Road construction started on our access road on Monday. So far it looks like they’ve just demolished the retaining wall marking the property line between our development and city property. Our house has felt a fair amount of shaking and vibrating from it. I can’t imagine what it’s like for the houses that are right next to it. ECH. I’ve had several instances of questioning my sanity and whether or not the awful jarring feeling in my head is from construction machinery or if I’m about to pass out. It’s the machinery. But it’s still not fun.
Twelve days ago we had a blizzard with record snowfall.
Today it was eighty-nine degrees.
Saturday is going to be thirty to forty degrees colder and they’re predicting possible snow on Sunday.
Because Minnesota.
It’s still supposed to be in the eighties tomorrow and Friday before it drops for the weekend. I’m trying to focus on the forecasted hoodie weather for next week.
People have been acting like they’ve never seen snow beyond February like they haven’t been living in Minnesota all their lives.
And I will be equally obnoxious by invoking April 30th, 1984.
And yes. Those are boobs. Because Dad.
Also Mom spelled April wrong.
Looking at this picture just boggles at how much that backyard has changed. These days you can’t even see that white house way in the background because of all of the trees that have filled in. The red house hadn’t yet landscaped the hill in their backyard and still had that sandbox they eventually off-loaded onto us. This was before my parents planted lilac bushes all the way across the back property line. (That have since been removed.) That cottonwood tree came down in the straight-line winds storm of May 1998 when we lost power for a week. (A good dozen cottonwoods were taken out in that storm, one of which also took down the power lines with it.) My parents were years out from building a shed in that back corner, and putting in a fence to protect the grandkids from the neighbor’s dangerous dogs. (One of which scratched the paint on my car, clawing at the door to get at me when I was trying to leave for work one morning.)
Not to mention all the other changes with the house and yard in the last decade alone, but that’s a whole other story.
Oof.
—
 |
Dying Breed The Killers |