seal in the driveway
Sep. 29th, 2010 03:32 pmNo, not the kind of seal that goes arf, arf, but the kind that's even blacker and wetter.
You are blacker, love, and you're wetter, love,
And the road smells much of tar,
So begone, you saucy paver lad,
So I may park my car.
Last month the city repaved our street, and now it's the turn of our driveway, thanks not to the city but to our management. We live at the back dead-end of a townhouse complex, and for two days have been sort of almost trapped in the house by a paving crew who are re-sealing the entire interior pavement. We had to move our cars out onto the street (we could leave them in our own personal driveways, which are concrete, but we wouldn't be able to move them), and have been strictly instructed not to walk on the seal while it's still wet, not that I would remotely want to. There are no sidewalks inside the complex, and walking out would involve carefully picking one's way around the edge of the drive, going almost on tiptoes along the curb and, in some places, a lip of concrete next to the pavement, avoiding various enthusiastic shrubs and bushes along the way, until you can get to the grass verge which takes you out the side of the complex.
I did take Pandora, in her box (cat carrier kind), out that way yesterday on her regular vet visit - she meowed continuously, as she does in the car - but I hope they'll be done by tomorrow when the AT&T technician is finally scheduled to visit. Originally they were scheduled to start on Monday and be done on Wednesday, but they didn't start until Tuesday because Monday was too hot. Too hot? Was Tuesday any better? Apparently.
Vague memories of the time in our previous house when the landlords decided to rip out and re-do the entire exterior while we were still living there, and the workers took out the entire driveway and lawn and then didn't come back the next day because it was raining heavily, leaving us literally surrounded by a sea of mud.
You are blacker, love, and you're wetter, love,
And the road smells much of tar,
So begone, you saucy paver lad,
So I may park my car.
Last month the city repaved our street, and now it's the turn of our driveway, thanks not to the city but to our management. We live at the back dead-end of a townhouse complex, and for two days have been sort of almost trapped in the house by a paving crew who are re-sealing the entire interior pavement. We had to move our cars out onto the street (we could leave them in our own personal driveways, which are concrete, but we wouldn't be able to move them), and have been strictly instructed not to walk on the seal while it's still wet, not that I would remotely want to. There are no sidewalks inside the complex, and walking out would involve carefully picking one's way around the edge of the drive, going almost on tiptoes along the curb and, in some places, a lip of concrete next to the pavement, avoiding various enthusiastic shrubs and bushes along the way, until you can get to the grass verge which takes you out the side of the complex.
I did take Pandora, in her box (cat carrier kind), out that way yesterday on her regular vet visit - she meowed continuously, as she does in the car - but I hope they'll be done by tomorrow when the AT&T technician is finally scheduled to visit. Originally they were scheduled to start on Monday and be done on Wednesday, but they didn't start until Tuesday because Monday was too hot. Too hot? Was Tuesday any better? Apparently.
Vague memories of the time in our previous house when the landlords decided to rip out and re-do the entire exterior while we were still living there, and the workers took out the entire driveway and lawn and then didn't come back the next day because it was raining heavily, leaving us literally surrounded by a sea of mud.