the other day cold bacon looked down at the usual place for the box that is for receiving mail. instead of the box, what he saw was a large orange pumpkin. the box for the mail was now behind the pumpkin. it is with no particular feeling either way on the matter that i report all of this to you, but as this is what happened, i thought it best to simply give you the facts and let you have your own reaction, whatever it may be. let me recap. there is a large pumpkin next to the brown, wooden door, or i should say in between the two brown wooden doors, each belonging to one set of tenants, or tenant, as is the case for cold bacon because there is only one of him and several of them. all of this is happening on the old red porch. once again, it is behind the pumpkin where one would find a small wooden box, which may or may not have anything in it; i don't really care, as it would more likely be cold bacon's mail and not mine anyway. surely i have mentioned cold bacon's neighbors are in possession of a small daughter who is at least five and probably six, not that i much care as this is the daughter of cold bacon's neighbors and not my own neighbor's daughter, about whose age i care deeply. one more time, just to be clear. large pumpkin. small wooden box. daughter. recent hurricaine. much debris.