Looks like the pagan next door is throwing a party. I keep looking for the best way to express the sentiment that some of my best friends are heathens, but it always sounds judgemental in my head.
Across the street, a couple gets out of their car. He only expresses himself with a belch. Without any real cause, I suspect him of being a douchebag. They have both packed on the pounds since moving in.
Next to me, the confirmed bachelor has a pallet of much that has been died red sitting in his driveway. For a confirmed bachelor, he is a shitty gardener. Maybe one day he will make a friend and that friend will be a good gardener. One can hope.
The sound of a steel shovel scooping gravel is coming up the street, but this damn bush is blocking my view. Of course, it’s the bush that lets me come out here in the first place. It is nice to come home and have some privacy, or privacy as the English would say. Do it with the accent. Yes, there you go. I wanted to have a front porch but for a long time the porch was a bit too front and center. It’s better now.