At My Front Door

The Eldorados 1955


I arrived home to this monstrosity today. It seems that my local authority no longer trusts me to place the (washed and sparkling) empty jar of peanut butter that constitues my average monthly glass recycling in the bottle bank by myself and I have to place it herein. Or maybe it's their new way to check who is imbibing their government approved booze allotment. Sigh.

At least it matches the pretty tulips.