Rockin' to the Dead Leaves

Rocking out. (And yes, I'm quite the fashionista these days.)

In the words of a good friend:  Don’t Judge.

Today I spent four hours using the worst (and best) invention for the average homeowner: The Gas-Powered Leaf Blower. I fully acknowledge that the gawd-awful droning sound of that gawd-awful (and God-sent) machine is pure torture to anyone out enjoying the woods, nature and all that green stuff like clean air and peace and quiet.

But when a forest’s worth of leaves are blanketing your homestead …

And snakes love them leaves …

And there are no neighbors around for at least a mile…

Catherine Preus, aka African Catherine, please forgive me.

I drowned out the noise by wearing our circa 1980s big fat radio headphones/ear protection. And because NPR wasn’t coming in very clearly, I tuned in to a 1980s flashback “rock” radio station at the top of the dial.  Sweet REO Speedwagon! And Kansas. And Doobie Brothers.

OMG, who knew leaf “raking” could be so much fun? And who knew I still knew that many words to “Carry On.” (“Carry on my wayward son, Don’t you cry now more…” Buh buh buh buh buh BUH BUH BUH BUH!)

I’m not proud, but damn did I have a good time. I danced all day. And that blower tube makes a really good air guitar.

I know, not the Nan you are used to. I'm full of surprises. And sometimes, it feels so good to be bad.