I’m not sure how much longer I can continue taking pictures during my morning walk. I love my neighborhood and there are so many pretty, interesting, fun, odd, or unusual things. I’ve not taken pictures of all the great stuff yet. But I’m running into technical difficulties.

I need to get out the door at an early hour. Not for any reason other than I know myself, always a risky and difficult proposition. But I do know that by a certain time, I need to be out the door or the allure of the world at my fingertips will be too great and I will be doomed.

If I don’t scoot out the door before logging on to my e-mail, all will be lost. I will start with e-mail, move over to Facebook or MWC and then I will start looking at Fark and maybe scoot over to Google news and then it will be too late to walk. I can spend hours clicking through the superhighway and never even notice.

So, rather than lose myself in the Internet, I have to get out the door. But the planet isn’t helping. The weather has been wonderful. This morning I was actually chilly when I began my walk, thinking perhaps I should upgrade my outfit to at least some sleeves. By the end of my walk, I was happy with my choice of dress, wife-beater shirt and thin flannel Capri length pants, and I’ve finally started wearing real sports shoes since my feet were hurting.

I had a lovely walk and managed to see many interesting things. I noticed what is termed a tree lawn where I grew up and is really just a strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street here. In one neighborhood or area, the grass space was about ten inches wide. I made a mental note to never walk this path on garbage day because there is no really good place to put the cans awaiting pick up. The tree lawn, or whatever it is called here, is too small, but the sanitation workers (or whatever the current euphemist for ‘garbage men’ is) wouldn’t want them on the other side of the sidewalk. So I’m guessing the cans are left either partially or completely blocking the walkway.

Tree lawns, sewers, and the fact there is no cure for curiosity.

The tree lawn in my own portion (and most of the rest of the Plantation) are just as wide as the base of the garbage cans. I’m sure this isn’t by design, it just happened. But this is the first time I noticed the discrepancy.

I even took pictures of the phenomenon. But … and this is why my picture taking may be close to being done, it wasn’t really light enough to take a decent picture until I was well on my way. The streetlights which work automatically, depending on the light, didn’t turn off until I was nearly two-thirds done with my walk. There really isn’t enough light to take a decent far away picture. And it is only going to get worse. We are in the time of year when the days get shorter and the nights get longer. I have no idea when the clocks change again, but it probably won’t help me.

What I have noticed during my walks is all the other bus stops. I pass by several other groups of waiting children and their parents. Some have fewer kids waiting, some have up to about twice as many kids waiting. Most have more parents out there with the kids. What no other bus stop has is kids running helter skelter and screaming – ear piercing shrieking. That only happens at the bus stop in my driveway.

It is annoying enough to hear, but each day, they are waiting in my driveway as I come back from my walk. They are chasing each other, they are screaming, they are banging on the garage door, they are acting like little hellions. And I can’t even get to my house for all the kids. They don’t stop to let me walk up my driveway, they make me stop to keep from being run into or jump out of the way to avoid a collision.

So, the fireman is the only parent who is there consistently. Today there were two other fathers out there, but I went over to the guy who is there every day. I told him that I saw many bus stops and at every other bus stop, the kids were not running wild or screaming. They stood and waiting and talked and laughed and enjoyed themselves without causing a ruckus.

I had managed to keep my heart rate within its recommended rate the whole time I walked. I really hate confrontation, but I also really hate worrying about some brat getting hurt in my driveway and then suing me. They don’t even belong in my driveway, but by not kicking them out, I’ve probably made myself liable. I have no idea what the law says.

But as I talked to the poor father who isn’t really any more responsible for the pack of unsupervised brats as I am, my heart monitor started beeping and carrying on because my heart rate had skyrocketed. I have no idea if HE knew what the beeping was, but I did – and it made me even more uncomfortable.

What I really need is my best niece Hecker and her two pit bulls to hold court in my driveway each morning for a week or so, until they all learned to congregate elsewhere.

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