The almond tree outside my room has been chopped down, and the stump has been wrenched from the earth. I know it was a threat to the house during a hurricane, and yet I miss it horribly.
So many memories...
I used to climb and hang out in its sturdy branches, enjoy it's delicious shade, until I'd remember that I was outnumbered by bugs and lizards. Then I'd get the hell outa there.
But that tree meant something to me, dammit. Serious sentimental value there.
I swear my bedroom is 5 degrees hotter since my tree was abducted. I look out my window and now there's nothing.
Great, now I'm really gonna have to make an effort to draw the curtains when I'm dressing.

C.O.T.

Recently I've been wondering why it is that it's slightly more acceptable for children to see violent death scenes in movies, than it is to see sex scenes.
Kind of an indicator of our attitudes to sex, huh?