Tis the season for yard sales

Fortunately for me, when I go for walks, I usually take no money with me. Particularly fortunate when I happen across a yard or garage sale. Too much Good Stuff for me to resist!

Especially in a pleasantly shaded yard. Oh, so many good Things that I couldn't do without -- if I had the money burning a hole in my pocket.

Well, no, I didn't need fishing gear or those plaster thingies. On the other hand, I definitely could find a home to mount those brackets ... and that electric radiator at right might come in handy next winter.

No to the horse collar and the end tables. Neither needed or even wanted currently, though they looked to be in very good condition.

Ditto the leaf whacker, tho k has located what looks to be very handy electric leaf and twig chipper for making mulch.

But jumbles are what yard sales should always include...

... and kitchen gizmos and gadgets. In fact, it seems to me that these are chancy items for any smart merchant to stock. They surely are purchased only on the spur of the moment, and far too many reappear too soon in the thrift shops and at yard sales. The rational shopper is well aware of this fact. But then who's a rational shopper? Not I. My rationality extends to walking without change in my pockets.

One of the great things about yard sales is that you never know what you'll find. In this corner of the sale, a pretty candelabra, a decorative bedstead and a bird house.

Unlike many yard sales, there were also antiques. For example, I had to ask about these wooden panels. Turns out they were the real thing -- very old fashioned, possibly home made washboards. I had never seen such even in my youngest days, only the boughten kind with a corrugated metal plate. It had never occurred to me just why they were called washboards!

They were leaning against this old wooden cart. Not a plaything, either; note that the wheels are faced with iron.

Another golden oldie; asking price for the oak chair, $75.

These quilts were not from modern needles. Lovingly made long ago, they also have seen hard use...

...as this pretty pink and white coverlet shows.

The quilt collection was toppped off with a scrap that remained unfinished; consequently, it looks bright and shiny, like new.

Knots on wood

A fine long, knotty log sat to the north of the house when we moved in, a good 20+ years ago. Over the years, the log has given way to weathering. But the knots are made of sterner stuff and they abide. Don't they look like local topo maps, though?

This is one of several huge, venerable, gnarled trees over on McCormick Street near Goodwin. I find myself wondering what the wood will look like once these old guys give up or are cut down. Knottier than my garden remains, I'll bet.

In the meantime, there's a modern use for that hole in the trunk -- as a casual drop box for the day's junk mail.

My reliable wildflowers return

In Arizona you quickly learn that all the wild plants are both tough and opportunistic. Thus, as the chance of a deep frost has receded, my perennial wildflowers have sprung to life quickly, taking advantage of all that winter rain I've raved on about. My barbatus penstemon, for example, has started numerous flower stalks in the midst of all those leaves. R.E.D. and reliable, too. Is quite happy to get lots of water, though it doesn't count on it. That's unlike the tall pink Palmers penstemon, which can be drowned.

Dainty leaves like these belong to our local wild columbine, which is a canary yellow -- and prolific, growing wherever seeds fall, if there's a bit of water. So I have a lot of yellow columbines. There's a red and yellow form that grows at lower elevations and up in the high country you might come across a blue and white Rocky Mountain variety, if you are lucky.

Old reliable this four o'clock is. Once it builds that huge tuber down at the middle of the earth, it will come up every year and bloom as long as it gets water -- not the usual pattern for perennials which focus on a fast crop of seeds to keep the species going.

This picture of two new, intertwined white evening primroses was taken 3/28/08. Already both plants have buds about to open. I have to keep my fingers crossed because the javelina find the roots quite tasty.

A very happy California poppy (sort of red) and above it, the pink Palmer's penstemon, with flower stalks taking off. As I've written before, the poppies are perennial here in Prescott if they get a certain amount of water and thus the plants grow to an impressive size.

I don't know if you recall this particular Indian paint brush plant. Last year, its red bracts stayed bright -- and multiplied for much of the summer, producing a spectacular show. The picture above is from 3/28. Now look below for the picture I took yesterday! Already on its way to another showy year.

Linkages: Warren of Touch the Wind is up in Oregon and tonight showed some excellent street art, including an almost-elephant, with young on its back. And, on the subject of street art, Tombo has scored more colorful graffiti -- not the f**k or s**t kind, thank goodness; potty mouth is not only vulgar, it's a B-O-R-E! And PrescottStyle offers pictures from the McCain appearance.

