I had every intention to blog my walk on Friday, but I went to a funeral and came home beat. Yes, another funeral and another cancer victim. I guess I’m getting to that age, though I don’t remember my mom going to so many funerals.
In other news, one of our neighbors gave up on yard work two years ago. His weeds are almost as tall as his house; I am not exaggerating. The entire street calls code enforcement every few months, he removes everything, and then the process starts all over again. I try to give him the benefit of the doubt and remember that I don’t know what is going on in his life, but most of the time I think mean thoughts and glare as I drive by in hopes my fiery stare will burn the weeds to the ground like some form of suburban deforestation.
The other neighbors have beautiful xeriscapes, the kind birds like to hang out in after a long day in the air. I tried to get a couple of pictures of the hawk hanging out in the birdbath, but he took off as I approached. I’m sure he was off to the veritable rodent buffet living in the weeds next door.