A flume & Bass Lake

Today, my neighbor, the contract archeologist, took me on a tour of Prescott's recent past. The highlight, a tour of what's happened to Old 89A. However, that post not only requires a lot of pictures, PhotoShop time and simply mulling things over, it probably also will have to be done in two or three parts! However, on this same outing. I got a close look at a small feature that's puzzled me for many a year.

Shortly after one crosses Willow Creek, driving north on SR89 through the Dells, you might notice on the left a line of rusted tanks or troughs. Actually, it is the remains of a flume. When we first moved to Prescott in the early 80s, the line of the flume was intact, unlike the broken mess I photographed today.

My neighbor had prepared a report on the remains. The flume acquired water from a dam on Willow Creek near where the old Garden of the Gods was later located. Sometime around 1907 or thereabouts. The water served two purposes: an orchard on the other side of the road (SR 89) and a sometimes fishing spot, Bass Lake, located in a low flat between the flume and the rocks to the back of the pictures above and below. When water was not needed at the orchard, it was diverted to the lake.

Here, some of the timbers that held up the aqueduct. One important fact I didn't find out: the date when this waterworks was shut down.

Comic relief

Here's what I saw when I entered the MD's office this morning for a check-up. Right in front of the window where the receptionist sits. Unless something really new and terrific comes along to outclass such excellent and fitting Halloween decor, consider this is my contribution to the holiday celebration.

Of course, I had more in mind when I planned this post. Three comic strips I've clipped which were particularly poignant. Number one, above, takes me all the way back to my childhood and then to my own motherhood. Long, long ago in the far beyond, my mom made a point of declaring that all store bought witch or princess costumes only proved that the wearers (or certainly their mothers) lacked imagination. She managed to convince me, though I had a hard time convincing the dotter that a fine Cat in the Hat outfit that I made from cast off grey sweaters plus a big stovepipe hat fashioned from a kraft paper grocery bag, painted in those famous red & white stripes, beat all hell out of outfits from the store. Of course, back in those days, All Hallow's Eve had not become a big national holiday worthy of huge temporary shops dedicated to ghosts, goblins and even costumes for Rover. I wonder if anybody bothers to dream up a one-off costume these days; so many themes have already been coopted by the Halloween industry.

You've probably noted that I have a habit of treating The Google in the style of a modern oracle. I felt absolutely vindicated when I caught this bit in the Arizona Republic a couple of days ago. Repeat after me, ALL PRAISE TO THE GOOGLE.

Finally a memorial to my dear, late cat, Max, who, like Fuzzy, was likely to suddenly march up and bite, without warning or reason. I still miss Max very much; he never returned home.

Note: I realize that I have jumped copyright on these cartoons and hope that the owners will be kind enough to consider this post the equivalent of inviting my friends to see the clippings that I post on my refrigerator.

A reading matter

Interesting line-up of magazine reading over at New Frontiers. Definitely there to appeal to women. Upscale women with the mind-set that goes with shopping at New Frontiers -- Mothering ... Vegetarian ... Get Fresh. However, I'm somewhat surprised by O, which is certainly a lot more mainstream, as well as a major on the mag racks at the big supermarket chains. Since I'm more likely to read Analog or Atlantic, I don't really have an opinion here, just plain old fashioned curiosity.

Another three local critters

Oh that I should be so lucky as to see, much less photograph the critters that friend Bob espies over in Mountain Club. In this particular batch, a lone coyote (above) and grey squirrel plus a raven. I'm sure the raven was up to no good.

GrannyJ meets a nomad blogger

One of the rewards of blogging is the people you chance to meet. Strangers from your own town as well as people from the other side of the world. Over time, they become good friends; periodically, you are lucky enough to meet up in person. As happened on Friday, when Lloyd of Wandrin' showed up in Prescott to share a cuppa over at Wild Iris. He is a genuine nomad, American-style, which means his home is his RV ... has been for nearly 10 years of wandering. Time enough to collect 39 Hawaiian shirts, for example.

Did I mention that there is a crowd of RV bloggers, many of them permanent nomads? Quite unlike most Americans, according to Newsweek, which says that as recently as the 1970s as many as one in five people moved annually; by 2006, long before the current recession took hold, that number was 14 percent, the lowest rate since the census starting following movement in 1940. Since then tougher times have accelerated these trends, in large part because opportunities to sell houses and find new employment have dried up. In 2008, the total number of people changing residences was less than those who did so in 1962, when the country had 120 million fewer people. The stay-at-home trend appears particularly strong among aging boomers, who are largely eschewing Sunbelt retirement condos to stay tethered to their suburban homes—close to family, friends, clubs, churches, and familiar surroundings.

