What Do You Do With A Sea Of Oak Leaves?

   Most people have it in their heads that Southern Live Oak Trees never lose their leaves.  In a sense, they are evergreens...somewhat...but not really.  They do drop all of their leaves within just a couple of weeks during early spring.  When the Southern Live Oak Tree is the most common tree in your yard (think dozens of these huge trees) and they all drop leaves at one time, you wind up with a literal sea of leaves. For the past few weeks, we have been wading through leaves to get to the front door.  By wading, I mean the leaves were at least a foot deep and in some places more.  When you think of the raking that would involve, you try to find other means of disposing of the leaves.  I did. 

  This past week found me pushing the lawnmower just to cut leaves.  This was quite the undertaking as the mountains just did not want to disappear!  I cut.  I cut some more.  Then...I cut some more.  Finally, the leaves were down to a fine mulch that would sift through the fingers with ease.  A lot of this mulch was hauled into the gardens where it will nourish the plants.  The rest was used in the pathways. 

  While I am glad that the leaves near the front of the house are all mulched, there are still three sides of the yard yet to do.  I figure I should be done sometime next year...just before the next dropping of foliage from the oak trees!  Oh, geez!  I hope not!  Seriously, give me another week and all of the gardens and paths will be filled with the fine mulch provided by these trees.  If I had to buy this lovely stuff, I would go broke!  Why buy when it is free for the taking?  I shall keep pushing that mower!  Good exercise...free mulch...pretty gardens...it is a win/win situation, if you ask me.

Lawnmowers can be evil!

   Lawnmowers are dangerous!  It seems that the machines are out to get us.  I have it figured that they are monsters in disguise.  When you least expect it, mowers can leap out in attack!  Wham!  They've got you! It ain't pretty, folks!  It ain't pretty!

  I guess you have gathered by now that I had a run in with the lawnmower, today.  In all fairness, I have to admit that I was stupid and the mower was not at fault.  The mulching of the debris line from Hurricane Zeta is still in full swing.  Using the lawnmower as a mulcher was a hare-brained idea that came to me in the middle of the night when I found that chipper/shredders were outrageously priced.  Knowing that a new machine would rust quickly when putting salt-laden debris in it, I opted to use an old, refurbished lawnmower instead.  Smart thinking...stupid thinking.  The mower is lacking the back guard flap that keeps things from slinging out at your feet.  No problem...until today.  I had carefully (I thought) raked out the debris line and removed anything that could not be mulched.  For the past two days, everything has gone smoothly.  Today, I was obviously lax in sorting and left one unseen object in the debris.  That object could have been my undoing.  As it is, I have a slight injury to my wrist.  

  After mowing for about an hour, I noticed a rather large chunk of wood between me and the mower.  I reached down to remove it and, at that very instance, the mower picked up an 8 inch long bolt and propelled it toward my leg.  The bolt, now jagged from impact with the blade, caught my wrist, instead.  A two inch long slice was cut into the flesh and blood oozed down into my hand.  Well, now!  I wiped the blood off onto my jeans and I continued.  The wrist did not hurt so I figured I could keep working.  It was just a "flesh-wound".  Again, blood filled the palm of my hand and dripped to the fingertips.  Ok, so it was time to head to the Little Bayou House for a repair job!  

  After cleaning the wound, I packed it full of turmeric, bandaged it and headed out the door to work.  Since I am working with debris from the Bayou waters that teem with the flesh-eating bacteria during warm months, I figure I did not need to take any chances.  The turmeric should tend to that for me.  The bolt was obviously ripped from one of the pier stringer boards.  It was rusty and had been in the water for some time.  Perhaps, I should have called it a day but there was work to be done and no time to lollygag about.  The wound will be watched but I am sure not going to whine.  Life is good.  Lawnmowers, on the other hand, can be evil!....Nah, it is all good.  I just need to be a bit more careful.

Was That Even A Compliment???

  After painting the screen doors, it was time to crank up the old lawnmower and head to the woods.  I was becoming bored with the same old hiking paths so it was my intentions to start a new one.  The underbrush was thick and pushing that old mower through was one tough job but I was relentless!  I figured if I wanted a hiking path so I could get exercise, creating the path would give me just as good of a workout.  It did!  I gnawed through that underbrush like it was no one's business! I pushed.  I pulled.  I walked a good 20,000+ steps.  (Yes.  I did wear a step counter...20,704 steps today.)  Almost 4 hours later, I was purely exhausted!  I figured I had done enough for one day.  In fact, I was rather proud of the whole effort.  My new path was looking good and the walking meter said it was a little over 7 miles.  Oh, I am good!  Oh, I feel great (tired but great!).  Oh, I accomplished something!

  Just after returning the push mower to its designated "parking" spot, Son stopped working on house repairs long enough to share a glass of water with me.  "You know, Mom.  You are not doing half bad for a woman your age." he deadpanned.  Ok.  I took that as a compliment...for a short moment.  Then, it hit me.  "For a woman your age"....was that an underhanded punch to the gut??  Am I THAT old that I have reached "woman of your age" status?    Hmmm.  I think he meant it as a compliment...right?  Ok, so I admit it.  I am old but did he have to remind me?  

  Aside from the conversation that left me perplexed, I still felt good about my work.  The new path is coming along nicely.  It will require a good bit more work with the mower and then a saw and snips will come into play.  There are a lot of low limbs that need to be cleared to make the path safe.  Hopefully, this old lady can keep the current burst of energy going for a bit longer.

