In addition to showing off their Muppetology, I notice that my new blogging colleagues like to post purty pictures of their bright, sunny California yards from time to time.  Here in Juneau — as close to the edge of the edge of the West that a person can get — we’re suffering through one of the worst periods of rain and generally snotty weather in recent memory.  To make matters more depressing, my family and I have a concrete retaining wall that’s in the process of being replaced, which means half our yard has been turned into a pile of mud and — wonders never cease — three-decade-old garbage.  Apparently, when the house was built in 1979, some sort of malaise was afflicting the country, and people in Juneau decided to heap their detritus up to their ears, scatter some grass seed, and call it a day.  Much of downtown Juneau was developed on toxic mine tailings anyhow, so who’s to complain about a lawn stuffed with empty jugs of wine, some Schmitz cans, Coke bottles, rags, shirts, pipes and tires?