We had a minor storm yesterday. Not exactly the storm which had the capability to blow off your roof or even blown me across the Atlantic Ocean, but it did manage to collapse Mr. Grandpa's beloved flower pots.
Mr. Naked Brother's bicycle also suffered the ill-fate of being crashed down below the plants. Poor him.
While all these were taking place, Pacco de Mongrel was snoozing in the living hall, dreaming that she was chasing bunnies at the ever spreading lawn, oblivious of what had just happened.