Lipstick On Pigs, and No More Free Kittens, These Aren't a Few of My Favorite Things

I was shocked to pick up the paper click on the local newspaper website this morning, and see what special version of NOT-HEAVEN that Even Steven has in store for me. A local community is planning to revamp a major thoroughfare. It's not so NOT-HEAVENISH as it could have been, since I am currently RETIRED, and don't have to drive that way to work every morning. But still, it's my direct route to the main post office and credit union. I suppose I can adapt. I know several alternate routes. Which I will have to use for A YEAR to avoid construction on approximately 1.5 miles of roadway.

Anyhoo...a first-year city administrator (wonder if it will be his last) has a vision. To show people who travel that roadway what kind of place this town is, and what kind of people live there. Never mind that 90% of those people traveling it are local residents, and already know that stuff. The plan includes decorative lighting, street-side parking (which is already available), and curbed sidewalks (the uncurbed kind are already in place). He wants the roadway "to represent the city as a great place to live and raise a family." C'mon now! It either is, or it isn't. A road can't lie, or promote such a concept. It's just a road.

Anyhoo...since "There’s really no sense to have the decorative lighting and try to get the image that we’re doing with that project when you have dozens and dozens of utility poles right in the way," all the utilities are being moved. The electric, phone, water, and sewer are being relocated to the alleyways. Apparently, 30 residents are on board for this, having agreed to give up portions of their property for right-of-way. Oh, and having their electricity off between a couple hours and a whole day, with some of them needing their weatherheads "just turned around," or their entire electric panels updated. No mention of who's paying.

Here's the thing. They can put all the lipstick they want on that pig, but the same houses are still going to be there. Just today, I saw two men picking up shingles in the front yard from a porch roof that had collapsed. These are older homes, many of them rentals, very close to the street to begin with. Some might lose their entire front yard for right-of-way. Of course Val is anti-progress, so her opinion might be biased

But that's not even what I set out to tell you about! Sorry you got cheated into reading that part. Kind of like these homeowners are getting cheated into upgrading their electricity and utilities. No, what I started to tell you about was a sight I beheld when I was looking at the two men loading up that partially-collapsed porch.

Strolling down the sidewalk, insouciant as you please, was a lady in cut-off shorts and a tank top. Not old, not young. Okay. Young to you and me. Maybe early thirties. She came from the direction of the old mom-and-pop grocery store that's been converted into a tax office with an apartment upstairs. Next to the house that had a FREE KITTENS sign on the chain-link fence for a couple of years straight.

I admit that I did a double-take. Not because of The Walker's great beauty, or physical assets. But because of her arms. The were both held out in front, bent at the elbow. As if carrying a platter of hors d'oeuvres.

GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY! That was no platter of hors d'oeuvres!

Draped across The Walker's forearms were TWO LIVE SNAKES! They were about as thick as a good rope. Thicker than a jump rope and Jethro Bodine's belt, but thinner than a climbing rope attached to the ceiling of a gymnasium. The snakes were patterned, in dark orange and brown colors. Not bright orange like a coral snake. More subdued. And not striped. More of a mottled or diamond pattern, I think. I'm not sure. I only got two looks at them, and they were writhing at the time, each one hanging about a foot or more over each forearm.

I'm not sure what was going on here. Was The Walker merely taking her snakes for a walk in the noonday sun? Or was she taking them to show the porch-roof picker-uppers? Maybe she had FOUND them, and was walking to the police station to turn them in.

You never know what you're going to see in cities adjacent to Backroads. I wonder if there will be a new ordinance against walking your snakes, once that major thoroughfare is revamped...