Wild Iris -- the coffee house for grown-ups -- was the perfect place to meet. The out-of-towner couldn't resist inspecting the giant credenza. We agreed that it must have originally come from an upscale yard goods or perhaps jewelry or notions store -- just look at all those shallow drawers. We also agreed that back alleys and old highway routes can be far more interesting than modern routes from here to there.

In addition to the Hawaiian shirts, my nomad friend also collects electronic toys, especially those that allow him to save space. And so I had my first hands-on experience of Amazon's Kindle ebook. It's pretty cool. Maybe, when the price comes down a couple of notches, I'll buy one. Thanks for the chat, the cuppa and the ebook introduction, Lloyd.

About Lamb's huge flag

As you motor over Bullwhacker Hill, heading into Prescott, you can't miss the giant flag that flies over the Lamb Chevrolet dealership. I especially liked these pictures taken at dusk as the Sson and I returned from our visit to the model shop down in Glendale.

The flag is a bit of an expense. As big as it is, the colors fray in the wind and need replacing once or more during the year. A good $ grand or thereabouts, so I'm told.

Here's a view of the flag during the bright daylight. It really does dominate the scene.

And, as long as I am posting flag pictures, I thought of this pair which includes the state flag -- which I just now discovered was coming apart at one of the seam lines.

$ign of the times: empty job shop

The store front looked empty to me; the Sson insisted that there was no reason to have any visible accoutrement in order to run a day labor operation. After all, we were down at the little strip mall in the Valley on a Saturday, when such a store would be closed no matter the state of the economy.

I will continue to insist that, to me, it appears that the market for itinerant labor down in the Phoenix area is one of the victims of our current economic woes. Makes sense.

The Day's Linkage: We've all heard about the ghost who haunts the Hotel Vendome -- but ghostly doings back when the county lock-up was in Prescott? Read all about it at Doin' Time. Speaking of ghostly doings, Prescott Style is promoting a Zombie Walk along Whiskey Row for Halloween. Jarart caught a terrific pic of animal and rider as a horse applied its brakes. And for those of you who blog on Blogspot, there's a very useful site, BloggerSentral with all manner of useful information.

Come on, guys, it's a Z

My neighbor first caught the new spelling. Like me, he did not think to record a picture of one of the signs with the correct -- or at least previous -- spelling, A-Z-T-E-C, referring to the indigenous people of Mexico City.

By the time I had a chance to take pictures, the mistake had been compounded. No evidence left that the little one and a half block long alley street had ever been known by a different name. Except on city maps, of course, and in the county real estate/tax records.

OK, I thought, I'll give the city roads department one more chance to get off the hook. Maybe, if I check The Google, I'll discover that there's an alternative spelling that's recently come into vogue. I found that there's Astec Models (radio-controlled racing boats) ... Advanced Science and Technology Education Charter schools ... Astec Inc, manufacturer of hot-mix asphalt ... Astec Industries who design/engineer/manufacture components for road building. No, we simply have a case of misspelling a street name, plain and simple. Maybe they'll correct it one of these days.

Woodpecker woodwork

If you look very closely, you may note a hole in the decorative wood tiles on a neighbor's house. Up toward the peak, in the darkest shade. That's why I didn't really welcome the inspection of my woodwork recently made by the cute little woodpecker below.

Here are closer views of the sort of destruction that birds can wreak. BTW, I thought maybe those small holes might contain acorns; that that doesn't appear to be the case.

The woodwork on another neighbor's house has also yielded to busy beaks. Curiously enough, that single hole is so carefully placed that I did not notice it when I first opened the picture. I guess my eyes just assumed that the hole was part of the decorative scheme. Here's a final question: I've read that acorn woodpecker colonies maintain collective nests. Do you suppose that the neat round hole is merely an entrance into a wide open attic space for several birds to develop homes? I'll have to maintain a watch.

Oops! Blogger is not loading pix

I was quite ready with pictures of recently discovered woodpecker holes in two neighbor's houses. Tried over and over to load, but Blogger simply isn't having any. I'll try again tomorrow. In the meantime, go visit OmegaMom, who was moosed again, but got a great picture of the perp.

