It snowed on my birthday. I don't think its ever snowed on my birth date before in the location I have been located to celebrate it. But it snowed, like a real good snow fall.
And I shoveled it.
And then it snowed again.
And again.
Today, while waiting for the sun to show itself in the cloudy sky, i realized my back yard tree (the one I hate almost with as much flaming passion as the tree in the front), looks like it needs to be on the front of a Christmas card. The trees in other people's back yards look similar. The tree looked like this when we first moved in (granted it was burried in at least two feet of snow), but I loved the tree then. It was not till I began mowing the lawn in the spring did I grow to hate the tree.
How can I hate a tree? Easy, it attacks me. I am serious. I always looked horrible after mowing the lawn due to my battle with the trees. The tree in the front always bashed me in the head with its branches as I tried to mow under it. The tree in the back yard pulled my hair, threw bugs on me, threw leaves and other things on me and scratched me numerous times. Thus, I hate the tree. Both of them actually. Then, after beating me up all summer, they lost their leaves. SLOWLY. But they had so many leaves. I was not sure where the tree in the front got so many fracking leaves. Two WEEKS. TWO FREAKING WEEKS of raking and FOUR TRASH BAGS EACH WEEK. SERIOUSLY.
WE never raked the back yard. By the time we did the first week of raking, we gave up on the back yard. Pilot Boy mowed it, but then the next week, we just stared at the pile and told Basil Bea to go have fun.
Basil refuses to use the yard for fun unless it is covered in snow. She is my snow puppy and I love her. She ran at least a mile in the yard yesterday while I was out trying to clear the deck. Round and round Basil Bea flew, snow flying everywhere. She loves snow. What this poor snow loving dog was doing in Texas is beyond me. She hated Texas. She loves snow and cold.
No comments:
Post a Comment