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Showing posts from August, 2015

Potholes - literal and metaphoric

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Potholes around the district are almost too many to count. The complaints are many and fierce. Tyres, suspensions, wheel rims are all suffering. People's pockets. As you can see, the hole above has been there a while, with grass growing in it. 
The local council has only 23k ratepayers, more than 1.5 million day visitors per year. Car movements in the millions. Hundreds of kilometres of road. Old-timers remind the rest of us of the days when all the roads were gravel, cheaper to fix and cheaper on wildlife by way of slower traffic.

The pothole is a metaphor for the hole in my back, neatly sewn it is true - the excision of a suspect skin spot - the excuse I have for not performing any shoulder exercises, possibly 'overdoing' it by posting something on a blog, reading #Saturday Scenes for the first time in weeks, and various other no-no activities that can only be performed while sitting in a chair and not being too active.