Oh NO! Again?

I knew it was too good to last. As soon as the weather turned slightly warm, the utility company sent trucks to invade our neighborhood. These trucks had large equipment and assorted other machines that I did not recognize. Five (possibly more) crews of road workers have claimed the streets that I use to get to town.

The normal orange signs are posted:

This sign is new. They are posted on every street, multiple times. There is usually a crew for trenching, and one of them serves as a flagman. They are very casual about the major disturbance they are causing.

I was at a stop sign, wanting to turn left. My signal was on, so he would know what I wanted to do. After a few minutes, he waved me on, indicating I could turn left.

As I turned the corner and saw the road’s condition, I looked over at the guy. He nodded his head yes and waved me on impatiently. I just knew that this was a mistake!
Only half the road was available due to the massive machines lined up on the left. The road that I was supposed to drive on had a trench, and to the right of that was a pile of asphalt. My little Subaru was going to get dirty and possibly stuck.

I know that I had a wincing look on my face. I had to negotiate the road by driving split. The left tires rode inside the trench. The right tires flattened piles of asphalt. My car jumped and bucked like a rodeo bull. Had I not been driving, I would have been car-sick. Why people like off-roading, I will never understand.

All this roadwork is giving me flashbacks of last summer. Plenty of trenches were dug, but they blocked the road or put metal plates over them. Those trenches were 4 feet deep. And yet, no signs warned us back then.

Last week, I was a prisoner in my own home. I woke up to the sound of asphalt being scraped up and spewed into the back of a truck. This is not the sound one expects to hear when living in the forest.

The view is taken from my front porch. The noise is muted for the reader’s sake.

The following afternoon, another crew showed up and paved over the entire cul-de-sac and partway down the road. When we built our house and moved in the Summer of 2012, the road was falling apart. Fourteen years later, it is finally smooth and new.

I am expecting an Earthquake or a tornado any day now.

TTFN

The Snowplow Stops Here

Icy flakes have been floating steadily and piling up for two days. I can stare out a window in every room of my house and watch the heavens sift powdered sugar to the earth. It’s gorgeous and hypnotizing. I don’t get many chores done when it is snowing.

Mountain House

The winds are picking up and swirling white flakes around. This morning, the measurements were made in inches, but this afternoon they switched over to feet. There is no stopping in sight. The low temperature is predicted to be 23 degrees F. The High is 30 degrees F.

The family room is finally warming up. The fire has been stoked up and blazing for hours I will stay in my snow outfit (thick leggings, turtle neck, with tee-shirt, all under my large SF 49ers sweatshirt,) because it just got warm where the fire is, all the other rooms are icy. I fear that someday, my butt will stick to the toilet seat because it freezes.

Hah! But seriously, can that really happen? Like the tongue on the metal pole? If it can, it will happen to me. Just wait. If not that particular thing, something else is bound to.

I don’t believe in luck – good or bad. The strange things that happen are only that – strange. The cake thing was heartbreaking because I wanted it perfect looking for a celebration. From pouring the batter into the pans to trying to cover the mess with frosting, it was one stupid thing after another. Bottom line: I will have to use a different image in the cookbook I’m writing.

The kitchen is not the only place strange things happen. Or anywhere in the house for that matter. I am the common denominator in every strange thing that occurs.


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