Call the Man!

Who hasn't seen a neighbor's driveway adorned with this recently?   Many think it's sheer madness to spread chopped up trees on top of flowerbeds.  I, however, take personal pride in the effort.  But, after 50 years and a couple of hip surgeries, I'm not about to move ten yards of heavy, fragrant wood debris anywhere.

This weekend in Rochester it was unseasonably warm and humid.  Across the street from my house, a friend stared pensively at his newly dumped pile of mulch and the dry and scattered flower beds targeted as its ultimate destination.   I snickered devilishly knowing full well that my mulch problems were to be solved by a call to the local garden store, the soon-to-be hard work of a couple of hale and hearty fellows and a large check written for the effort.  My weary neighbor pitched in and a two days later was very much the worse for wear.  In fact, at a Sunday neighborhood party meant to reward all those who had participated in a tiring weekend of yard work, he made only a brief appearance before sagging back to his abode.

As I watched him begin to swelter in the late morning sun, I turned to go back into the house to sip another cup of coffee and chat with my wife.  Just then, a pickup truck towing a large trailer arrived at my house.  Doh!

We have a comfortably appointed fire pit in our backyard and we love to have evening fires for the enjoyment of all who care to sit and warm themselves.  But, fire pits take wood for fuel and today, much to my forgetful surprise, was the day I had ordered two face cords be dropped off.   So, as requested, they were dropped off . . . in a pile . . . a couple of hundred feet from where they needed to be stacked.

My neighbor, taking a break from his labors, smiled and shouted, "Building a log cabin?"  Might as well with all this!   It was a long and draining afternoon.