like living by an airport
Several times I've commented on the noise of aircraft overhead, which is quite loud on occasion, by stating it's like living by an airport. When I do this in front of other humans they don't seem noticably amused, but I assure you I mean it as a joke; because the fact is, we do live by an airport. But it's a small one, and it doesn't bother us most of the time. When we first moved in I used to run outside to look at the louder planes, and I'm still occasionally moved wave at some of them, but for the most part we hardly notice.
What we do notice about that airport now, though, is that it's pretty big for a small airport. It takes up a fair amount of room on the ground. We were actually always aware of that fact, but it's been brought home to us now in far more brutal fashion, because they've closed the road we like to drive on to get to Concord. Now we have to drive around the other side of the airport, and it takes a little while. I'd estimate the detour adds three miles to the route, or even four, which is noticable when it was only about two miles to start with. Leah has to go that way to get to work, so she notices it more than me.
Our dirt roads are nearing the end of their lifespan: many parts of them are now very nicely gravelled. It's just as well, since the parts that are still dirt are now tremendously rutted and also wet and muddy. It's all the fault of the rain we had today. This evening I watched a pickup truck in front of me almost disappear into a puddle; following, I took a slightly different route. The rain was good for the grass, though. I'm told those dead spots will recover, given a sufficient supply of moisture. I sure hope so: I can't stand any more nightmares!