The Falling Leaves

     In the TV series "Cheers," the cast was a group of regulars at a bar, "Cheers" in Boston. Norm Peterson, one of those regulars was always greeted with a hearty, "NORM!" when ever he walked in. He was a regular. Intimately connected to Cheers. There is a lot of comfort being a regular. It is defining. It means you belong.

     In an earlier blog, I wrote about how retirement has taken away some of my identity, and I am searching for my new definition. I think I may have gotten a glimpse of what it may be today. It reminded me of the quote from Richard Bach's Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah:
       "Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they're yours."

           One of the beautiful things about Fall are the resplendent colors of the leaves on the trees. We first enjoyed it driving to a wedding in New York in early October. As the season progressed, the trees just seemed to increase their beauty with each passing day. On one of our trips to the beach, a couple of weeks ago, they were at their peak. The sun was just at the right level, the sky was just the right shade of blue to be the perfect background. The reds and yellows of the Maples were intense. The oranges of the Oaks could not be outdone.  It truly was a feast for the eyes.

      One of the not so beautiful things about Fall is that the leaves eventually do just that. Fall.  They fall on my driveway.  They fall on my lawn.  They fall in my gutters. They fall, and because they fall, somebody has to clean them up. Usually, I just sort of mulch them up and blow them around the yard and not worry too much about them, but this year we had a bumper crop, and I ended up with these mountain ranges of mulched up blown around leaves under the trees that line our driveway. Something more would have to be done this year. Drastic measures would have to be taken.

     With the advent of our retirement, Jill and  I have spent many hours out in the yard reclaiming our landscaping after many years of only cursory maintenance. This spring and summer, being especially wet, made for a lush growing season for everything.  We have pulled weeds, battled vines, pulled out shrubs, and pruned limbs, and not without some effect.  We have taken well over a thousand pounds of "yard waste" to the landfill, where they have a composting section. One part for grasses trimmings and leaves, and another for woody waste and branches.  This abundance of compostables  meant that we were making two or three trips to the landfill a week. Sometimes two trips a day. Today was one of those days.

     Last night's wind storm brought down an enormous amount of leaves. We have a Dawn Redwood that drops these little tiny leaves and is messier than any Mimosa I have ever seen. The driveway was green with Redwood droppings. The Maples were pretty much cleaned off as were the Oaks and Lindens. The Willows are still hanging in there just so they can annoy me for the next several weeks. After much raking, blowing, and sweeping,  I added to my driveside mountain ranges and decided I needed to haul them to the landfill as well.  I filled the trailer and hauled away the first three hundred pounds. Coming back, I filled another trailer-load with another two hundred twenty pounds and took this away as well.  

     When you go to the landfill, you drive onto a scale and get weighed-in.  Once the light turns green, you can drive up to the proper area and drop your load.  Then you drive back onto the scale and weigh out. As I checked out  for the second time today, and probably the tenth time this month, the nice Landfill Lady, says "You come here so much, I will probably know your township without having to ask you anymore." Translated  from Landfill Jargon to English, she was saying "BILL!" I have become a regular. At the Dump. My defining moment. I am no longer Bill Hicks, Fifth Grade Teacher, I am BILL! the Dump Guy.......... I might be okay with that.