We spent today (and yesterday, and last weekend) moving a mulch pile. Eighteen cubic yards worth of mulch, to be exact, and that is a heck of a lot of mulch. Ask my back. The thing about a mulch pile is that it seems to possess magical qualities. You keep taking mulch out... you put mulch around all your plants and in the lanes of your garden and under your fir tree and around the kids' swingset... and there is still more mulch. Full bucket after full bucket on the front loader of the tractor doesn't seem to make a dent.
At a certain point, you could swear that the mulch pile doesn't ever change shape, it doesn't seem to be diminishing at all, and what the heck are you going to do with all this mulch, and WHO'S IDEA WAS IT TO ORDER THIS MUCH MULCH?
Finally, finally, after tucking mulch in every nook and cranny in the place, and piling it 10 inches high in spots just to get rid of it, you can see the driveway, and you do what you have to do just to make those last little bits disappear...
You use the front loader to sweep it under the proverbial rug, and call it a day.
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