Excuse me if I steal the iconic song made famous by Nancy Sinatra singing “These boots Were Made for Walking” and change up the words a bit to “These Shoes Weren’t Meant for Walking” because of what 9 year old bonus little and I came upon yesterday when we returned to End of the Rainbow Valley.
When I left yesterday at 7:30 am to go pick up one of my bonus granddaughters for our date day in the Miata. ( I knew she’d get a kick of riding in the Miata), there on the road was a road grader back finally to smooth the once back top road that has been flooded out like 3x since last fall.
I should have known it might not be so easy returning. I’m not complaining mind you because it’ll be nice to have the loose gravel and dirt without the holes made a bit more permanent. As I headed east on the country highway I passed 3 road repair vehicles heading west. Yep, this was serious road repair business.
Wouldn’t you know they had just started spraying the tar upon our return? Now what? I walked towards the machines blocking passage and was told it’d be a while. Well , we’re in the country , there’s no where to go hang out. Our time was also limited to do our planned art project.
I backed up a bit and parked the Miata off the road as much as possible avoiding the wet mud from our almost daily rainfall. The car’s small trunk luckily produced long leggings helpful since they could protect me from the vicious bugs in the valley. Unfortunately, there were no extra shoes and my new cute summer black patent slip on sandals would be the ones making the journey.
The game plan was to navigate the rocky shoulder incline over the bridge. The 2o minute walk home would probably take us a half hour at this rate. One of the workman who had just dumped some rock motioned for us to walk on the road. Against my better judgement I had not even stepped 10 steps as my sandals were sticking in the excess tar ooze. The tar crept up the sides of my feet. Yuckola.
We followed the trucks tread marks on the recently laid stone arriving to the entrance of the driveway for the one mile walk. When we reached the top of the first hill by the neighbors. I realized our trek was going to be miserable and I took a chance to see if the neighbor was home and could give us a ride back. Yea, she was home and I removed my tar rock laden sandals to get into the car.
Never a dull moment…
We didn’t complete the colored glass mosaic little table as we ran out of time for the thin set but at least it looks a lot better than my sandals.
You shouldn’t be surprised that my new lyrics to that old song were “These Shoes weren’t meant for walking” kept running through my head all evening…
Another End of the Rainbow Valley memory for sure…