|Worshiping the beer gods?|
My secret garden is kind of an interesting social experiment now. It's like a little "un-controlled" park. More have been coming to enjoy this place lately, and I'm happy for that. Unfortunately, people are freaking messy. There are beer cans and trash everywhere now. This is odd to me; people come because the garden is a pretty place to hang out, but people leave their trash everywhere and make it NOT a pretty place anymore. Oh well, at least I know that if I'm ever homeless and destitute, I can come here for a steady supply of aluminum cans to cash in.
I'd give anything to hear the thought processes that led up to the decorated tree. "...damn, Bubba-John, this place looks like shit. We oughtta try fixin' it up a little or somethin'." "...yeah, that dead tree over there depresses the hell outta me ... it needs some beer-corations."