Sam and I are going to engage in a little leaf-raking therapy the next day or two, providing the sun holds on. It’s been foggy every morning this week, but occasionally sunny for an hour or two n the afternoons. Yesterday was lawn mowing day, tomorrow might be leaf raking day. The lady across the street offered to let us borrow her blower but I have a bad habit of breaking things and those darned blowers are so noisy.
I don’t much care for noise anymore. I suppose I made too much of it myself when I was younger. I don’t think Sam likes noise either because whenever the smoke detector starts wailing (every time Kathleen forgets to turn the stove fan on), Sam starts wailing too. He tends to wail when Kathleen plays her recorder (flute-like thingy) also, so she’s banned him from her music practices. I can’t get him to howl like a wolf though, I’ve tried to teach him but he just looks at me like I’ve got a screw loose.
Sam likes leaf raking because its quiet and he can sniff around our bushes in bucolic peace, pee on the trees and chase birds. A noisy leaf blower might scare him and the birds. The vacuum cleaner scares him, so I’m assuming a leaf blower would too. On the other hand, thunder and fireworks don’t bother him in the least.
Leaf blowers are awfully noisy and rakes are relatively quiet. Last year about this time I blogged about the fact that some people in a ritzy neighborhood in California were up in arms because they had hired people to care for their lawns and too many of the hired people were using leaf blowers and the din was worse than those football fans in the Hawks’ Nest trying to set a noise record for that Guinness book.
We don’t have too many leaf blowers in my neighborhood. But we do have chain saws, lawnmowers, a guy who used to rev the engine of his ’69 Chevy so the whole neighborhood could hear his pipes, and a guy who must be a heavy equipment operator because he often brings home noisy tractors, excavators, backhoes, and whatever else he can fit in his yard, to make noise.
We also have Joint Base Lewis/McChord just up the road and we often hear helicopters clattering overhead and the whump, whump of mortar fire or howitzers. Quite often we hear machine guns rattling too. But Sam and I don’t mind the sounds of freedom. Those just mean our country is being protected.
While Sam is doing his thing, I intend to rake. But as usually is the case, I suppose my good intentions will soon give way to idle daydreaming. Daydreaming is the real therapy. I often daydream about turning our yard into an oasis of beautiful plants and flowers that require minimal care or taking a road trip somewhere. Daydreaming is almost as therapeutic as coffee and donuts. Of course you really need a good glass of wine and some chocolates to go with daydreaming.
Once Sam tires of chasing birds and decides to lay down in the shade of our raspberry bushes that will be my signal to seek out the comfort of a nap on my lawn chair on the patio. Leaf raking sure is good therapy.
And that’s no poop!
I don’t much care for noise anymore. I suppose I made too much of it myself when I was younger. I don’t think Sam likes noise either because whenever the smoke detector starts wailing (every time Kathleen forgets to turn the stove fan on), Sam starts wailing too. He tends to wail when Kathleen plays her recorder (flute-like thingy) also, so she’s banned him from her music practices. I can’t get him to howl like a wolf though, I’ve tried to teach him but he just looks at me like I’ve got a screw loose.
Sam likes leaf raking because its quiet and he can sniff around our bushes in bucolic peace, pee on the trees and chase birds. A noisy leaf blower might scare him and the birds. The vacuum cleaner scares him, so I’m assuming a leaf blower would too. On the other hand, thunder and fireworks don’t bother him in the least.
Leaf blowers are awfully noisy and rakes are relatively quiet. Last year about this time I blogged about the fact that some people in a ritzy neighborhood in California were up in arms because they had hired people to care for their lawns and too many of the hired people were using leaf blowers and the din was worse than those football fans in the Hawks’ Nest trying to set a noise record for that Guinness book.
We don’t have too many leaf blowers in my neighborhood. But we do have chain saws, lawnmowers, a guy who used to rev the engine of his ’69 Chevy so the whole neighborhood could hear his pipes, and a guy who must be a heavy equipment operator because he often brings home noisy tractors, excavators, backhoes, and whatever else he can fit in his yard, to make noise.
We also have Joint Base Lewis/McChord just up the road and we often hear helicopters clattering overhead and the whump, whump of mortar fire or howitzers. Quite often we hear machine guns rattling too. But Sam and I don’t mind the sounds of freedom. Those just mean our country is being protected.
While Sam is doing his thing, I intend to rake. But as usually is the case, I suppose my good intentions will soon give way to idle daydreaming. Daydreaming is the real therapy. I often daydream about turning our yard into an oasis of beautiful plants and flowers that require minimal care or taking a road trip somewhere. Daydreaming is almost as therapeutic as coffee and donuts. Of course you really need a good glass of wine and some chocolates to go with daydreaming.
Once Sam tires of chasing birds and decides to lay down in the shade of our raspberry bushes that will be my signal to seek out the comfort of a nap on my lawn chair on the patio. Leaf raking sure is good therapy.
And that’s no poop!
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