Rakes and Snakes

Saturday started off normal enough - I went for a 6-mile run and then taught a spinning class. As I pulled into my driveway, I noticed that there were a ton of leaves piled up around the two tree clusters that flank the driveway. Knowing that we're possibly listing our house on the market and that two flower beds would be nice for curb appeal, I decided on the spur of the moment that something should be done about the leaf situation. In typical Cyn fashion, I thought, "How long can it possibly take to rake them up? One hour, two?? Piece of cake." Fortunately, Parker and the Irishman were at a St. Patrick's Day function with some friends, so there was no one to intercept me or to question my judgment.

So, I left my stuff just inside the garage and, since I was already sweaty from working out, I got right to work on raking the leaves. And I raked. And I raked some more. Once I had about 6 huge leaf piles, I started bagging them up just to switch up the routine. Before I knew it, I had filled ten 30-gallon bags and I had barely made a dent in the leaves. This was not a good sign.

Not one to be deterred, I attacked those stupid leaves with a vengeance. I kept trying to go faster and faster thinking that if I paused, I would realize that noon was probably not the best time of the day to start this project. However, start it I did and I would be damned if I didn't finish it. As an aside, if scientists ever wanted to study stubbornness, my DNA would be a good starting point. Ok, back to the story.

In the meantime, Parker and the Irishman had returned from a St. Patty's day parade and they had both settled down for a nap. In the air conditioned house. In soft beds. With well-rested muscles. Not that I was bitter or anything since the entire leaf-raking thing was of my own doing, but I was starting to get dehydrated and fatigued, so I finally went inside to get some water.

When I looked at the clock, it was 3pm. I had been raking and bagging leaves for three straight hours after I had already worked out for two hours that morning. Oy! This was not going to be good...but, a job still needed to be finished, so I grabbed some water and headed back outside.

I got about one more hour in when my resolve broke. Mind you, it had nothing to do with my screaming arms and everything to do with the snake that I had disturbed in the center of the tree cluster. It appears that this snake took offense to my raking, so he (she?) coiled back and started attacking my rake. It took me a second to figure out if I was just hallucinating, but once I decided that the little pink mouth really was open and ready to strike, I threw down the rake and sprinted inside.

Now, there are quite a few things that I don't mind dealing with on my own, but attacking snakes is not one of them. I was not about to be the poster child for "Florida is the Venomous Snake Capital of the World" campaign. So, I did what any self-respecting woman would do...I sent my husband out to finish the job. There was no way that one little possibly-venomous snake was going to prevent the raking from getting done. I just wasn't going to be the one to do it.

And so it went that the Irishman went out and spent the next two hours finishing the raking and bagging of the leaves (without an appearance from the snake). I took a hot shower to soothe my tired muscles and Parker ran around the house singing, "Sssssss goes the snake. The snake goes Sssssssss."

P.S. Coming up this week, I'll be posting a recipe for Pasta Fagioli as well as sharing a tutorial on how to make an adorable desert that will make you look like a baking rock star.