I don't know about the rest of you,
but I think fall is officially over
and winter has arrived.
Sunday afternoon I watched
ice pellets bounce off the car hood
and the wind whip the leaves
like a tornado.
Of course, that is the day
my husband decided
it was time to winterize the yard.
Just couldn't have done it
a week or two ago
when a light sweatshirt would
have been sufficient covering.
No, that would have been too comfortable-
too much like play...
I pictured a day
when we could rake the yard
in slow motion-
(like a romantic movie)-
where the golden leaves
would fall like feathers,
and soft violins would play
in the background,
and we would smile coyly
at one another and our
loyal dog would romp with us
as we playfully fell into
a pile of leaves
and
kissed.
But, nooooo....
He picked a day when I had to rummage
through my closet to find my Eskimo gear.
I put on my pink flowered long johns,
and over them, a pair of sweats that
said ARMY down one leg.
I put on a pair of thin socks and
a pair of super thick ones over those-
(The thick ones had zebra cuffs on them.
Don't even ask why I ever bought those.
I'm not really sure.)
Then I put on a sweater
topped with a hoodie,
and then covered all that with a jacket.
I pulled up my hood and then
smashed a sock cap over it.
I wore two pair of gloves
and my old boots.
Other than the fact
that I had to move sideways
out the door,
I was fairly warm.
But I looked like something
from a Weight Watcher's nightmare.
I could just hear the neighbors...
"Roy- come here quick!
Look at her over there-
has she packed on some pounds, or what?"
Every few minutes or so, I even shouted-
"I got two pair of pants and three shirts on, people!"
(But I don't think anyone really heard me.)
We put away the grill, the swing,
the picnic table,
the patio chairs, the rockers,
and the solar ornaments.
We disconnected the water hose,
emptied the rain gauge,
and stored the scarecrow.
And there we were-
like something out of a horror movie-
a good looking man
with his blimpy wife-
the cold wind tossing my
hair into my eyes-
ice forming on my brows-
frost bite tingling in my fingertips...
Suddenly, my daydream movie changed.
I picture us out there raking leaves-
scowling and cursing with each
pull of the rake...
The harsh, cold wind
breaking branches from the trees..
Our loyal and faithful dog is inside
under the blankets...
Some heavy metallic sci-fi music
is playing in the background
and we look over at each other in disgust
and I get angry
and throw myself into the leaves
and lay there like a turtle
who's been turned on his back
and I waddle back and forth,
trying to get up
but my husband just laughs
and runs to get the camera...
Or a beer.
Whichever comes first.
But reality is- that at the end of the day,
when my face thaws out
and my hands and toes
start to get feeling back in them,
we curl up in our favorite chairs,
sip hot coffee, and are glad
that it is all done for another year.
I will miss Mr. Scarecrow.
Can't wait to see him in the summer.
And all the other things
that will be brought out to enjoy
once again.
But, I can already bet
my husband will pick
the hottest day of the year!
And, believe me,
you don't even want to know
what that daydream movie
looks like...
