Bizarre behaviour of road crew

My morning stroll to the bus stop was enlivened by the observation of some very odd goings-on. Picture, if you will, a busy four-lane street running north-south, crossed by a quiet minor east-west street, with push-button crosswalks north and south of the intersection. Now imagine that the two central lanes of the north-south street are coned off, as far as the larger cross-streets on either side, while moderately heavy traffic flows on the remaining lanes, and the lights for the whole four-way intersection are running on their normal cycle. Two narrow trenches have been dug and filled in, running slightly slantwise across the main road on either side of the intersection so that each crosses one of the crosswalks at a narrow angle. In the coned-off lanes, and in the whole intersection when the lights are blocking the north-south traffic, a dozen men, a small digger, a smaller roller, a tar truck, and a sign truck are fussing with the fresh asphalt in the trenches. And all this is between me and my bus stop; to cross with the light, I have to run the gauntlet of the roller, the digger, and the crew, and hop across the trench where it slices through the crosswalk. To be fair, this was a while after the peak of the morning rush, but I still have a hard time imagining why anyone thought it was a good idea.

Where I've lived meme

1964-1982 Sheffield, England, in two different suburban semi-detached houses. My mother still lives in the second one, and I visit every year for at least a couple of weeks.

1982-1994 Birmingham, England, in a hall of residence, three different rented spare rooms, and two rented houses all in the southwestern quadrant of the city (Edgbaston, Kings Norton, Bournville, Kings Norton, Kings Heath, Selly Oak). In some ways, Birmingham still says 'home', but I doubt I'll ever live there again, though I've made a couple of extended working visits in the last few years.

1995-1997 London, England, in a one-bedroom flat in Bethnal Green. London was fun for the first year or so, with its museums and shops and parks. Then I had my purse snatched on the way home from Bible Class, and the IRA started bombing again. After that, I just wanted out.

1998-present Tucson, Arizona. Strange to think that I've now lived in this two-bedroom apartment longer than I've lived anywhere since I was eleven years old.