Beaded bangles

I seldom visit the western kitsch shoppes on Whiskey Row. However, sson had a request from his dotter for a prime Row item and off we went.

I could not resist the bright colors and bold designs of cheap 3rd world beaded bracelets.

My favorites were in the basket above.

Necklaces aplenty, as well. Very different from the delicate work done by friends who are deeply into beading. Both varieties, however, are quite photogenic.

Catching up on links: Several interesting new Prescott blogs, starting with Prescott Streets, a photo chronicle of graffiti and similar street art. Scott sends local snapshots from his Blackberry to Prescottscott's Posterous, while someone associated with the master gardener program posts periodically at Yavapai Gardener. It would appear that an entire class over at Yavapai College has been challenged to enter the blog world; you'll find an opening door at Joan's EDU255. Check her blog, then the other class members on her blogroll. Freeskool offers a list of free classes for October. Finally, take a trip out of town to Santa Fe and a series of beautiful chapel pictures taken by Quilted Dog.

Oh, the irony of it all!

You may recall that three years ago, Young's Farm held its final pumpkin-picking fall festival before signing papers for its Dewey acreage with a major developer (M3). All thanks to a cockamamie statute which would trim back water rights (and resultant value) each year the land was used for agriculture, from 2006 forward.

Fast forward three years. A special event permit will allow Peter's Pumpkin Patch to open its vines to the public for picking the great orange squash, now through November 1. Location: the former site of Young's Farm in Dewey-Humboldt. Oh yes, there's also an eight-acre corn maze. And a hay ride. Sound familiar?

What's going on, you might ask. For starters, the developer and the new town city fathers of Dewey-Humboldt disagreed about plans for the big property at SR69 and SR169. Frequently. And so any major plans stalled even as the current real estate bust took hold. As a result, most of the Young's buildings are gone but nothing has replaced them.

In the meantime, caretakers have been farming the land, while the Young family is happily transplanted to a spread in water-rich Oregon, and Windmill Farms up in Chino Valley has staked out the fall festival venue as its turf. Go figure.

Picture credits: pumpkin on the ground courtesy of my next door neighbors, the wagon load from the Farmer's Market, and grocery store displays from Safeway and New Frontiers.

Checking out the mountain ride

In the beginning, there was the Pinzgauer, which has been sitting at T Lo's, awaiting a mechanical once-over. This past weekend was a holiday weekend for the US Park Service ecologist, meaning a fine time to fly west to check up on his mountain ride and thus a fine time for me to schedule the new eye while the Sson was here. Got it? As the fates would have it, I got a new eye, but little had been done to the Pinz.

However, it wouldn't hurt to visit the shop to pet the vehicle. On Monday. A holiday. Nobody home. First a quick look at the competition product.

Here's the family Pinz, still awaiting work.

A few minutes commune with the vehicle, followed by a strange expression (below) and we were off to New Frontiers. German military vehicles and natural foods -- we're nothing if not eclectic.

And a correction from the Sson who writes: Remember if you will that the Pinz (truck) is Austrian in build, and came to us via the Swiss Army. Germans - the Pinz gets used by the German border and mountain rescue folks- the deutschers use that MOG in place of
the Pinz. And yes, as one of your readers did point out, the Pinz is named after a draught horse of legendary fame from the Alps. So also is that smaller cousin-truck, the Haflinger - a smaller pony, sort of like a burro. I am not sure, but I think the Pinz horse is modest animal- tough and strong and hearty. There is also a Pinzgauer breed of cattle...!

Thank you, one and all!

Thank you, every one, for your thoughtful messages! I really appreciate your friendship. The blur is beginning to ease up, though I've had to scale up the type size on my big computer screen so that I can actually read read. Curiously enough, it's been possible to take pictures, thanks to the point-and-shoot feature of my camera, so maybe by tomorrow I may have my first report about the past few days.

Clearing the haze

GrannyJ is recuperating from cataract surgery, ably assisted and being coddled by her visiting sson. Right now, she is kvetching about the special healing eyedrops, which apparently make everything quite blurry (including the computer screen).

To tide you all over, here's a lovely story from the Onion about how the melting ice caps are revealing hundreds of previously hidden Evil Lairs!