The street: Miller Valley Road near Fry's. I had a short walk before buying a few groceries. How do you like those parking area stakes, painted Indian-style with snakes. Ogg's Hogan, of course. (For Prescott visitors, a dealer in Native American rugs, arts and crafts.)
Fine winterish tree sight -- shadows on a wall. But a not-so-fine sight in the next batch of trees: the ubiquitous white plastic bag, flying as high and bright as a surrender flag. Why don't they make these bags and the fast food detritus in a tan color? Have you noticed that corrogated boxes in that kraft paper finish don't show up nearly as much by the side of the highway?
??? This is the only sign outside this business building. I guess those are hands for Papa, Mama and Baby Bear, maybe? As for the structure below, the shop specializes in all types of flooring, but always catches my eye with the painted sunflowers. Too bad about the dangling weather stripping, tho Christmas tinsel could hang from it.
This vacant lot sits next to one of the last homes on what was once a tree-lined residential street; the sign must have been weathering for a long time. I suspect owners have had drivers making turn-arounds in their lot for an equally long time.
A little further on and around the corner I spotted this sign of the times -- a reminder of America's rotten real estate market. Wonder just who these vultures are.
Next, into Fry's parking lot to find still more vanity license plates.
And into Fry's where I found still more suns such as those needed to cheer the dotter up in dark, dismal Alaska.
And, as a final note, a new role for the grocery store, being all things to all people -- just like Amazon today. I was so caught up in all the photo ops that I completely forgot the sharp cheddar cheese, despite my list.
The street: Miller Valley Road near Fry's. I had a short walk before buying a few groceries. How do you like those parking area stakes, painted Indian-style with snakes. Ogg's Hogan, of course. (For Prescott visitors, a dealer in Native American rugs, arts and crafts.)
Fine winterish tree sight -- shadows on a wall. But a not-so-fine sight in the next batch of trees: the ubiquitous white plastic bag, flying as high and bright as a surrender flag. Why don't they make these bags and the fast food detritus in a tan color? Have you noticed that corrogated boxes in that kraft paper finish don't show up nearly as much by the side of the highway?
??? This is the only sign outside this business building. I guess those are hands for Papa, Mama and Baby Bear, maybe? As for the structure below, the shop specializes in all types of flooring, but always catches my eye with the painted sunflowers. Too bad about the dangling weather stripping, tho Christmas tinsel could hang from it.
This vacant lot sits next to one of the last homes on what was once a tree-lined residential street; the sign must have been weathering for a long time. I suspect owners have had drivers making turn-arounds in their lot for an equally long time.
A little further on and around the corner I spotted this sign of the times -- a reminder of America's rotten real estate market. Wonder just who these vultures are.
Next, into Fry's parking lot to find still more vanity license plates.
And into Fry's where I found still more suns such as those needed to cheer the dotter up in dark, dismal Alaska.
And, as a final note, a new role for the grocery store, being all things to all people -- just like Amazon today. I was so caught up in all the photo ops that I completely forgot the sharp cheddar cheese, despite my list.
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