Foliage Wars

This week has seen a rise in physical activity if for no other reason than getting up to answer all the robo calls from political hopefuls.  (It seems an unpublished phone number is no obstacle to those who want to take advantage of the politically uneducated).  I took advantage of a feel good day to cut the grass for the last time this season and in the process blow all the fallen leaves to the wood's edge.  My wife has this thing about leaves.  I guess you might call it a pet peeve.  To me, a yard full of fallen leaves is but a sign of the season.  To her it's like having a sink full of unwashed dishes. The siege towers that gave us a measure of shade and privacy in the summer now spew forth a profusion of optical debris. And when the foliage flies, she declares war.  She will spend an entire afternoon raking leaves, bagging them up, and dragging them to the curb for removal.  She has already blown up the leaf blower we bought just 3 years ago.  Now I have been recruited to help in the fight, an army of two if you will.  By riding the mower, I can theoretically help stem the tide of the enemy.  I think for a moment about using gas prices as an excuse but the serious look in her eye tells me that I'm better served to save that for a winnable argument down the road.  So the choices before me are to buy a leaf catcher for the riding mower, detach the side guard so I can mulch, or leave things as they are and just blow the leaves back to the forest's edge.  I choose the latter.  Catching the leaves and leaving them at the curb to be hauled off seems akin to sending your child off to military school.  Mulching them up may have a nutritious effect on the yard but I'm not crazy about having small oaks sprout up everywhere.  At least by blowing them aside they're still part of the landscape.   Sure the squirrels have to dig a little more for their nuts but Oreo appreciates having a bed of leaves to do her business.   I know you think I'm stretching a bit for justification but lets not forget the PH implications.  The only thing I know for sure is: I won't frown any more when I see a youngling clean their room by pushing everything under the bed.