She helped me with my suitcase

The sky is clear and a color the folks at Binny & Smith call “sky blue” for a reason. The trees are a deep green and so is the grass. It is too early for the neighborhood to echo with the sound of lawnmowers and trimmers, but it will not be long, my house included. Life in the ‘burbs moves apace. 

The maple is dropping seed pod helicopters and the wife is starting her annual rant that we should “cut down that tree”. Her hatred is unreasonable. I made the mistake of telling her a few years ago if the helicopters bothered her so much she should go rake them up. She asked why the neighbors’ yards are not littered with “those brown things”? I pointed out the neighbors don’t have maple trees in their front yard. 

It is weird how two important women in my life had the same hatred for maple seed pods - my grandmother and my wife. Grandma used to make me pick up every helicopter before I could mow. The wife wants me to, but I won’t do it. 

We need to drag out the power washer and clean away the winter filth from the porch and patio. Maybe we can get it in before some expected afternoon pop-up thundershowers. 

I’m heading off to see Big Customer tomorrow. That means a few days of wearing dress clothes and real shoes. The button down shirt and Dockers are fine. The shoes mean I will be in pretty good pain and likely limping around by noon. So it goes. I’m going to have to break down and have another surgery, I guess. I really, really do not want to. It is 50/50 at this point which I dread more, the every day pain or the six to eight weeks immobilized (with no guarantees that will fix the problem). Maybe in the fall. 

Have a great Sunday.