where's waldo?

I realize that it's been a while since I've blogged about the joy of white trash. But that's because I already noted that nature's natural beauty is apparently inadequate for the neighbors.

However.

They have finally changed it up a bit. August is, apparently, recognition of summer beach fun. There are sunglasses and flip flops and beach balls and what have you in the tree. But since this must be a family time of year, they have also put out an easel with a little sign on it. And, yes, this sign invites you to find the four pairs of flip flops and six pairs of sunglasses and . . .

Our walks of late haven't taken us down that street, but I'm afraid they just might have to until I find everything in the tree.