I am watching my dad out the window. He is raking leaves. He is 93.
First he went over the whole yard on his lawn tractor
pulling some sort of leaf collecting attachment.
He has dumped several loads of the collected
leaves in piles around the yard and now he has to do something with them.
So he has brought out his trusty ‘cardboard
sled’ that he invented.
It is a huge
piece of heavy cardboard made from a refrigerator shipping box (from his
brother’s appliance store), flattened out and fitted with a board across one
end with a rope handle attached to it.
He rakes the leaf piles onto the cardboard sled and then pulls the
loaded sled with his tractor off toward the back of the property where they end
up I don’t know where.
Then he returns
to rake more piles onto the sled.
He’s
very methodical.
He will do this as long
as it takes.
And it’s cold out there.
I love watching my dad do stuff like this. Yesterday I watched him harvest his acorn
squash out of his garden. He leaves the
winter squashes on the vine as long as he can, because they keep better that
way, even though the vine looks dead.
Then finally when the weatherman forecasts the first frost, Dad goes out
and harvests the squash. This is a
yearly ritual. Sometimes the harvest
happens in the dark of night because he hasn’t heard about the frost until the
evening news, so he goes out there with flashlight and basket and rescues them
just in the nick of time. I am glad he
did it in daylight this time. He is
sorely disappointed because he bought seed for butternut squash and instead it came up acorn. Just not the
same. I love to see those butternut
squash all huddled together in the wheelbarrow after he has picked them. If you can picture these flesh-colored squash
all piled up together, you will understand why he calls them his ‘bare naked
babies’. Anyway, no babies this
year. Just these dark green things. That’s okay.
They taste good too.
I imagine when he’s done with his leaf project he’ll come
back inside and read the paper for awhile.
He goes to the corner chair next to the window and reads until pretty
soon I hear ‘crunch’………’crunch’………..’crunch’………as the paper slowly lowers into
his lap and his eyelids close. He calls
this his ‘news snooze’. But when he
comes back fully awake afterward, he will do the word jumble. He does the word jumble every day to keep his
mind from going soft. (Or words to that
effect.) And just to challenge himself a
little more, he doesn’t write anything down.
He does it all in his head. Holy
moly, I gotta tell ya, if he can do THAT, his mind’s a lot firmer than mine. I
always know when he’s working on the jumble because I catch him slunked way
down in the chair, one leg crossed over the other, staring into space. Thinkin’.
So these are just a few glimpses into life with Dad. I admire him so much. He does what needs doing around here, but all
in good time. What’s the rush? Read a little paper, watch a little TV, eat a
little dinner, take a little nap, play a little organ, play a little saxophone,
exercise a little, take a little nap…(yeah, I know I already said that).
I’m ashamed to admit it, but after seeing him do all that
work, I think I’m ready for a nap.
Posts
First he went over the whole yard on his lawn tractor
pulling some sort of leaf collecting attachment. He has dumped several loads of the collected
leaves in piles around the yard and now he has to do something with them. So he has brought out his trusty ‘cardboard
sled’ that he invented. It is a huge
piece of heavy cardboard made from a refrigerator shipping box (from his
brother’s appliance store), flattened out and fitted with a board across one
end with a rope handle attached to it.
He rakes the leaf piles onto the cardboard sled and then pulls the
loaded sled with his tractor off toward the back of the property where they end
up I don’t know where. Then he returns
to rake more piles onto the sled. He’s
very methodical. He will do this as long
as it takes. And it’s cold out there.
