near the creek. We had a system going
and it was working like a well oiled
machine. Until it suddenly stopped.
Return to sender
All good things must come to an end.
And after about fifty bags and two days,
the damn thing died. Proof that nothing
is as good as it should be - especially
technology. This morning I packed up
our ultimate blow job and shipped it
far away to the land of misbegotten
toy. In theory they will send us a new
one. However given it will also be
crafted of imported plastic - I'm not
keeping my hopes up for long term
satisfaction. In the end all I know is
that this autumn... literally SUCKS!