
For the past ten weeks -- or even longer -- they (whoever they are) have been waking me up each morning drilling and digging on the street outside my house. Just when I want to roll over for another 5 minute snooze, the gouging, whirring, screeching, crunching, dragging sound of heavy machinery starts up propelling me to unGodly words and unladylike oaths and forcing me out from under the cozy covers and flannel sheets that cuddle us each night. Apparently, there's some gas pipes being replaced that is causing all the fuss. But it's been a noisy, long drawn process and it's still not over. The street has many large holes in it, covered with one inch thick sheets of metal bolted down and those orange traffic cones scattered about and one of those hideous blue portable toilets smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk for the workmen. All the earth digging has kicked up lots of dust so our cars are covered in dried up clay in addition to the autumn leaves that find their way into every crack of the car. I don't know where I'm going with the blog but it's your basic whine about a public works project and its noise and inconvenience. Don't get me started on the parking places lost to trucks and piles of earth and so-called tree protector fences that aren't protecting anything. Usually, our street in the fall is pretty with orange and yellow maple leaves and the last of the roses and marigolds. This year, it's been mud and dust and drilling and digging noises for weeks and no end in sight.