Another Saturday, gone; it was a busy day as Saturdays during the school year seem to be. Beth had been busy all week organizing and preparing for wreath pickup and delivery for William’s Boy Scout troop and Saturday morning was wreath day. She is the wreath coordinator for the troop and managed the sale and delivery; last year she earned the nickname, ‘Awretha,’ and it stuck, so did the job. Next week, the troop will be selling their wreaths and garlands outdoors at a local grocery store and in front of our church. Hopefully, we will be able to sell enough wreaths to operate the troop for another year. Running a Boy Scout troop, with all of its expenses, takes more than the boy’s dues. In return for the boys getting out and selling wreaths they get to keep a percentage which can be used to pay for their scouting expenses: dues, campouts, and summer camp.
Beth had helped unload the delivery trucks earlier in the week and planned for the scouts to pick-up their pre-ordered wreaths so scouts could deliver them to their customers. She took William with her early Saturday morning and asked that Olivia and I follow an hour later to pick-up William’s order and bring it home so he could deliver to his customers Saturday afternoon and Sunday. Olivia and I showed up late, just in time to see William finishing loading a trailer with his order and getting ready to take it home. I stayed and helped other scouts when they came for their pickup. I talked with John, the Scoutmaster, and the other adults and just enjoyed being outside. It was sunny in the upper fifties; not bad weather for November 20th, especially when the day began with frosty grass and rooftops. By noon, all of the scouts had picked up their wreaths or made arrangements to pick them up later and we locked the trailers and we all headed home.
I picked up another scout’s order and delivered to his house before I came home. William had set the truck up for delivery with seats down and sheets in the back to keep the pine needles from getting all over the back of the truck and I backed it into the driveway. I got started working in the yard and Beth, William, Olivia, and Ivy got to work delivering to all of William’s customers. Last year he was a close second in pre-order sales and this year sold the most by a large margin.
It turned out to be a perfect day to finish picking up the final bit of leaves around the yard. This would be the final weekend for leaves as last weekend I collected eight bags and most of the trees had dropped their leaves except a single lonely maple in the backyard that was waiting for just the right moment to drop its leaves. The leaves were all down and scattered about the backyard. Our goal was for me to finish working in the yard and the others to stop delivering wreaths by five for two reasons: by then, it would be dark and the Wheaton-Warrenville Tigers would be playing a semi-final playoff game and a local restaurant was advertising they had television coverage.
I was finished in the yard by 4:30 and was inside before the wreath deliverers returned home. I remembered last year when the Tigers played an away playoff game, I was able to listen to the game over the internet and I started searching for a live broadcast of the game. Beth came home and chided me for not being ready to go out and she and William headed upstairs to cleanup. I soon found a live broadcast and we scrapped our plans to leave and ordered a pizza instead. It was great watching the game over the internet and Beth and I enjoyed our pizza while the Tigers rolled up their 13th victory of the season and made a date for the state finals next weekend.
After the game, I took Ivy for a walk and noticed the full moon. The moon shone brightly through the light cloud cover and cast moon shadows in front of us as we walked. There were still plenty of leaves left along the sidewalk and we crunched our way around the neighborhood. Ivy did her business and I was able to think about the day. I had started cleaning my desk, William had his wreaths, the yard was mostly cleaned up – I still had the front to mow a final time, and I had watched a good high school football game. It had been a great day, but tomorrow will possibly be a million and six times better. So, I had better jump up, jump in, and seize the day (or rather night) and finish this and get to bed. Sundays during the school year tend to be much like Saturday and seem to disappear quickly as well. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, even one bag of leaves at a time.