I love living by the highway...the old Highway 101...I see wild California...things that haven't been developed to death....like the old farmhouse by the highway
so I'm changing out the torn screen on my sliding balcony door....I had a choice..call the Screenmobile or buy a new door...or I could do it myself...
so I did it myself and saved a few hundred bucks..the only issue was gettiung the old spline out intact..once I did that and found it to be in good shape, the job went smoothly...I got a brand new screen!!
the next day while I was admiring my screen job, I heard the train horn blaring very deliberately....oh how I love trains!! whoo whoo...choo choo..
listening to Buck Owens...
then I saw a freight train stopped across the highway by the Salt Marsh....got out my bincocs and saw a cop car at the end of the Carp Ave exit... the train was stopped for about two hours
I spend time in this area-by the marsh- by the tracks- by the highway-by the exit- looking at the birds and looking for red foxes...but there are bums who travel this corridor..the railroad line...beards a'ruffnin' and a dirty hat pulled over cross their face...
plus we got the new wine and brewery places on Carp Ave so either a bum got hit by the train or a drunk customer from the brewery...
I don't wish harm on anyone but the beer-drunk would be my preferred victim..or maybe it was a suicide-attempt by train...nothing left to live for?? what path was he on?
doth not wisdom cry? and understanding put forth her voice? she standeth in the top of high places, by the way in the places of the paths...
I can sure see lots of things looking out my back door
1 comment:
I always admired that old farmhouse too and always wondered how the owners adjusted to being adjacent to a country lane to a full-on mordern highway to a bombastic freeway. Representative of negative aspects of growth that condo owners romanticize about but don't get.
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