The Workout!

  Life has a way of throwing a whole bunch of trouble at you all at the same time.  It never seems to fail that if one thing is going to be troublesome, everything is going to start trying to get in on the action.  Frustration can often build until a person is nigh on a breaking point.  That is the way it has been here on the Bayou as of late.  It seems as if the stress is bound and determined to get to me.  It had gotten to the point that this morning, I had enough and something had to give.  It was me.  

  Along about 7am, I figured that if I was going to have all of this pent up aggravation, I may as well put the energy to good use.  There was certainly no way I was going to wallow in the mire of a bad mood any longer.  Time to get things in gear.  So I did.  My trusty lawnmower got the workout of its days today.  For almost a total of seven hours, I pushed and pulled that thing.  At first, I was getting the best workout of my life!  I went at it with such gusto that doing the lawn was not enough.  My lawnmower was pushed to the woods where I trimmed out things that no mower should be expected to cut.  With the mood I was in, the mower probably had second thoughts about balking being afraid that I might just hum it to the back of the Bayou and leave it.  Along about an hour later, I felt freer.  The frustration was beginning to lift and I started actually feeling good about what I was doing.  So...I pushed some more.  Four times, the gas tank had to be refilled just to keep me going.  Mark and Son kept asking if I was sure I wanted to keep cutting.  Yep.  You two get on back to work on those termites and leave the grass to me.

  Seven hours later, close to 4 acres had been cut.  Parts of the woods now became parts of the yard.  The overgrowth by the marsh has been trimmed back to help prevent snakes from encroaching on the path.  Leaves have been mulched to prevent that dreaded chore of raking.  And I saved a bundle of money.  There was no need to buy a gym membership when I can get this kind of exercise and there was no need to pay a therapist to sort my problems.  The mower and seven hours did it for me.  Putting all of that stress into a productive task did the trick.  Tonight, I am sore...I am exhausted...I feel better...oh, so much better.

The End......

Worn out! Haggard! On the last legs! Decrepit! No, no, no..not me! Although, some might argue that point! I am referring to my lawnmower. It is dead! Completely obliterated! Last summer, I admit that I had problems with this same machine. The poor thing was crippled for a while until Hubby welded the front wheel back into place. I had literally ripped the wheel from the frame thus making it quite difficult to maneuver the mower at all. A three-legged..er..wheeled mower is beyond use..but as I said it was welded back in place and I was eager to cut again.

I have this desperate need to cut most every thing that stands in my way when mowing. I have no qualms about attempting to mow brush that is higher than my head. This might be ok if I had a larger, stronger machine. I have a small "push" style mower. I cut everything with this same mower..everything! Son also cuts. He has the new mower. "Why," you might ask "does he have the new mower and I the old?" It is a matter of cutting methods. He carefully avoids sticks, brush, rocks, trees, boulders, houses..ok..so that might be stretching it a bit, but you get the idea. I have a tendency to be a mite rough with my machine so I get stuck with the older of the two.

Today, I was merely cutting around the pier when I had the problem. Yes, the "grass" here had grown quite tall and thick. Actually, to be truthful, I was pushing the mower into the underbrush that obscured the view of what might be hidden..items such as driftwood. I promise that I did not intentionally mangle the mower! It just happened. I shoved it in the head-high forest and the motor simply died. I pulled, tugged and heaved. Finally, the machine came out of the dense brush. I tried to crank it again. I pulled on that goofy rope until I wore a blister on my hand. Now what? Then I heard Son's lawnmower stop! He came to my rescue! When he came into view of the mower, he stopped and stared. "Umm..Mom..are you sure you want me to try to start this thing?" I assured him that it just needed a few more cranks and it would be up and running. I am always the optimist when it comes to my machines! He stared at me and I got the feeling that something might be amiss. He simply pointed to the gas tank. "I think it has died for the last time, Mom." he stated. Sure enough..the gas tank was laying on its side looking quite destroyed. My lawnmower seem unrepairable.

When Son managed to drag the poor, lifeless machine to the house, he started pointing out other problems. The carburetor was ripped from the top of the tank..the tank had a huge hole busted in its side..the engine was busted from the frame..the handle mount was bent and the back wheel was wobbly. I really did an outstanding job! He said he had never seen anything like this before! Son called Hubby.."Hey Dad, ummm..Mom might need a new mower." Hubby stopped hammering on the deck long enough to peer at the mound of parts that used to be known as a lawnmower. "What happened to that thing?" he questioned in an astonished tone. "Ummm..Mom used it?????" Well, I like that! As if that was what was wrong here! Not inferior parts..not shoddy workmanship by the company that made this machine..not mower-eating monsters that are hiding in the bushes..."Mom used it!" Well! Hmmmph!

Needless to say, Hubby graciously made a trip to the store and returned with a new mower! A beautiful, shiny machine with all of the bells and whistles that one could desire. It was a dream machine..one that would make cutting grass a pleasure. I let out a low whistle..wow! This is awesome! Then Hubby and Son turned to me and said in unison.."Yeah..you can use the other one now..it is the "old" one." SO! I get the mower Son used to use and he gets the new one! But then..I guess they know me well enough..I will be back down in the briers again soon enough!