Piles of Leaves and Sticks

Inspirational song: Blowin' in the Wind (Bob Dylan)

I'm a bit tired and cranky, and there are a handful of things I just don't want to talk about, other than to say, they will get what they asked for (and worse), and they'll drag us all down with them. I give up.

I borrowed a leaf blower this week, to see whether it could make any difference in how quickly I was able to tidy up my Park. Wow. After years of turning my nose up at them, thinking they were the lazy way out, I have to admit I was wrong. These things are pretty cool after all, and they still make your arms ache like the dickens after toting one around all day. I still have a fair bit of work outside, but I did more in a couple hours of work than I could have done in three days with a rake and broom. I haven't erased all signs of autumn from the ground, but it sure looks a lot tidier. The deck looks amazing, and it only took about three minutes to do the whole thing, and get it all far cleaner than a half an hour of sweeping with a broom. The mulched flower beds up front look great, and even the expansion grooves in the concrete are cleaned out. I feel less like the disgrace of my block, especially after using the edger along the driveway as well. Ah, suburbia. At least I fit in a little better now.

On my miserable birthday, I had tried to light a fire in the iron fire pit, and I failed. I tried and tried and got more and more angry as it refused to catch. It had rained a few days earlier, but I didn't think the wood was that wet for that long. Apparently it was. While I worked in the back, I decided to try again on all the little sticks that didn't play nice with the blower/vacuum. Today, after a much drier few weeks, the pile of mostly kindling lit with a single match, and caught to a healthy flame within a few seconds. I was able to feed it and keep it going for the whole time I was outside. There was one moment, after I grabbed a few sticks from under the sycamores, that I realized that what I thought were downed branches were actually dead poison ivy roots that once encircled one of the trees. I clued into this after I had already dropped them onto the fire, and immediately I wondered whether the breeze was carrying poison ivy irritants in the smoke into the neighbor's yard. I felt bad about it, but what could I have done once it was already burning? I hope they were inside with the windows closed. I think they were.