The nice type are pleasant to be around, sometimes bake cookies, and genuinely lovable.
The other kind are real witches ( or was that the B-word?). The not-so-nice type stare out their windows, tell little children to keep out of the flowerbeds, and tattle to authorities.
Lately we have seen evidence of the B(w)itched variety both near our pond levee and also near our garage at the Beltway apartment. They both have common characteristics-- staring, telling, and tattling.
Hm! Wonder what that "certain" age is?
Is it getting ready to greet me in about one month's time?
Nee hoor! (Nope!)