The Mighty Oak

 When we purchased our current home, one of the selling features other than the massive garage, was a huge, probably ancient oak tree.  It is a gorgeous tree.  In the summer it shades a good deal of the yard.  In the autumn, when all the leaves have fallen it lends just the right spookiness to the season as you can see the purple sky through it’s gnarly branches at dusk.  In the winter, if we have snow, it looks like a Christmas card.

The tree spoke to my husband, being the Texan he is,  it represents our heritage, the strength, the longevity, the beauty.  Oaks are quite revered here in Texas.  To me, it brings out my Celtic heritage and I look at it and see all the spirituality and tradition surrounding it — the mighty oak.

BUT…..then there is the other not-so-romantic side to it.  What side is that you might ask?

The leaves.

These suckers don’t wither and dry up and crumble, drifting deep into sod and the dirt to fertilize and feed the grass to allow for the new spring growth.  

Nope.

They just sit there.  And pile up.  And get moldy.

Enter Trixie.  She hates the leaves.  Why you might ask?  Because she is a fuzzy dog.  And they stick to her.  She tries to piddle and the leaves are all stuck to her underside.  She tries to run and the the leaves, some that are still attached to little branches, trip her up — she has very short legs you know.  And then, when it is time to come in, she looked like she has been tarred and feathered like a character out of the old children’s story, Brer Rabbit.

So, what does she do?  She runs like a devil monkey all over the house throwing the leaves all over.  Literally, all over.

The vacuum cleaner won’t pick them up so I have to sweep them up — such a delight for my sore back — but that is ok because I can get up the kibble that she has thrown all over trying to separate her pate food from her kibble food (yes, I mix it hoping she will eat enough of either or both to sustain life.  How is this dog so porky?). So, at that point, the floor is clean, the dog is leaf-free, the kibble is up and now what —

Somebody has to go back outside.