Goodyby, Max, see ya soon

There's my cat, packaged up in a fine cardboard carrier from the vet's. I discovered early Friday, when I had to squeeze Max into a tight schedule to get his shots, etc., that my cat carrier had gone north full of turtles. So the cat travelled to the vet's in a laundry bag, and returned in this container.

And there is my good friend, the chicken whisperer, who kindly drove us to the cat storage facility, where Max will remain for two weeks, in what is described as a cat condo.

Here's one of two entrances to the vet's...

While I was avoiding Important Matters relating to travel, I happened upon a storage disk that included pictures of Max kitten which I thought would be nice to include with this post. Max has lived in my house for seven years now -- he's almost middle-aged and, of course, has darkened in the Siamese fashion.

Yes, there was a hint of temper already evident; he's developed that talent to its fullest over the years. If he hears the word NO, he rears back and makes a particular sound that means "I'd like to bite you!"

Max was trained to the leash early and for a couple of years, he was only allowed outdoors while tethered. Being a contrary sort, he would not go walking with anyone.

A talky cat, Max figured out that if he brought me the harness, I would get him dressed to go outdoors; this continued til he got tangled one time too many. From then on, I just allowed Max the freedom to go wherever he wished. Fortunately, his turf is pretty close to the house and we don't have coyotes.

Take a good look at that tail. It was as long as his body; Sson, the biologist, figured Max came complete with a couple of extra vertebrae to produce such a fine appendage.

He has indeed grown into that tail, now weighing in at 13 pounds and barely fitting into my lap. I will miss him while I visit Sson and family in the Bayou country and then the Famous Niece from Memphis, the Other Niece from Memphis and their families. I will try to keep everybody posted.

Carnival Linkage: One of my posts is featured in Berry-Go-Round #4, the new plant and flower carnival; you might like to pay this new carnival a visit.

The new sculpture at Yavapai College

Don't know when this new sculpture first made its appearance at the entrance to Yavapai College, but it certainly wasn't there when I visited the school's sculpture garden last fall. I breakfast once a week at JBs with friends, which is why I discovered this very American Indian looking fellow; he's quite visible from Sheldon Street.

A closer look at the sculpture.

I had assumed that this was strictly metal work, but a zoom-in reveals that the center post is wooden. Can't furnish any details as to the sculptor's name or studio or location -- I tried The Google, but no dice. My fault. If I were to produce my posts during the day, instead of late evening, I could simply ring up the PR department at the college and ask.

Monday Morning: I did it! Called Yavapai College; the sculptor is Dick Marcuson, who at one time was on the art faculty. Other college/sculpture news: I'm sad to report that the collection of junkyard horses at Prescott College, which had grown to three, is now down to a single, lonely beast.

Dormers & roof details

At one time, I was bedazzled by the moderns -- Mies, le Corbosier, et al. I suspect it's a phase of growing up, because I'm long since over it. Turns out that Mies' apartment towers in Chicago had leaky windows and Corbosier's sleek apartment complexes today comprise some of those bleak and dangerous immigrant slums ringing Paris. Besides, to top it off, that's one thing the 20th century moderns did not do -- finish the tops of their buildings. Their buildings simply stopped. Not so, architects from earlier times. They paid meticulous attention to roof lines and roof details. Quite picture-worthy, as well.

The historic Bashford House on the Sharlot Hall Museum grounds offers a sampling of Victorian embellishment -- everything from stained glass windows and a beautiful sun room to several neat dormer windows. No towers, however. Besides, I'm saving my towers for another post.

Another approach to the dormer, at Park Avenue and Gurley. I especially admire the circular shingles above the window. This picture is somewhat accidental -- I was aiming for the raven at the peak of the roof.

A later version of the dormer decorating a brick bungalow on Grove Street. Isn't the window glass nicely mullioned? Nobody offers such detailing anymore, at least to middle-class home-owners. Too expensive, no doubt, as well as a bitch to keep clean.

Yet another style of dormer, this one somewhat roomier -- but marred by that air conditioner (which is probably quite necessary in our hot June/July.)

Finally, a not-quite dormer over on Park Avenue.

Linkages: Have you read about the cat cafes in Tokyo? Count on the Japanese to come up with this strange type of innovation. Wonder if such tea houses would pass muster with our health departments? Also: hie yourself immediately to Touch the Wind, with two wonderful posts of ephemera in Tucson.

