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.