The snow has completely put a stop to my thoughts of going out there and working on the new garden. It’s amazing. Before it was “I really need to spread some compost on the dirt so I’ll get a jump on next season.” Now it’s “Eh, it’s frozen anyway, I did it last spring, it’ll be fine, and anyway, it’s too cold to work in the yard, whatever.” Except it’s not so many words; it’s indifference, strong and pure. I suppose in the event that we got a couple of days of 50-degree weather my guilt would reawaken, but for now, it’s been put to bed like everything else in the green world, at least at my house.

We haven’t raked our leaves at all this fall. For the most part this is unnoticeable because the grass also hasn’t been mowed in too long, but the neighbors have this one gorgeous tree (copper beech?) that lost all its leaves in one night and thickly carpeted both our front lawns. It’s beautiful, but it does indicate that we’re not the most attentive homeowners.

However, I am no longer worried about it. This is partly because I consider it Eric’s job, since he’s the one in charge of the lawn, and he’s still busy with work and school. It’s also partly because we don’t seem to have a leaf rake. But mainly, Eric and I discussed it recently, on a walk around the neighborhood (our only exercise lately…I need to hook up my VCR so I can play the one exercise tape I have that I like), and he said, “It’s not like it’s going to hurt the lawn.” I said, “It isn’t? Won’t it kill the grass?”

“No.”

“Then why are we worried about it?”

“Because it looks bad?”

So who cares? It didn’t look bad, it looked beautiful…and now the snow has covered it and it no longer matters. I love snow. It’s beautiful, it’s nostalgic, and it makes me indifferent to yard chores.