The Mighty Walnut Tree Gets Its Revenge.

A leaf and nothing but a leaf.

As scrumptious as all those walnuts are that is if one bothers to pick them up off the ground, the revenge of their leaves leaves nothing to be desired. Good gracious me... how many can there be?

My mind had it all mapped out. After breakfast I took my rake ( no, not Bob ) and a big green gardening bag and drove to my rendezvous with a blanket of leaves. I had an inkling that the neighbours over there would have come knocking pretty soon. Any old wind tends to deposit many a leave in their gardens. They are so precise as it is and use scissors instead of a lawnmower.

Last year one of them demanded that Bob takes the leaves off the garage roof, a roof not safe to crawl on. No no, we drew the line and chose to drive the other way when we saw him. Luckily for us he has a personalized number plate and is easy to avoid.

I was sure that today would perhaps take two or three bag-runs. Stuff the bag to the rim and carry it about 100 meters to the compost heap in the back of the property. By the fifth time I took off my jacket and promised myself to stop after the eighth.

Who doesn't like to see another person labouring away? Various villagers drove past and they looked pretty happy that it wasn't them having to scrap those stubborn leaves about. One guy drove past a few times because he's never seen me work so hard! Jeez, what a workout. Eight trips to the compost heap turned into 14 and that's were I downed tools. I was finished after two hours of solid power gardening. Truth be told, a few more bags could easily be filled but enough is enough.

Gardening is serious business indeed. Even now, I can feel every muscle complaining and begging me not to go back too soon to do rest of the walnut leaves. Country living, what a blast...

Biggi