Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Drawing in the wet concrete

There’s been a lot of road construction going on where my house is located. The city is working on the sewer pipes so they’re digging up our yards and the street. As different sections of the pipe are fixed the crew pours concrete to patch the street then they put up barriers so the stuff can cure without being run over by cars.

I’ve watched the road crew work their way down my street for 2 weeks. When they finally got in front of my house I did what any good Texas girl would do. I made a big pitcher of iced tea and took it out to the guys. It was hot and they looked thirsty so I tried to help out. They didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Spanish but we managed to communicate enough for them to drink the entire pitcher of tea. Way to go Suzy Homemaker!


At the end of the day after the concrete was poured and the workers had left I was overcome with the desire to make my mark for the entire world to see. I HAD to draw in that wet concrete! The kidlets got into the spirit and we all created masterpieces. We were having a great time and then Manchild arrived home. Being a lawman, he proceeded to tell us that what we were doing was a crime. We could be prosecuted for defacing public property! Whoops!



We grilled Mr. Lawman with the prospects of actually being charged or arrested or tossed into the Klink for drawing priceless works of art in wet concrete that the city owned. After we thought we were fairly safe from spending the rest of our lives in jail we spent a few minutes admiring our handiwork then we went inside the house for dinner. Later, we went back outside to look at our work again only to discover that the road crew had returned and they had “erased” all of our artwork! And then they placed a tarp over the concrete to protect it from the elements so we couldn’t draw in it again.

I guess we could have removed the tarp and drawn some more but then again, I’m sure it was obvious that we were the ones who had drawn in the concrete and the road crew didn’t ring the doorbell and scold us so maybe we dodged a bullet on that one. I could be writing my blog from the big house in solitary confinement or something. Luckily, I’m on my comfy couch with a dog who has it’s nose buried in my side, sipping a cold beer. That’s much better than jail. I guess I’ll just have to create my artwork somewhere else. Like on the side of a bus or a building or an airplane.

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