My friend burned - I roasted to tears.
He lives in the private sector. Periodically, the gardens are trying to break out the "pioneers" of an indefinite age with the remains of child chariots - they wrap everything in a row, from paper to scarf, but only a glass would be enough. I fly out of the house, he says, from what I hear, dogs have chased someone in the garden. Under the fence female shoe size forty three, a branch of fabric on the fence. The garden is full, nothing is lost. Respect for dogs, +1 and all that. I need to feed, right? :-) And 2 bits of aluminum under the hood so late...