Inside, Outside.

Outside:

Pulled the half-frozen impatiens out, cut the mums way back, dug out the flowerbed, put 3 1/2 flats of pansies in across the front. The highschool kids across the street fronted at each other in their giant jeans and badass minivans. And here's me, Joe Driveway, glaring at them. But I remember what fifteen looks like. It looks like that. Good luck to them. It's hard enough.

Inside:

Dinner with friends — white lasagna and a pear salad and overlong conversation about real estate values (my fault). Then back outside to sit by a fire pit and bitch and whine at each other about where the logs ought to be to burn better or brighter. Cold enough for the fire. Plain and good and simple.

Was I wanting for this at fifteen? I hope so, sort of.

Warmer this week, then rain by the weekend. Rain's always a week off.