I spent most of my waking time this Saturday doing my annual “clean the leaves from my front yard” ritual. I still have the back and side to go, but the front yard is the biggest chunk of the work, since all the blowing’s uphill, and the trees I have to work around are so inconveniently placed. Those other two sections will take significantly less time; I can knock each out in a weekday afternoon, rather than killing most of my Saturday.

Anyone who knows me is aware that I absolutely hate, hate, hate this particular entry on my homeowner’s duty roster. It’s a big pain in the ass to navigate my yard with a leaf blower tethered by a hundred feet of orange extension cord (my lot is too irregular small to warrant purchasing a fancy lawn tractor with bagging attachments; besides, I’d have nowhere to store it); kicking up dust, mold, and all sorts of other nature-based particulate matter with which irritate my already allergen-ridden sinus cavities. That, and the physical task of blowing leaves seems to overwork obscure muscle groups in my forearms that no other movement I’ve ever encountered seems to involve. Ow.

The cold this year (it was one of those clear, sunny days in the low 30s) was a mixed blessing; for some reason, the mold count was definitely lower, but despite being bundled up in a wool hat, noise-cancelling headphones, a turtleneck and a full beard, my face is still windburnt.

Still, however, it’s done. Yay.

This is my number one on the list of lessons/trade-offs in home ownership; yes, the trees are pretty in spring and summer, and the canopy of leaves does seem to provide some benefit in heating and cooling of the structure, but by any other measure, having a bunch of giant oak trees around the property generally sucks. My next house, when I get around to procuring one, is going to include several score fewer trees in the package. In fact, with this experience fresh in my mind right now, I wouldn’t be opposed to having the entire lot be a concrete parking lot.

Otherwise, I made a really great pot of vegetable soup, which tempered my feelings somewhat, reminding me that the planet’s flora isn’t all bad.

Also, Sunday night, I finally got around to popping the used copy of The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion we bought a couple of weeks back (yes, I’m several years behind on my video game activities, which is just the way I like it) into the PS3, mostly to see if it worked. I enjoyed the two hours or so I played, though a swords-and-sorcery first-person game takes a little getting used to, given my preferences toward 3rd-person perspective JRPGs, but after a few minutes, it starts to feel very natural.

The visuals are absolutely beautiful, edging toward photorealism with regard to structures and scenery. People still don’t manage to ford the Uncanny Valley, but this is made up for by the fact that I was almost able to create an in-game avatar that looks almost exactly like me; except for the facial hair (though I’d almost be willing to bet he’ll start to grow some after another couple of days of game-time).

As cool as most of this stuff is, the vast majority of my game time past the tutorial stage involved walking several only slightly compressed miles between towns (It’s very pretty, but my guy really needs a horse). I haven’t made any serious blunders just yet, though I half expect to delete this save and start over in another couple of hours, flush with more virtual lessons learned bumbling through several more fights with sewer rats and fetch-quests.