Trimming the forest

Fall is approaching. There will be no end to the dead leaves that need to be cleaned off reachable branches.

Today I asked, "So do you like your living situation?" I thought, what the heck. Let's see where this goes. She said, "Yes, since they stopped beating us." "Oh?" I asked, "They were beating you before?" "Yes, they whacked us around. Denise did, and that other lady."  I pursued it a bit more and found us back in her memories of childhood and Catholic school. So probably not me after all.