It seems to be my lot in life to deal with multiples.
Yesterday I popped hundreds of studs from the snow tires (don’t ask) and today I found myself de-ticking the dog and myself (again, don’t …) No forward motion, just spinning within the little vortex of crap I fondly refer to as maintenance. Placed ant baits to kill guess what and shortly thereafter removed bits of said baits from puppy --- multiples all. Picked up forty pounds of dry dog kibble strewn with reckless puppy abandon about the kitchen. Did I count the multiples?
Several days ago a contractor filled holes in my gravel driveway, adding a significant amount of what was supposed to be brown dirt with a few pebbles mixed in. Looked fine until the weekend rains washed away the slight covering of dirt, revealing many thousands of pale gray rocks, difficult to walk on, scattered around making it impossible to mow the grass along the sides, and destroying the charm of my woodland drive. Thousands of rocks certainly qualify as multiples.
How many leaves to rake? How many weeds to whack? How many blades of grass to cut? Nature craves a balance, so the multiples of my life should be positive as well as negative. They just haven’t shown up at my door yet. Meanwhile, I’m counting my rocks, picking the ticks, killing the ants and waiting.
Causes Mara Buck Supports
Kennebec Valley Humane Society, Amnesty International