I Think Mother Nature Means Business

When I looked at the temps before I went walking this morning, I was a bit taken aback when it said the air chill felt like 18 degrees.  I suited up and headed out.  Dressed warmly, I didn’t mind the brisk air.  I always take my phone along in the jacket pocket.  Being safe is what being 75 is all about.

Dennis couldn’t resist one more swipe at the leaves.  The Hackberry had a blanket of pretty green leaves on the east end of the acre that had chosen overnight to fall . . . no more!  I must say, the yard is ready for the next blanket of covering.  I knew Dennis would put the battery of the Cub-Lo-Boy into the garage for winter’s keeping.  At that point,  I knew . . . Dennis would be calling it quits for being the summer and fall grounds keeper on Stauffer Avenue.  God willing there will be a break before the snowblower has to be brought out.

Dennis filled the gas tank on the Cub before taking it to the back garage.  I stood by and watched.  It’s what I do.  As Dennis lifted the five gallon gasoline container to the hood of the tractor, there was a dribble that hit the hood of the tractor consistently.  With the weight being what it was, Dennis was leaning onto the hood of the tractor.  I waited until Dennis was finished and then asked for the nylon down-filled jacket as I offered him a trade.  I could just imagine Dennis lighting a cigarette, not realizing how soaked the jacket had become with gas.  Yup . . . Grammie’s ever watchful of the ole cowboy.  I took the jacket into the laundry and sprayed with with Shout and then into the washing machine it went.

Mother Nature means business, but so do I.  There are plenty of things that can go happen-stance without pushing Lady Luck.

Dennis and I took all the empty gas cans up to the corner station to fill them.  Dennis added some Sta-bil into each of the three containers.  We are set for a time when the snowblower needs to be  started.  The electric power cord to start the snowblower is right where it needs to be for ease of using. 

I do believe the older ones on Stauffer Avenue can breathe easy for a day or two.  I am not betting that Dennis won’t come up with something . . . he has been on quite a roll.   Me . . . I’ll always have something going in the sewing studio.