Awesome oak & otherwise updating the Square

My last try at photographing the lovely oak accents at the downtown post office was a flop -- I didn't think to use the flash, of all the beginners' boo-boos. Fortunately, today I had business with the postal people, giving me a chance to redeem myself.

A brass accent in the center of that beautiful, heavy oak table in the first picture. I would imagine that those round empties once held bottles of ink. Anybody reading this remember fountain pens or brass quills?

More oak framing: here, high windows to help light the in-coming box mail sorting room.

What the ceilings of this 1930s building look like. Quite as pastel as the picture, BTW.

There was one wrong note in the post office lobby -- a scabrous looking radiator, against the marble paneling.

Out on Goodwin Street, I came across my first piece of good news; the Talking Rock real estate office is leaving the center of town for its on-site office out at Inscription Canyon. One less real estate office on the Square, though I'm sure that this location will not revert to its original use (a wonderful bookstore, The Satisfied Mind).

I couldn't resist the clock in front of the Chamber of Commerce. It reminds me of an ornate pocket watch or perhaps a Victorian lady's watch pendant.

And the second piece ofgood news -- I had thought that the Cat's Meow was gone forever when it vacated the corner of Montezuma and Gurley. Not. Seems it has taken the space left by The Betty Co., which, I guess, couldn't sell enough Bettys to make a go of it. Anyhow, the CM now has more space right on Whiskey Row and I'll be able to scrounge a fudge sample every so often. Further: it seems that splendid corner location has a new tenant, though I didn't walk down that far.

I want him! At Van Gogh's Ear. But I fear he'd cost too much to allow him to join my ants or my new horny toad (pictures later).

Further good news: though it's difficult to find practical necessities on the streets surrounding the Square, I was able to buy back-up batteries in this little goodie shop in the midst of the Row's saloons and galleries. Whew! A very useful addition, especially if you run out of smokes or want ice cream, popcorn or jalepeno brittle. They must do a very good business, as rents are surely prohibitive for a large variety store.

And, finally, the best news of all. Tombo reports that this nest on the west side of the Courthouse is occupied by a raven pair. I didn't see the birds, but I'll take his word for it.

The eyes have it

So you go through the doors...

...and there before you are infernal machines! Scary stuff.

Until you use flash, at which point, you have to admire all that cool optics -- and realize that Bausch & Lomb has always had other profit centers than their photographic lenses. I was there with the Doctors Rummel to see about replacing my right eye; that is, the lens for my right eye, where the cataract is prospering, unlike my vision. Bless the eye surgeons for the strides they have made in the past 40-50 years; my left eye is as sharp as can be, thanks to the miracles of modern science.
Nonetheless: how would you like to wake up in the middle of the night with this apparat staring down at you?

Linkages: Maria Langer, who flies choppers out of Wickenburg as well as blogging, has posted a very, very cool picture of the new Colorado River bridge going up just south of Boulder Dam. You might want to read an interesting article about water politics in a recent Courier and, if you have time, mosey over to Flickr to flick through Tombo's walking tour of the funkier side of Prescott's streets and alleys; I'd swear that if he cut out about 1/4 of the pix, his Prescott would bear a strong resemblance to Ash Fork!

The new old firehouse plaza

The new 2-story building at the Old Firehouse Plaza has been open several months, the boutiques, gallery and requisite upscale eatery are in place, though a local favorite, Biff's Bagels is gone, which is too bad. Thus far, its space remains empty...

...as are some of the courtyard tables.

However, the R.E.D. theme is hard to miss. Though my introduction seems sardonic, I actually find the new Old Firehouse Plaza quite attractive; maybe the R.E.D.-ness is one reason. But I think it is primarily the scale: small, intimate -- and cool in the summer.

An added attraction: the R.E.D. dress overlooking the scene to keep order.

The signs are suitably upscale (and R.E.D.); a discrete flame is incorporated in the otherwise plain iron work of the balconies.

About the Firehouse Plaza, a bit of history (if 15 or 20 years ago counts as history). In the 80s, the city had decommissioned the fire station building that is the foundation of the Plaza; Paul Murphy, then a hot young local restaurateur, applied for a license to operate a restaurant and brewpub in that location. The matter went before the city council, which turned Murphy down flat, arguing that a microbrewery would use too much water. It was only a handful of years later that the Prescott Brewing Company opened in Bashford Courts. No mention was made of Murphy's would-be brewery. Thus is history written, as inconvenient facts are banished into a civic black hole. Didn't even find anything at the first several pages of my consultation with The Google.