The road to blogwriting is paved with good intentions but founded on a crushed rock base of ambition, distraction, uglification and derision. Or, in this case, time spent doing things like sitting in traffic on the I-405.
I have not words enough to describe the state of traffic congestion in the Seattle area. It's fiendish in a sort of steel-and-concrete-constipation way that makes me wonder why we don't hear more often of some tormented soul being led away in chains for having lept from his or her idling vehicle to pound some particularly obnoxious fellow inmate's head against the guardrail. The typical rush hour "expressway" in Seattle is a truly, deeply, unspeakable horrible thing.
The only two positive parts of last week's trip were 1) IKEA [a warehouse full of proof that the ingenious Swedes have a lock on home furnishing in the way they have figured out meatballs, pornography and skijoring], and 2) Drilled pier construction at SeaTac. BIG whomping pier, constructed using possibly the biggest vibratory hammer I've ever seen. Watching the pour, where the contractor juggled the hammer and pile, tremie tube, rebar cage and basket lift was like watching a dance performed by a 20 ton steel corps de ballet.