I don't know about you, but I've enjoyed the summer road construction season.

Like most people, I have my set routes. From home to work, I take the same path every day. From work to the coffee stand, the route never varies. I play golf at several courses around Spokane, and you can track my route to each of those by the ruts I've worn in the road.

This summer, however, road construction has affected many of my favorite shortcuts, and I've had to take the long way around. It's been entertaining.

My detours have taken me through a neighborhood where a brother and sister have been capitalizing on the increased traffic by operating a lemonade stand. Since the weather turned hot, they've been making a killing at fifty cents a cup. By the end of the summer, they might have enough cash to pay for all of next year's roadwork.

I've been keeping my eye on another home where the owners like to leave things for sale on their front lawn. Over the past few weeks they have unloaded a kitchen table, a very 80s-looking entertainment center, and a tub and shower enclosure. If a rolling tool chest shows up there, I'm all over it.

And then there is a young couple, early twenties, that sits at the same bus stop at the same time every morning. They normally sit so close together that, from a distance, it's hard to tell if it's one person or two. I've seen them engage in displays of affection that would never make the cut in a Disney movie, and other times they simply hold hands. Until the past few days, they seemed to be very much in love. But recently, I can tell, they haven't been getting along. They now sit far enough apart that, betwen them, I can make out four digits of the phone number printed on the bus bench. And there has been no hand-holding to bridge that widening gap. I don't know what happened between them, but I hope they can work it out. But I may never know.

As the road projects wrap up, I'm getting back to my normal routes. I know I will miss my new friends. My curiosity is almost enough to make me continue taking the long way, but the price of gasoline easily trumps my nosy nature.

Every once in a while, though, I think I'll swing by the perpetual yard sale---just in case one of those tool chests appears.