So much stuff to clean up and so little time

It's no one's fault but my own, but that still doesn't preclude me from lamenting the state of affairs that led me to spend the better part of a nice fall day outside and working rather than inside watching football on television.

What's that you say? A day outside in nice weather beats the heck out of watching the NFL any day? That's commie talk. That's the kind of thing that lets the terrorists know their campaign of fear has worked. That's …exactly what my wife said to me.

In all seriousness, however, last winter's prodigious snowfall still weighing heavily on our minds, my wife and I took to the yard yesterday afternoon with the goal of clearing everything away for winter before it is buried under ten feet of snow.

Don't get me wrong – I actually like working in the yard. It's just that this particular day was also the day we took our daughter to Quinn Farm in Ile Perrot. Quinn Farm is a great, happy, healthy fun way to spend a few hours, and the kids just love hanging around the pumpkin patch – and so do I. Just don't let anybody tell you it's an easy way to spend a few hours.

Oh, sure, it's all fun and games as the hayride driver takes you out to the apple orchard and explains the proper way to pick apples. Apparently there's more than one way to pick an apple. It's no longer grip-and-twist, but rather raise the apple to the sky and gently lift it off the branch so as not to damage the other apples on the branch.

It's very involved. After the apples, it's on to the pumpkin patch, which is where the real fun – and the real work – begins.

Remember when you were a kid and you put out a carved pumpkin on Halloween and that was it? No more, friends. I grabbed a great big one and garnered my daughter's approval, and then my wife's. Off we go, right?

Not so fast, my friend.

Then we get to hang around the patch a while longer while my wife attempts to unearth a few smaller pumpkins 'with character.'

Of course, I get to hold them all. So, after we get back on a hayride and I tote our 7,420 pounds of character-laden gourds back to the car and home, it's now time to clean the yard.

So, the lawn chairs and bicycles go away. Then the flowerboxes get cleaned out and stored, and the patio umbrella gets stowed. That's the easy part. The tough part? Figuring out what to do with my daughter's approximately 3.2 million sandbox and outdoor toys, which we have somehow compiled through purchase, re-gifting and hand-me-downs.

I mean, honestly. I found three different types of rackets in my yard -- each of which has a different function – and no matching rackets.

Then, after my wife cleared out some of the gardens, I dutifully rolled the garbage can full of dead flora down to the curb for garbage pickup.

Of course, when my wife emerged in the morning, she rolled it back to the top of the driveway and told me the organic waste pickup would be Wednesday.

So I'm wrong again – put it on the pile.