The grain elevators are busy. So are trucks, railroad cars, and many of the townspeople.
It's harvest. And given the absence of hail for the past few weeks, the takings ought to be good.
But in the meantime the nonstop cadre of farm trucks making their trips to and from the grain elevators makes for some interesting gridlock. Such as the one I witnessed when I made my afternoon constitutional to the grocery store adjacent to the building in which I work.
18-wheelers, made to haul grain, about six or seven deep, waiting their turn at the elevator. The smell of diesel smoke was nearly intoxicating. Regular cars either snaking through or just avoiding the intersection altogether.
Keeps things interesting in this small town.
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Life's not all bad. Case in point--the new Thin Mint Blizzard. (Yes, real Thin Mints, courtesy of the Girl Scouts.)
Odds are good that I have one before this coming weekend is over.
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