Back in the days of yore, when I was a married woman, I never worried about leaves. Somehow, some way, they just disappeared year after year. The beautiful oak trees in my yard bloomed in the spring and shaded my home in the summer and the leaves magically disappeared in the fall. I guess I knew they fell. I knew that logically they fell. I just never really, really thought about it.
Those days are over. Now my aching back and the dozens of bags of leaves that line my driveway every single week are proof that the leaves don't rake or bag themselves. I've recruited my brother and even paid him, but it doesn't stop the leaves. My son has helped. Even my daughter has bagged leaves. Still they come.
Last week, my brother brought his super duper leaf blower to my house (mine died this year of course) and blew the leaves into amazingly neat piles. There is actually a method and a science to leaf blowing. Now the piles await. No one wants to bag leaves.
The point here is that this is probably the absolutely the one and only thing I miss about being married. Not having to worry about those stupid leaves. I do miss that.