We have a huge silver maple tree in our front yard. This tree has me and Brandon both feeling conflicted. In general, we are huggers of trees of all kinds. But trees whose roots grow into our sewer line, causing emergency weekend calls to Roto-Rooter? Trees whose roots grow partially above ground and wreak havoc with our lawnmower blade? Trees that block our amazing view of Mt. Olympus? Not so much. We have resolved that the tree must come down. But until we get around to carrying out its death sentence, we may as well enjoy what few spoils it affords...
That grungy guy in the background is our neighbor, Bill. Or maybe his name is Jim. When we first moved in he introduced himself to Brandon as 'Bill Clinton,' fervent Obama supporter; but a recent conversation with the daughter of a neighbor revealed that his name is, in fact, Jim, and the reason he's a little 'off' is that he is a Vietnam vet. We gave him some cookies today, wrapped in cellophane and tied with red & blue ribbon and a 'Thank You'. He didn't say, "thanks" (not that he has to). He said, "I'll eat these right now. I'm hungry." and proceeded to do so. We were outside raking leaves into a pile for Gavin to jump into. JimBill insisted on interrupting the jumping fun in order to instruct us in the absolute best way to bag raked leaves (he is an expert, having raked and bagged leaves for numerous neighbors... using
our rake), regardless of the fact that we were trying to make the biggest pile possible. In the interest of neighborliness, and because loose cannons make us nervous, we let him show us. Incidentally, the keys to efficient leaf bagging include lining a 30-gallon trash can with a bag that has been 'lanced' (had holes poked in it) so that air pockets are not trapped between the bag and the can wall. Pure genius.
With a stop at our neighborhood glass recycling bin. Our neighbors have good taste.
Nary a Busch in sight.
