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>I imagine this is how a farmer feels when they have to put down their favorite milk cow, something you’ve taken care of for a long time and has taken care of you for a long time. But the only thing you can do to help it now is one last betrayal. Ultimately replaceable.
>I shovel the snow off it and use it one last time but just shy of satisfaction so I don’t tire myself out before the task to come.
>Since my trampoline is my only source of exercise my legs are surprisingly muscular but my upper body strength is lacking. I slide the protective mat out of the way exposing the cold metal springs and begin the arduous process of yanking on them one by one, there’s around a hundred of them and it’s an exhausting process. It’s dangerous too, and I’ve cut the shit out of my hands doing it in the past. Whatever machine pinches off the metal wire when manufacturing them sometimes leaves a little tag that gets stuck on the frame of the trampoline when you try to remove it. Sometimes my weak grip or a false sense of security will get the better of you before the tension suddenly releases taking a big chunk of your skin with it, or in this case my glove. One time it almost got my wrist.
>Once the last spring from the base is out and thrown into the bucket, I hoist myself up to reach the ones holding up the net being careful not to slip on the icy frame. Then when that’s done, I drag the massive, and spitting definition of cumbersome, net into the basement where I just have to hope mice don’t eat it for the next 4 months.
