A farmyard is larger than most yards in town, times ten. So far I’ve raked about one percent of the lawn around my house. Yesterday, I raked and moved three wheelbarrows full of fallen sticks and last year’s leaves.
The day wasn’t as pretty as the day before, which took away the ‘fun’ of raking. I kept Sunny outside with me. After taking him for a potty walk, I slipped his lead over a heavy wooden chair and let him watch me work.
The soft soil makes pushing the wheelbarrow work, too, but it seems the best way I can move things right now.
I took a timeout from work on the glider. It needs oil as it squeaks. Bob hated its squeak. The squeak doesn’t bother me much. It actually reminds me of Bob. My husband couldn’t use the glider much as his bad hip made it difficult for him to get in and out of it.
This is just another day on Sunnybook Farm where I am self-isolating. This isn’t as bad as it sounds as I live in the best place on earth and Bob continues to be with me, even if in spirit.
I’m a writer, so when I pick up a rake or shovel it is usually grudgingly. Still, work has to be done.
Last year, autumn changed into winter too soon. A lot of fall yard work was left until spring. Now besides fallen leaves, I have fallen branches to pick up. Those chores aren’t too bad, but raking has added issues.
With a gravel driveway, a lot of the stones were picked up when winter snow was plowed. Every spring raking that gravel adds to the work. Stones are much harder and heavier to rake.
Getting as much gravel out of the grass as possible is important. Hitting rocks would be hard on the mower, besides they can go flying and hurt someone.
After two hours of work, I was pooped.
It doesn’t help that there’s a lot more to rake. So this afternoon I’ll be out in the yard raking again. Good thing the weather will be in the 50s after lunch.
Writing is so much easier. At least it is when I have something to write about.
Joyce and I have been friends since first grade. We started school together in 1956 and have been best friends ever since.
Even though Joyce lives in Illinois and I’m here in Wisconsin, we still manage to visit. For quite some time we used our telephones to talk to each other, but we are going high tech now and we use the internet.
For Christmas, Joyce was given a Facebook Portal mini with the idea of connecting to me. Well, we finally figured how to use it and instead of holding a telephone, we are now talking and visiting as we look at each other.
We are also playing Words with Friends as we talk and laughing a lot, too.
Joyce and I are enjoying our visiting time together more than ever.
I also connected with writer friends the other day. There were four of us visiting at the same time.
Isn’t technology wonderful? Especially since we are all sheltering at home.
I received a reminder that my friend had a birthday today. Usually, a bunch of us would meet for coffee and cake to celebrate, but that won’t happen.
What could I do? I’m not big on singing the birthday song and I already sent a card, but there should be more I could do. I thought and thought. While going into a drawer for saved seeds, I found balloons leftover from a grandchild’s birthday.
The first balloon I tried to blow up, popped. It had a weak spot. The other three inflated without issue.
My stake for the balloons was an old clothes hanger I stretched out.
I rang the doorbell (but I didn’t run away). We visited a bit from a distance. It felt good to talk to someone in person, even if I was in the yard and she was in her doorway.
Other people are reaching out to family and friends in creative ways, too. A lady I know is heading over to do a sidewalk chalk drawing for her friend’s 80th birthday. Now that’s being creative.