On Saturday, I undertook the task of cleaning up the leaves, pine needles, and sticks lying around our yard and grossly underestimated the amount of debris to be collected. I started by hitting the local hardware store and buying a package of five brown bags and while I contemplated shelling out the extra $1.97 to double my purchase, the frugal side of me won out and I decided against it. I mean come on, I could buy half a beer with that money. After returning home, Bethany made me a sandwich, I changed into some work clothes, and proceeded to undertake the task at hand.
I now feel I must dissect the previous statement because I feel there’s some material to elaborate on. First off, I am fully capable of making a sandwich for myself and while some may find the statement of my fiancé making me lunch chauvinistic, Bethany makes the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten, so on the days she offers to whip something up for me I would be a fool to turn her down. She inherently always seems to know the correct ratio of meat, cheese and condiment spread to make a delicious lunch. It’s good stuff and if you’ve had one, you know what I’m talking about.
Now for the second part of the statement, I would like to make it known by “work clothes” I mean Adidas wind pants and a New England Patriots’ sweatshirt. Let’s be honest, who doesn’t like to celebrate filling a bag full of leaves by break dancing in their driveway to serve up their neighbors New England fall style.
Alright, so I have a good meal in my stomach and I look like I’m trying out for Breakin 3 so it’s time to hit the yard. I take out my trusty rake and begin my domestic duty for the afternoon. After seventeen minutes I’ve consolidated 40% of the front yard and I realize I should have spent the rest of that beer as well as part of the next round on more bags. I also need a nap so I curl up on the pile of refuse, promptly fall asleep, and wake up to a chipmunk licking my face. I now feel dejected because I not only need to drive to the store again because I Ebenezer Scrooged myself out of spending four dollars, but I’ve also been taken advantage of by one of the Rescue Rangers.
Fortunately, my luck begins to turn because I quickly find a parking spot, receive a free bag of freshly made popcorn at the store, and return home within twenty minutes with ten new paper bags ready to be filled with wet, moldy leaves. I complete the front yard and driveway so I head to the backyard where I find every square inch covered by something I can collect with my rake. I proceeded to make some pretty impressive piles of leaves and remember the days when I would have jumped right in. Obviously, I’m a little too old for that so I fashioned the piles into a fort and pretended I had been trapped in the Alamo with only my rake/rifle to keep me alive. Ah, the life of a sad, disturbing man.
Three hours later I finally fill my fifteenth sack and haul it to the front of the house where it looks like I’m preparing a barricade for the next natural disaster. The task has been completed and I head inside to enjoy a nice cup of warm apple cider.
I now feel I must dissect the previous statement because I feel there’s some material to elaborate on. First off, I am fully capable of making a sandwich for myself and while some may find the statement of my fiancé making me lunch chauvinistic, Bethany makes the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten, so on the days she offers to whip something up for me I would be a fool to turn her down. She inherently always seems to know the correct ratio of meat, cheese and condiment spread to make a delicious lunch. It’s good stuff and if you’ve had one, you know what I’m talking about.
Now for the second part of the statement, I would like to make it known by “work clothes” I mean Adidas wind pants and a New England Patriots’ sweatshirt. Let’s be honest, who doesn’t like to celebrate filling a bag full of leaves by break dancing in their driveway to serve up their neighbors New England fall style.
Alright, so I have a good meal in my stomach and I look like I’m trying out for Breakin 3 so it’s time to hit the yard. I take out my trusty rake and begin my domestic duty for the afternoon. After seventeen minutes I’ve consolidated 40% of the front yard and I realize I should have spent the rest of that beer as well as part of the next round on more bags. I also need a nap so I curl up on the pile of refuse, promptly fall asleep, and wake up to a chipmunk licking my face. I now feel dejected because I not only need to drive to the store again because I Ebenezer Scrooged myself out of spending four dollars, but I’ve also been taken advantage of by one of the Rescue Rangers.
Fortunately, my luck begins to turn because I quickly find a parking spot, receive a free bag of freshly made popcorn at the store, and return home within twenty minutes with ten new paper bags ready to be filled with wet, moldy leaves. I complete the front yard and driveway so I head to the backyard where I find every square inch covered by something I can collect with my rake. I proceeded to make some pretty impressive piles of leaves and remember the days when I would have jumped right in. Obviously, I’m a little too old for that so I fashioned the piles into a fort and pretended I had been trapped in the Alamo with only my rake/rifle to keep me alive. Ah, the life of a sad, disturbing man.
Three hours later I finally fill my fifteenth sack and haul it to the front of the house where it looks like I’m preparing a barricade for the next natural disaster. The task has been completed and I head inside to enjoy a nice cup of warm apple cider.
2 comments:
If you need more yard work fill, you are more than welcome to swing into Lunenburg and chop down a tree or two. At least 40 trees have been cut down in our back yard and I count at least 10 more on the immediate. We've spent the weekend cutting up trees and stacking wood. Does wonders for the 30+ year old back. Bring on the ben gay. God I'm getting old.
Hot apple cider? You your wind pants and Pats sweatshirt say it should have been an ice cold Bud (or Bud Light)...
-Nick
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