A few weeks ago, the county was doing some road work near us. They must have had a lot of dump trucks to stage, as they were parked all over the place in the early morning when I drove to work. One of them decided to park in our pasture driveway. Not a big deal, but he backed way down off the road, and off of the gravel apron. Into the Mukilteo Muck. Kirk wondered aloud, “why did he back so far in? He’s probably going to get stuck!” Maybe he was trying to make room for a second truck to park in front of him, I don’t know.
Well, sure enough, he did get stuck. Another truck had to pull him out. Leaving some really big ruts behind. I waited a week or so, curious to see if the driver would return to clean up the mess he made, or fess up to his supervisor and have someone sent out to do it. Nope. So, I sent a quick email to the county, asking them to send someone to come and tidy it up. Within minutes, I got a reply saying a ticket had been logged.
I envisioned that a laborer with a shovel would come out in a few days and do twenty minutes of hand work. Also nope. Within a few hours, this is what appeared: