These boots were made for walking

One of the things I do a lot is walk.  It started four years ago as a cheap fitness activity, an attempt to lose weight, and a New Year’s resolution.  Amazingly, all three have been successes.  This is probably because I really do enjoy getting out and about and checking out my neighbourhood.

I have a number of different routes, all of which take me between 30 and 45 minutes to complete.  One is simply down to the shopping centre and all around its parking lot, then home (I don’t do that one too much any more).  Another is a big loop that involves going past a couple of retirement trailer parks – oops, I mean Modular Home Developments Geared To Active Seniors.  That was the walk I did last night.

Hooked up to my trusty little new best friend, my iPod, singing along to my Elton John mix (hopefully mostly in my head rather than aloud), the scenery was quite fascinating.

I saw:  

1)  One of my fave Chinese restaurants closed down “due to unforeseen circumstances”, according to the   hand-lettered sign on the door.  Fire?  Death in the family?  Health inspector? 

2)  A missing sidewalk.  It was there three days ago, I know it was, but now there’s just gravel and an           obstacle course of equipment for walkers to navigate.  I thought the city was just widening the road, not     eliminating the sidewalk.

3)   An abandoned truck canopy, seemingly carefully placed on the side of the street behind one of the       trailer parks – I mean Modular Home Developments.  I can only imagine somebody trying to park their           car there late one night and ramming into the thing.  Why would anyone leave their truck canopy in               such a spot?  Didn’t they need it any more?

4)  What appears to be a burned-out TR-7 sports car.  What possible reason would there be to decorate     one’s driveway with such an object and then have to drive around it every day to get in or out?  I                   understand about hobby cars (the Ex had one, which lived in the garage, and PG currently has one,             which lives in his warehouse), but I don’t understand about keeping a piece of junk in the way for all to       see.  Mind you, the house looks well on its way to becoming a piece of junk too.  I’m seeing a pattern.

5)  A hand-written notice on a telephone poll begging for the return of someone’s beloved dog who was       apparently picked up by two girls.  A dognapping?  In my neighbourhood?  Maybe I can contact those       girls to come by my place and pick up my neighbour’s yappy Jack Russell cross too.  And the loud kid       down the street.

6)  No dead things this time.


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