As some of you may know, the Big Dig is just down the street from me.
I was informed of this by the Eldest, who, pointing to a big hole where a building used to be, told us firmly that this was the Big Dig. Well, it certainly was big, and it was definitely dug. The hole, which used to be a convent (sold by the church after the courts made it apologize), has been a source of fascination for us. What is going to be done with the site? (the Papa) Will it be ugly? (the Mama) Will kids live there? (the Eldest) Will they eat sesame seeds? (the Eldest) Ba? (the Toddles) Will anyone mind that I'm salvaging and hauling away bits of bluestone? (the Mama)
As you can see, we are full of curiosity. To channel some of this fence-peering in more savory ways, we have constructed our own work site: Imperfect City.
It happened one night, when I was desperate to make dinner and entertaining a rare spark of inventiveness. I took blue painter's tape, and laid it down in a number of random-ish patterns. I then invited the boys to run cars along the 'streets,' to build buildings, do a little urban design.
Here's how it went:
The hospital will go here...the post office is here - Mum, write down that this is the post office - the school will go here...the ocean is here, in this part...and this (pointing to the biggest section) is the parking lot.
Hon, you don't have so many people in your city that you need parking lots. They can park in their driveways, or on the street. What about a nice park?
Eyes fixed firmly on the car bin. Nope, we need a really big parking lot.
Some time later....
Okay, so think about it this way: you want about three kinds of space - living space, working space, and playing space. I plant some trees, to demonstrate.
thinks it over. No, I need a really, really big parking lot.
Well, see name of city. What else did I expect?
On the subject of really fabulous imperfection, here is this gem, courtesy of joy.