Should you see a very angry-looking gardener with flared nostrils and blood-red pupils staggering around town this week and muttering expletives to himself, don’t be alarmed. It’s just me.
A few days ago, Dad and I drove over to Groundhog Hill to check on the storm damage where I had expected to find lots of downed sunflowers. Instead, I found something much worse and far more disturbing: Someone had weeded or mowed my pumpkin patch.
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