It’s a strangely warm, extremely windy day, with t-storms threatening. There are practically whitecaps on the literally black lagoon i.e the abandoned swimming pool that the neighbors never used. Soon the weed jungle will conceal it. I mean, who does that? Hillbillies. I keep expecting to see bodies floating in it. An old white rag is hanging from a tall weed, evidently indicating surrender to the elements.
Hopefully the strong winds will blow all the leaves into the corner of the yard, so I won’t have to rake. My favorite kind of leaf blower. Not that it would matter if I didn’t.
It’s that sort of a day. I can let my inner Eeyore out.