Growling at graffiti

I cannot drive across our bridge without my blood boiling. Some idiot, and I use that term loosely, spray painted graffiti on it.

I wasn't going to take a photo of it because I didn't want to glorify the shite-head who did it but now I want to share with you how crappy this is. So let me get on my flip-flops and grab my camera and hustle out to take a photo. Yes, I'm still wearing my pink "Best Mom" nightgown. (It's crazy sexy. Makes Dave positively horn-swallowed, it does.) I don't have time to go get dressed. So wait a few minutes and I'll be right back.

OK? Hang on...

(Intermission)

Still there? So let me just say, I live in the boonies. A car goes by our house about once a year. OK, so maybe twice a year. My chances of going out to the car in my nightgown and flip-flops and being seen by another living human being are slim to none. Well guess what. There I was, trying to work the confounded car door clicker, when a truck went by. With some truck guy in it. I tried to put my arms casually over my flapping boobs so he wouldn't see I was braless. There was no point trying to hide hairy tree trunk legs growing out of too-short pink polka-dotted coffee-stained Best Mom nightgown. Maybe, I thought, he wouldn't notice my large pinkness beside the navy blue Jeep and the brown garage. But oh no, he waved.

Putting aside my humiliation I drove down to the bridge and snapped these photos:

It's cloudy here this morning so the grey skies don't do the "black bridge"
justice but it really is a beautiful landmark and one of the first reasons
I fell in love with this area.

Stupid mindless graffiti on the bridge. 

I love the bridge. LOVE! When we drove down this road for the first time to look at our future home, the bridge took my breath away. I remember saying to Dave, "Can you imagine driving to work every day and crossing this fantastic bridge?" I was squealing with excitement! Since then the bridge has given me many fabulous moments.

The first winter we were here we had an incredible snowstorm
and were literally snowed in. After a couple days of being
trapped at home (a wonderful magical time), the sun came
out and the plows cleared a path and Dave and I walked
down to the bridge.

Talk about beautiful. Why would anyone want to deface something like this?

Naturally we chose the bridge as a backdrop for
our wedding day photos.

So don't you just want to beat the living tar out of the stupid, worthless, useless, brainless, gutless, soulless, heartless, ball-less piece of walking talking turd that did this?

There are only a few bridges left like this in Muskoka. They're old and they're starting to decay but they're beautiful and historic and they say "Muskoka" just as much as the sparkling water of our lakes and rivers, and the dark majesty of our forests.

Meh. Soon as I saw it I wanted to get a sandblaster or some paint and get rid of it, but I was afraid someone would see me goofing around and call the coppers. So I wrote a letter to the newspaper and I called the township and apparently soon the public works department will come by with their anti-stupid-head disposal team and make the bridge pretty once more.

Speaking of pretty, I thought you should see me in my photography gear. (Yes, I'm embarrassed to be seen by a truck-guy but I'm willing to post it online. You guys are different though – you're my best buds and you couldn't care less what I look right, right? Hey guys?)