You should know that by 4:45 this afternoon, I was ready to have dinner on the table and chase that with my pajamas. This whole concept of DARK getting here in the late afternoon is about to put me over the edge with HOW LONG IS THIS EVENING GOING TO BE?
I have no shame, but last night our entire family was in bed… IN BED!…. with the covers pulled up to our chins and all the lights off at 8:05. Thing 2 was out by 7:30, and Hubs and I decided that it felt close enough to midnight to our elderly selves, so we told the boy, “Listen. You’re going to bed now, too.”
That was followed with a whole lot of, “You’re kidding, right? Because, Mom! It’s only 8:00!” The teenage heart wants what the teenage heart wants, and what it wants is to stay awake all night and sleep all day. They have no concern for their aging parents, who are suffering by 7 pm these days and pacing the house, just waiting for the clock to get a tiny bit later so they can all take their teeth out and crawl into bed. The teenage heart has not been affected by this time change one bit, so it’s unaware of the grief it causes by staying up until 10:00, with the TV playing loudly in the background. I just hope that boy of ours lives close by when he’s forty-something and he sets the clocks back, so that Hubs and I will be able to hop on over to his place about 8:30 to ask who’s up for a movie marathon. And I hope he cringes and hollers, “Geez, Mom! It’s 8:30, and it’s been dark since lunchtime! We’re going to bed! Get your old self back home, and let us sleep!”
In other news, I think our leaves are finally picked up, except for the apple trees, who refuse to even turn yellow. Those apple trees of ours hang onto their leaves until the snow comes and THEN they drop them all on top of the giant drifts. Naturally, this makes a grand mess for us to deal with, come spring, because they also like to drop their rotten apples about then, too. I know that some of you are asking, “Why haven’t you picked all the apples by the time it snows? Why aren’t you canning them and making homemade pies and applesauce and fritters?” Listen. The robins use those two apple trees like a sky-rise apartment complex. They have nests next to nests next to nests (say that five times fast), because it’s so convenient, what with the easy access to the grocery store.
Namely, the apples.
This means that 99% of the green apples have been partially, if not fully, eaten by robins by the end of the season, and ain’t nobody got time to bother with picking those.
“Here. I baked you a pie with the apples my robins tasted.” See? Your neighbors don’t need that in their lives.
So yes. The apple trees are still clutching their leaves like a bath towel around themselves, and they’ve still got a firm hold on their partially-eaten apples, too, but the rest of the ground in Sherwood Forest has been cleaned up.
Three different times now.
For our friends who live in new subdivisions and have the audacity to say, “Well, we just played all weekend in this glorious fall weather, because that one tree in our yard, that’s the size of a pencil, dropped 18 leaves and the wind blew them away,” let me show you some pictures.
Also? Well, when you’re busy mowing up leaves and your allergies kick in, you may don your airsoft mask, right after you’ve taken a Claritin. It’s how we roll. Leaf-Pickin’-Up-Time is no time for a fashion statement.
I know some people call it CHILD LABOR, but Hubs and I use the friendlier term of WE ALL HELP OUT IN THIS FAMILY. It’s pretty much why we had boys; we’ve vowed to never mow our yard again. By the time the boy leaves for college, Thing 2 should be tall enough to be trained in the trade.
Those boys of ours are kind of the apple of my eye.
And that would be the kind of apple that hasn’t been pecked at by robins.
Y’all have a merry Tuesday evening.