Chores, chilly chores....

I don't do chores, really. But the garbage needed bagged and dumped into the trash can, so I knot it up and open the curtains, slide the door and walk out to the porch for getting my farm boots on - I hear the rain as soon as the door opened. No going to ride the Trusty Triumph today, but will still walk to the dock in the rain. As I get the boots on I start running into the giant spider webs, they do love building webs between the pillars and posts of the porch. They decorate whatever part of my body that hit them first, bushy eyebrows with stringing cobweb's fine filaments?

I walk off the porch into the soaked backyard and find that my muscle t-shirt leaves lots of skin for the rain to pelt, cold rain, lots of it, and still more feet to go to the can, but I made it! Open can, find it empty - we haven't added anything since Tuesday's pickup? Oh, we are so green, or is it that we live such little lives that we don't leave a large footprint of anything behind? Slamdunk! close the lid and return over the grass and greater mushrooms plots and moist mole hills. There is life under all that wetness.

I pick out two plastic shopping bags to put inside the under the sink bin, what will we do when the folks outlaw plastic shopping bags - buy plastic garbage bags? I like to think I am too cheap, and that someone else in the world is using their plastic bags two or three times before trashing them for posterity...

Don't you know the spiders are rebuilding the webs I went wildly through? Of course, I will do it again, so one has to take out the garbage. She will miss me when I am gone.