Waving to the Train

We waited for the drizzle to subside before embarking on our traditional weekend walk around Spring Lake, but I was motivated by an even more urgent need. It has been awhile since I last had an Aztec Mocha and I thought OilMan would be more likely to go if I got him into the car.

There was a long queue inside when we got there and he was ready to throw in the towel and go home as soon as he saw it, but he soon realized that that was not an option. I offered to wait in the queue myself but he assumed his martyr role and vanished inside while I sat outside with Ozzie.

Although they were testing the signals and apparently the horn for the SMART train for months, there were complaints about the ear splitting horn as the train passed through every intersection and there was an article in the newspaper informing us that the engines on all the trains, which haven't even gone into service yet have to be replaced, pushing back the grand opening indefinitely.

It hasn't stopped the 'testing', the horn can still be heard for miles  and people still come out of the woodwork, especially if they have small boys in tow, to wave at the train. These boys were dressed in matching tee shirts with fire engines on them and waving enthusiastically. A small boy being carried by his mother kept his hands firmly clamped over his ears and his eyes glued on the train.

Back home and banned from the roof and the woodpeckers, (not to mention the use of a wicked looking sling shot he brought home from the home improvement store), I caught a picture of OilMan as he descended  underneath the house through an opening in our closet floor armed with rat traps. It's in the extras.In the country the battle for the house and garden in is waged on many fronts. At least this one doesn't involve ladders and sloping roofs....