Chores are calling; the couch is louder

I'm still kind of in awe of these dahlias, which refuse to stop budding even though their cold-weather cousins are sitting right there, screaming that their time in the sun is waning and it's time for them to shove over for autumnal decor. 

I don't know why the mums are so convinced they're right: They're within the shadow of monster canna lilies, which also refuse to acknowledge the change in season regardless of how many brittle, cinnamon-colored oak leaves kiss them as they drift to the ground.

I'm not complaining. I love the duality as I often find myself on the border of things.

I spent a good portion of the weekend scooping up magnolia leaves that had filled my driveway. We get a lot of enjoyment out of that tree, which technically belongs to my neighbor, Lois. It's a gorgeous canopy over our driveway and back stoop table. It's next to magical in the spring and summer.

I keep threatening to thread it with outside lights, and the Captain keeps reminding me that it's not our tree. Maybe next year. It's probably past time for outdoor dining. Jeff's very excited for fire pit weather and has been chopping wood for weeks. He was slightly annoyed that it was too warm for his birthday bourbon share  - on October 29! - to have a fire.

I'm a big believer in celebrating seasonally and a stickler about removing holiday decor when the holiday is over. Halloween is tucked away in its bin downstairs and in the shed. Fall stuff gets to stay until Thanksgiving, after which - and only after - the Christmas stuff can emerge.

In addition to leaf duty, I cleaned/purged in between putting away the Halloween stuff. It's amazing what you find in your closets when you really look. I even - gasp - have a pot roast in the crock pot and am almost caught up on inside chores. 

You can't tell I was even outside yesterday, though. New leaves have nearly re-covered the ground that for maybe 20 minutes was clear yesterday. Jeff always says we should wait for them all to fall before we pick them up. But if we did that, I'd have leaves up to my chin, and walking down the hall would be as crunchy as walking outside.

I should go back out there, but it's impossible to keep ahead of the leaves, and I'm kind of tuckered out, to tell the truth. 

My couch is currently calling more loudly than the leaves. I think I should listen to it.