The rites of spring means chores


Let’s face it – we all lie to ourselves.

Usually they are little lies: I look great today. I don’t look fat. I am going to clean the basement this weekend. I can’t wait to start jogging.

People say we do this the most at the dawn of the new year. That isn’t true. Here, in the Midwest, we do that in the spring.

We are full of great plans and ideas, and I am no different. I have been noticing how badly I need to scrape and paint the trim on our house. I thought about it all winter. I was jacked up to get it done. Now that it is getting warm enough to get out and start the work, I am freezing up like a shy kid on prom night.

There are some annual activities that I have to do in the spring, and I have grudgingly started doing them. The first, and worst, is the annual dog poop round up. It took some time but the backyard is finally safe for humans.

Another one I dread is the clean up of the yard. We live on a corner lot and have a wooded lot that borders a busy street. That means all of the trash horrible human beings throw out of their vehicles ends up in our woods.

Every year, I grab my gloves and garbage bags and pick up as much of the junk as I can. This activity always reminds me of why humanity really doesn’t deserve such a beautiful planet – we clearly don’t care about it. I pick up all sorts of garbage. The usual suspects were there in force this year – fast food bags, booze bottles, beer cans, water bottles, cigar packages and plastic grocery bags by the handful.

There were a couple of new items this year, of course. Among them were rubber gloves (not a nice sight, I must say), disposable masks (apparently our yard is a great place to dispose of them) and empty hand sanitizer bottles.

COVID hasn’t made us any smarter, but it has led to a new variety of trash to pick up.

Yay.

I also moved my Harley and my wife’s Harley into the garage. We store them in the sunroom, but for the summer they are in the garage for easy access for rides.

Of course, being just a couple of weeks away from my next “you are very old now” birthday, I tweaked my shoulder moving her bike out. Or maybe it was when I tried to scratch my back. Either way, it is a new pain to add to the growing list.

The screens are going into the windows soon. We have a lot of windows and carrying the windows down to the basement and the screens up takes a lot of effort. Honestly, I would rather spend my time at the patio table having a beer. But it must be done – or so says my wife.

Soon it will be time to change the oil on the lawn mower and get it ready for the season. All of the tree limbs that have come down over the winter will need to be picked up. The grill will need a new propane tank and I will have to get some sun on my legs before the shorts come out. OK, the shorts have already come out and the glare off of my white legs has caused two crashes. I’m not proud of it.

So the rites of spring are, well, springing. Next up? The beautiful warmth of summer.

Bring it on.

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