I know that, for the postman told me.
My Fellow Churchwarden and I had agreed to meet in the churchyard to have an autumnal clearing-up session. There is quite a long path from the gate to the church and it was bestrewn with pine needles. There are twelve lime trees along the railing beside the road and lots of suckery-type twigs grow from the bases of them and need to be cut back regularly. In addition, there were weeds growing at the edge of the path and dead lime leaves on the pavement. Also, when last we cleared the guttering, the north side of the church was still frozen hard and so it was left and now grass can be seen growing up there.
I arrived first and started raking. The Fellow joined me. “Where are you planning to put those pine needles?” “I’m taking them back home, I’ve brought my barrow.” “Ah, that’ll be why you’re raking towards the gate rather than towards the church.” “Yes, I thought of that.” “Because, if you’d been going to put them on the church rubbish heap, you’d be better going the other way.” “Yes, we are thinking As One. We are both of a practical frame of mind.”
The pine needles filled the barrow and I took it home to empty. It is a very large barrow with two wheels and is beautifully balanced so can be wheeled easily even when extremely heavy. Meanwhile, the Fellow started to cut back the limes. Upon my return, I did the weeding and raked and swept the rubbish into piles. It was about now that the postman arrived and went up to the church, where there is an office for the Parish Administrator. He was gone for some time, so I suspect he was offered coffee. On his return, he gave me my own post (a small but welcome cheque) and complimented me on my goodness.
The job has been done, most beautifully. I am glad to say that the Fellow and I are equally thorough, as well as efficient, so we swept the path and the road as well as picking up the leaves, the branches and the earth that had mysteriously appeared among the leaf mould. However, we did not get the church gutters cleared. The leaf etc clearing took three hours and we had had enough.
People walking past had little chats (which were pleasant if they did not expect you to stop for more than a few seconds). Millie said “You want to watch, do you’ll get arthuritis in your knees.” I pointed to the kneeler (a piece of cardboard) I was using to protect those useful joints. On her return, she said “You’ll ache after this.”
She is right.