Before I go into a tirade of how much I dread getting rid of the falling leaves, I have to first admit that I love them for a time. Maine's autumn leaves are glorious and I love seeing them, kicking them and hearing them crunch as I walk. I just wish that I didn't need to get rid of them.

Let's face it, not cleaning up your fall leaves makes for an ugly, labor intensive spring of trying to rake wet, sopping leaves. You have to choose your method. I've tried them all, except for burning.

Fall raking calluses are a badge of Mainer honor and I've often compared them with coworkers. They are unusually satisfying to pick at but come with the cost of aching arms, and I won't even get into how skeeved out I am by picking up piles of leaves. I have dogs, 'nuff said.

I've had mediocre luck with my mulching mower, you've really got to stay on top of it. Maybe I'm not great at that.

Blowing leaves is the most magical yard work that I have ever encountered, until my neighbor and his leaf blower moved :(.

Our former neighbor and bestie Mr. Todd had a military grade, possibly experimental leaf blower. It was life changing. It was a gas powered backpack leaf blower that could transform an enormous yard in under an hour. Mr. Todd moved and our yard looks appalling. I haven't raked it. I text him often hoping he will gift us with a leaf blowing. I'm pretty sure there is such a thing as leaf related depression.

I'm too nervous to burn my leaves and the guilt is getting to me as I ignore them. Is it terrible to wish for snow to cover my unraked leaves?! Something tells me yes.

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