While I was gone, Bob invited 30 people for dinner this Friday. It’s his annual lobsterfest, where everyone buys their own lobster. Bob grills corn, and I do salad, appetizer and dessert. It’s an easy party, so my thoughts turn to mulch. This is no surprise to Bob: he said he figured I’d want a truckload before the party, and maybe I could pick it up on Wednesday.
The bulk mulch is up on a mesa. They have piles of medium bark, shredded aspen and large pine chips, and it’s the medium pine bark that’s easy on your hands. I park far away enough for the Bobcat guy to maneuver.
He has a new 2-yard bucket that he likes a lot. He takes the load and slips it into the truck bed diagonally from the right
and from the left. I compliment him on his new bucket, and he says, Yep, she’s a beauty.
And I drove home at 30 mph.
I asked Sam when would be a good time for him to help me with the mulch, thinking maybe in 15 minutes.
He said, How about never? Would that work?
We settled on late afternoon. But the truth is that, at this moment, never sounds good to me too.
You mean you gotta get all that mulch spread by your Friday lobster-fest party? Yikes!