For me, nothing says “end of the season” like a pair of worn out gloves.
This morning I pulled my work gloves out of the closet to continue working on the front yard. As I pulled the stiff leather and fabric over my hands both index fingers poked through the worn leather and several other fingers showed through various rips in the gloves. Seeing my flesh I thought, “Really? Did you really do enough to punch holes through another pair of gloves? Did you really earn those holes?” But then I thought about my long summer.
I worked on the front yard to get the Bungalow some grass. (There’s still more that needs to be done there.) I helped the Dentist in Waiting put in a sprinkler system. We laid sod at Brookie’s house, and the Robear’s house. I’ve moved sprinklers, made garden boxes, cleaned out the basement, stained the fence, and fixed the plumbing. I’ve mowed, and weeded, and trimmed trees.
Okay, I guess maybe my gloves have earned their holes. Just another season spent working.
So what says “End of a Season” to you?