Dead car, very dead

When you venture out into the Arizona countryside, you'll find every manner of abandoned item, from former towns ... or gas stations ... to the all-American icon, the sedan. We found this particular case north of the Verde; it had all the earmarks of theft for the mindless purpose of joyride.
And the equally mindless pleasure of destruction.

Note the bags of dog food that never reached the car owner's dog. Note all those pieces of glass. Safety glass, at that.

It appears that every last window plus the windshield was totalled. We were not in forensic mode, because time was short, so I can't comment further about weapons used to break the glass.

Except that evidence for one weapon is notably missing: not a single bullet hole. Not your usual Arizona back-country heap, which almost always serves as a target for every gunsel who happens to be in the neighborhood.

Linkage: Regular visitors know that I am an admirer of chain-saw sculptury and here's an fine example of the art, from the lady who posts a daily picture from Albuquerque. In this case, the subject is a lion. That is to say, an African lion, with a beautiful mane.

Flags to celebrate springtime

I suppose that if I really checked out the local True Value thoroughly, I could locate the proper hardware to mount my own flags. I like 'em; they're bright, colorful, seasonal and generally of good cheer. Thus far, I've left it to others.

Sandy's Corner on Gurley Street obviously owns an excellent collection; the flags are changed quite regularly. BTW, a question of old-timers -- what did the original occupant of this store sell? There's that hint of a Dutch windmill building on top of the roof, which is symbolic of dairy products in the USA, which, in turn, says that the primary product must have been ice cream.

Another business with a big-time collection of flags is JB's. Currently the theme is obviously Spring!

Happy bluebirds (above) & a pissed-off bluebird (below).

My neighbor has furled his dog and is now flying a stylized sun, seen through the aspen catkins. What could be more springlike?

Was tempted by the pretty swallowtail butterfly when I stopped by Tuesday Morning on Wednesday. But, again, there's that business of the necessary hardware. And the installation. And making up my mind just where to put it. Decisions, decisions, decisions. I hate to make decisions.

The trouble with pines...

As my dotter pointed out, the problem with pines is that we have not one but two seasons of needle fall. This is our month of high winds, cleaning out the Ponderosas and depositing pine needles everywhere -- even as the winds also dry out the forests, leading into our fire season. There is an accumulation of pine needles on roofs...

...and littering imitation Japanese landscapes of carefully placed, rounded river rocks ... which can only be tidied up by those awful leaf blowers. Raking won't hack it; I suppose it could be done by hand, but I don't expect that of many Prescottonians.

My ivy is almost covered by pine needles, tho I have only one big tree compared to my next door neighbors who must have 14 or 15, thus adding greatly to their property value ("in the pines" is one of those real estate code terms).

The neighbors did a bit of raking the other day; here is the result. As for me, I wonder about mulching pine needles and why, in forest speak, it's called "duff", not mulch.

Automotive bling

One day two years ago, I discovered the variety of wheel covers/wheel rims/wheels one sees on cars nowadays. And a wonderful world of bling it was. One more way to dress up one's ride to make it more stylish than the next guy's. This wasn't the sort of thing that the LH and I worried about on our muddy, dusty Subes that took us through the Arizona bush and so the entire concept was quite new to me.

What a far cry from the wire wheels that would have adorned an MG 40 years ago!

All I can say about the following series of 6-7 pictures is that they vary -- and I don't think any are the sort that continue spinning once your car is stopped.






Ah, yes, there is some attempt to achieve the wire wheel look (above, below) for your higher priced motor cars. And, of course, the price of wheel covers for your car goes up with status. One site I checked offered wheel covers ranging from $40-50 for an everyday vehicle, $178-250-ish for your BMW and some $200-350 for the Caddie (except older models, one for a mere $75).


Another consideration: bright shiny chrome instead of the brushed metal or matte look.



And you might want to consider the appearance of speed (above, below). By the way, you ought to take a look at the various wheels when cars start up or slow down, though you may get dizzy! For that matter, I achieve the same effect by rapidly scrolling down through the pictures here.



Periodically, I come across poor lost orphan wheels. A pricey matter, that. One gone and it's time to buy a complete new set.


Will all this bling disappear in the new world Michelin is introducing with its see-through air-free tires? I doubt it, sincerely. Too many people have their self-images tied up in the appearance of their rides.

Linkage: To Americans, the Family Circus is a comic strip... to Germans, a family circus is the real thing: a small, 1-ring entertainment that is largely the enterprise of a single family of many talents, according to World Photos2, with a three-post series on the subject. And you might like to take a look at the inner basin of Red Mountain, up on the plateau between Flagstaff and Williams. It's mighty interesting.