leaf, frederick road, 11.9.03

Thanks to Jason for Panther; I’m kind of nervous about installing it just yet, but it’s great to have ready.

Additions. Renie reminded me to add another cherished memory from childhood:

Don’t forget about the William Tell Overture and HOURS of hauling firewood—nay, large dead trees—to the green Ford F150.

(My Dad, in a well-meant bid for lower fuel bills in the gas crunch of the late 70’s, decided to install a wood stove in the basemen of our house. Which, naturally, meant we had to go chop wood, drag it to the truck, haul it to the house, split it, stack it down by the shed, and carry wheelbarrowfuls to the basement window each night after dinner. Ah, the memories. Don’t get me started on the time he made me climb a ladder to throw a brick down the flue to clean it…)

The 1812 Overture. One of the wonderful things about living in Catonsville is the number of old trees that surround the neighborhood. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and our yard has been looking like a vacant lot for about two weeks. My father, in the old days, used to wake us for raking duty by putting records on his 1950’s era console record player and blasting the volume; usually it was Tchaikovsky, and he would roust us from bed in the hours before dawn, prop us at the table in front of bacon and eggs, and then kick us out the front door with rakes in our hands to clean the yard. Being young and stupid, we would complain, fool around, and make the job last until long after lunch, when he would stick his head out of the garage or from under the car to tell us to get back to work. I quickly developed a dislike for raking and a Pavlovian response to Tchaikovsky. When I moved to the city and bought a rowhouse, I said a prayer of thanks for the lack of lawn to mow and rake. When we bought the house in Catonsville, I knew what I was getting into, but found that mowing was actually kind of satisfying; unfortunately I’ve confirmed that my dislike of raking is still alive and well.

(To be fair, doing the front yard was kind of fun. About halfway through the backyard, I got sick of it suddenly.)