Raking pine straw and other things to be thankful for 

I’ve shook out my fair share of bales of pine straw. 

Shook out? Shaken? Let’s go with spread. I’ve spread out my fair share of bales of pine straw, especially at this time of year. 

With the onset of the holiday season, many people spruce up their front yards to impress the neighbors and family members they don’t like. Nothing tells your spouse’s family “I’m doing pretty good for myself these days. Who’s the loser now?” like paying someone to clean up the flower beds. For many years this subdivision vanity lined my pockets with cash just in time for Christmas. 

Of course, as a young man, while working in other people’s yards, I daydreamed about having my own house and the disposable income to pay someone to labor for me. Such is the ignorance of youth. Now that I’ve learned a thing or two about life, I miss those days, and, sometimes, that line of work, though my back may feel otherwise. Though it can’t be worse than being hunched over a keyboard at a desk in my windowless dungeon day after day.

Sweat equity means to improve the value of your property by the work of your own two hands, and I try to relive my glorious manual labor days with projects around my own home. Now instead of wishing I could afford to hire someone to do it for me, I relish a long to-do list and am thankful I’m healthy enough to tackle it and have people to call on if I need assistance (Dad, I could use some help fixing a shower when you can spare a couple of hours). Yes, this comes with occasional frustrations and sometimes a minor injury or two, even a torrent of words you can’t, or at least shouldn’t, say in church. 

Once a year I even get to shake out, or rather spread, pine straw again. There are enough pine trees around the house that I don’t have to buy straw, another thing I’m thankful for. A few minutes with the rake and I have more than enough to give my home a little holiday curb appeal, though no one can see it but my family and deer that cross my front yard each night. Living in the woods is something to be thankful for. Having a family to live in the woods with ranks high on the thankful list, way above the deer, which I could take or leave. Big rats are all they are, and I hope many Thanksgiving tables are set with venison. 

I pile my pine straw on a big tarp and drag it around the property. My back is still a little sore, and I’m thankful for that, too. A little pain is a good reminder that I’m still alive. 

Wherever you find yourself, I hope it is a home, big or small, full of family, and maybe some fresh pine straw across the front, even if just for yourself. 

Happy Thanksgiving.