I heard it before my car came to a complete stop. Chainsaws, mulchers and the labored grunts of manual workers coming from behind my house. Music to my ears!
My neighbor’s son and grandkids are clearing out the storm debris this week. I can hear the mulcher roaring out the window behind me as I type this, but I don’t feel guilty enough to go help. The kids are young and fit and bounce back after falling off ladders. Not me.
[And wouldn’t it you know that tiny Brandyn is out there all by herself now, working like a mule. The guys are probably out front drinking beers. And you know I’m not joking.]
Chris (the grandson-in-law) even started cutting up my cherry tree. We never agreed to this, but I guess I’m obligated now. It’s not like I was going to do anything with the carcass anytime soon, so it’s all good.
If all goes as planned, I’ll have my tattered yard back by the weekend. If it were earlier in the season, I’d try to do something with it. As it is nearly August – AAAHHHHHH!!!!! – I think I’ll just let it go and try again next year. As my late neighbor Woody always said to me, “What’s your rush? You’ve got plenty of time for housework, and then you die”.
Can’t much argue with that.