It's really windy here in Alameda. Like, so windy that the black weed-stopping plastic I had buried under three inches of mulch has been pulled out and whipped around, so I went out to remove it before it became a piece of litter.
Oh, there is nothing like a face full of bark mulch. There's nothing in the world like wind-born splinters on every available surface of your body. Don't ever let anybody tell you otherwise.
