GDMF

So take that as you will. It could certainly mean “Good Day, my friends.” Or not. But I will tell you this: This phrase pops into my head every single time I walk/run/drive away from my house. And here’s why: I AM SURROUNDED BY CONSTRUCTION and CANNOT GET AWAY FROM IT!

It was okay at first. The middle school behind our house is undergoing renovations — major ones — and I was prepared. (Or so I thought.) I knew it would be bad. And we resigned ourselves to summer with a closed up house, pumping the AC and sucking up the subsequent bill. Since it has been as hot as what I’d imagine hell being, that hasn’t been too much of a hardship. But then, the ground starts to shake, the windows rattle and there is a monster earth-mover of some ilk both rumbling down the street in front of my house — going as fast as one of those things can go — AND one rumbling behind my house...all at the same time. We complained to our school construction liaison who said, “Yea. You should call the cops if they’re speeding down your street.” Sure thing.

And yet — even all this I could take. I focus on the fact that Miss 6:7 will be a student there one day (unless we pack it all in and move to a deserted island before then). So I can do it. But then the power company decided that they had to trim every tree along the back of the property. And CDOT decided to replace the asphalt on every major street surrounding our neighborhood. And the power company also decided to throw in a new station or something on the other outlet street. And the parks and rec department decided to go ahead and replace all of the sidewalks ringing the park — focusing their efforts on the one side where you could actually get away from the noise. And then someone destroyed the main cables and supporting box for all of the phone lines for Qwest — one street over. And that doesn’t even include the fact that every other house is being popped/scraped/reglued/having the basement converted to the top floor...or whatever else. That they’re taking the yard and making it the living room and vice versa. It seems everyone has something that needs to be done. Nor does it include the fact that there doesn’t appear to be a street in all of Boulder that isn’t down to one lane with a flag person manning it. (The demand for these poor, hot souls who must stand in the sun all day while drivers glare at them, but be at an all time high.)

So, needless to say, I’ve had it. I can’t get to a meeting without a 15 or more minute delay. I can’t go for a run without nearly being run over by a backhoe — twice. And I certainly can’t expect to hear “Fitty” singing Candy Shop or “Luda” belting Stand Up over the rat-a-tat-tat of the jackhammer digging someone a brand new moat. (They’re becoming quite popular in south Boulder —as a great bear/mountain lion deterrent.)

I’m just bitter about the remodeling jobs. So you can ignore me. It’s all sour grapes because I still have my circa 1968 harvest brown vintage electric stove. And my fabulous dark brown hollow-core particle board doors (that coordinate so beautifully with the stove, doncha know.) That isn’t even mentioning the retro cabinets that we lovingly re-painted cream about 10 years ago. Now they’re baaaaaccckkk. And returning to brown in strategic places. And to think some people pay extra for that look...all you have to do is paint ‘em and let ‘em go for a decade and VOILA!

And that, folks, would be my rant for the week.

TODAY’S THEME SONG: Somewhere Only We Know. Keane. I felt the earth beneath my feet. Sat by the river and it made me complete.