November 8

I know mother nature had a plan for the leaves that she had worked out would give up the mother ship and fall every year with the oncoming cooler weather. The leaves, a must for the survival of the tree that grows it, but I don't think it quits working for the mother when it falls off. I suspect it had a job of keeping the base a little warmer in the really cold of the winter as well as adding nutrients back to the soil as it decays. Probably replacing some that mother's roots sucked up during the summer.

If I was the chief cook and bottle washer there by awarding me the supreme right to make every decision around here, I would allow nature it's due course. It isn't so much the labor but because I've become so soft hearted in my older years that I can't bear the thoughts of shooting wild game of any kind and the softness runs on over into thinking all nature things should be left to their natural span. Oh, I almost forgot another contributor, gasoline for the blower is now $2.949 per gallon and I'm needing some.

Who knows? The tree that we had removed recently may have died because of our taking away its warming nutrient makers every fall over the past 14 years.

Dory has her day scheduled to accommodate a trip with her mother to Columbia for a doctor's appointment while my assigned task is to stay here and work on the dratted leaf removal project some more. If it isn't too windy a leaf burning will occur. I'm thinking I ought to burn them where thy lay, saving oodles in the use of that expensive gasoline. I could or probably would cut all the house cleaning chores to one last time at a couple or three homes that being as the wetted burned out shells are loaded into trucks for hauling off.

“The secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can fake that, you’ve got it made.” —Groucho Marx