Summer’s Over
In the city, the birds are changing color and falling out of the trees. Out on the striped lawns, third-stringers are committing holding penalties away from the play. The fellows that fill the potholes with crumbled feta cheese, dyed black, are fixing to hang the plows on their DPW trucks in order to install another whole season’s-worth of potholes. Best head on out to whatever viaduct or weir or dam or sluice or mud puddle you’ve got handy and give it one more go. You’ll be playing pond hockey on it all soon enough.
2 thoughts on “Summer’s Over”
Sometimes, when they’re not yours, they’re not near you, and they’re on video, kids can be great. I’ve also got a pot of coffee in me and The Lad is still asleep, so that might be it, too.
Feta cheese. That explains so much.
I lived near Youngstown, Ohio for a couple of years. One day while driving, I passed a road repair truck. There was a guy strapped to a seat on the back, next to a bucket of the aforementioned feta cheese, and when the truck reached one of the gaping pits he spooned out a shovelful and tossed it in the hole, with a couple of pats for good measure.
I’m pretty sure they had a lot of job security, filling those holes week after week…
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