Nov. 05, 2002 ~ Rough roads
In another entry I mentioned that virtually all our local roads are under construction, a project that is expected to last at least three more years. Roads in the nearby "town" (smallish, population approximately 5,000) and leading to the not so near "Town" (bigger, population of around 80,000, where most "town" folks must work) are both pretty rough. But I was not prepared for what I encountered last night.
It was raining, 2 and a half inches worth, but of course we can't complain. You know what's coming, right? The farmers need the rain. And it was foggy. And I can't see well at night, under the best of circumstances. It's not too bad if the road is familiar, but in this case, the road changes from day to day. One never knows what barriers will have been erected or moved, what detours lurk around each curve, or if last week's road will even be open. I usually just drive to Town once a week, and it's for an evening meeting. Two weeks ago it wasn't bad. Two lanes of the recently refurbished highway were open, while construction continued on the other side. Then they opened up the other side, and shut down the lanes we'd been traveling down. What a shock. You would expect a brand new road to be in excellent shape, wouldn't you? But within a week, it was riddled with potholes, and not just the occasional little one, I mean great BIG potholes every few feet. In some cases they were only inches apart. A newspaper story reported problems with the sealant which had allowed water to seep beneath the surface and caused the damage. They would try to patch the holes when the rain stopped, and then would try to correct the problem before they added a final surface layer. Fine. Except that it has been raining a lot, and I guess they couldn't do their repairs, and last night was a booger.
Consider this scenario... You're driving down an unlit two-lane rural highway at night, in the fog and rain, and you literally cannot see more than about twenty feet ahead of you, unless another car is approaching, and then their headlights blind you so that you can barely see to stay on the road. You certainly can't see the approaching potholes, and really, there is nowhere else to go, even if you could see them. Some of them are not so bad; others could easily cause a wreck. It was frightening. Can you imagine trying to navigate this road at highway speeds? Husband says there is another way to get from here to there, convuluted and twisted though it may be, and it's normally considered the more dangerous, less-used path. But I'm going to ask him for detailed directions, and may try that road next week. I don't think I could take another drive like last night.
Soldier Boy told Husband that they had already received their desert uniforms. Khaki-colored. Well.
Little One Eyed Blackie is trying to be friendly. Last night she was loitering on the back porch, looking in through the sliding glass doors, and I decided to feed her some canned cat food. She desperately wanted it, though she was afraid to get too close. She couldn't wait for me to finish dishing it up; she'd creep forward slowly, snatch a bite, then scoot backwards a couple of feet and eat her prize. This was repeated several times, until I finished serving the food and went back inside.
I can't help but think that she is at a major disadvantage, having just the one eye. Coyotes and bobcats are always a danger, and she seems more vulnerable than other kitties. I told Susan and Susan's receptionist about the cat. No one has reported one missing. The receptionist said something that made sense, though. She pointed out that most people around here, when their cats go missing, don't assume that they're lost, they assume that they've been killed by predators. Good point. So they wouldn't be likely to call around to try to locate them, they'd just assume the worst. Sad but true.
Blackie is assertive, and she's also very hungry. Tiny though she is, most of the other cats allow her to eat when she wants to. But Smoke, the big gray tom, has taken a dislike to her, and he was beating her up this morning, taking swipes at her face. I cringed at that, knowing her vulnerability, and made him stop the attack. But of course I can't police them constantly; they have to work it out on their own.
Star had another shot yesterday, and Susan looked at her injury. She said we were doing just what she would do (well, Duh... she's the one who taught me these things!) and she should make it just fine.
Life at the cat farm continues.
Oh, yeah, we're supposed to be raising cattle. That, too. We've started feeding them, which means a bit more work, and certainly more money.
Such is life.
All rights reserved
_______________________________