This is the house I grew up in. Back when I lived there, it was white, with a big red brick planter wrapping around the porch and on the corner by garage. If you’ve noticed the major frown line in my brow, well, it’s not a frown line. It’s a scar I got from tumbling off that porch and cracking my head open on a rock when I was very young.
I’d share one to illustrate, but I don’t know one handy just now.
There was a chain link fence around the front yard, and I don’r remember the tree on the mailbox side, but there was a big one on the right side, and we definitely didn’t have 372 gnomes scattered around the front.
But horses for courses, as they say.
I sometimes like to drive by and remember where I came from. It’s good to remember, and it’s better to remember and give thanks to Allah for His mercy, for allowing me to live on this long, to see the things I’ve seen and do the things I’ve done. Astaghfirullah.