On the third very warm day past the middle of October, My cousin Maryann and I met at her new apartment and she drove us from there to one of many charming restaurants in the Coventry area of Cleveland Heights, where we would enjoy brunch. The businesses on the main street all sported generous clumps of mums filling the curbside with autumnal colors from butter yellow, burnt orange, bright white, to deep wine red. The warmth and sunshine felt so nice, all the more so because we knew it would end with the predicted rains that were blowing our way.
Filled with quiche and coffee and with about a dozen more pictures in my camera, we went back to her new home where she showed me around and we sat to continue our visit for a little longer.
Back at my home I changed into yard work clothes as I knew I simply could not put off doing whatever I could to continue the trimming of the shrubs on the windward side of the house, which were overgrown and pressing against the house. Very carefully I edged my way along the narrow hill pulling out tall prickly weeds that came up through the bush, stuffing them into a large plastic bag, then setting it aside, and slowly working at the also prickly fronds of what looked like a monster green snowball.
Having once missed my footing and rolled down the short and not steep incline, I am forever hesitant and careful as I proceed. As I was poised with the hedge trimmer about to munch more of the greenery, I saw Alan, the neighbor two houses down as he was driving home from work, slow and call out of his car window, “Miss Rose! WHAT are you doing??” My response, “Getting ready for winter!” He then said he was coming over and before I got much further he had parked his car and climbed up and offered to take over the task. Thank you, Jesus.
He said he needed to change his shirt and get his own leather gloves and that I should not do another thing until he got back. True to his word he was back by the time I had gone into the house for a swig of water, more plastic bags, and collected the rake from the garage. He made short work of not only the biggest bush, but he went down the line and did all the others as well and then he raked the clippings down to the sidewalk where I could gather the debris into the bags and put them into the trash bin.
I asked him if he liked marigolds and he asked what that was and I said, the flowers in the pots on my patio which we passed by earlier and he said he did and his wife likes the color orange, so I gave him a Styrofoam container packed with marigold seeds he can plant in the spring.
By sunset I breathed a sigh of relief, the worst of the work was done and I took my aching body into the house. At three fifteen or so in the morning I could hear the thunder and the rain began. The indoor temperature had gone from 72 degrees to 64 and outside it had dropped from 85 to 48.