Pigs on parade

The grapevine has it that Babe's price has been cut in half; I have to admit that when I heard the news, I did not immediately rush down Gurley to Batterman's to check it out. Perhaps if I were planning a BBQ restaurant, this aluminum piggy might find a home.

Batterman's porker undoubtedly originated at a BBQ operation somewhere; it does seem to be a tradition that there be one or more pigs on display in such places. For instance, the popular restaurant where the Famous Niece from Memphis and her husband treated me. The outdoors animal is a favorite spot for sitting portraits, such as the FNFM (below).

Among the many collectibles inside were the painting of the pig family at their plates, as well as a very murderous looking boar's head.

This chef figure was in a private home. I mentioned plans for my pig post to friend Patty Monday night after an evening of Scrabble. She immediately produced her collection for me to photograph. One from Mexico, painted in the talavera style sat high on a cabinet (below).

There were also a pig with wings and another smothered in roses and piglets. It's difficult to pick my favorite of the lot, but the sow below reminds me of our amazement when we first moved to Florida long, long ago. Back then, almost all black top highways were only 2-lane affairs; the countryside was open range, which meant that domestic animals were free to mingle with the vehicles. More than once traffic was halted on a road while a mother and her many little ones made a leisurely crossing, one by one.

PS: I'm reassured that, thus far, neither the Three Little Pigs, Miss Piggy nor Winnie the Pooh's Piglet has succumbed to overwrought PC-ism as has occured in the UK.

Everything antlers

You may recall that young king-to-be Arthur wore a rack of antlers the night that he was fated to bed his half-sister Morgause as part of a pagan rite. So Marion Zimmer Bradley spins the tale in The Mists of Avalon. So, yes, that answers the question; there is something magic about deer and elk and antelope: their antlers. People just can't resist collecting them, if they have the chance.

If you can't find an antler or two in the woods (which I did), almost every local curio or collectibles shop can fill the bill. Example: the 3 Sisters Consignment Shop out SR89 (above, below).

Occasionally, people go overboard in their use of antlers (above); I like the fanciful quasi-antique framing below. All that's missing is the display within.

This mounted set was in an PV antiquery -- I've seen much better. For instance, the stock at the remarkable Dead Things store down in Yarnell (below) includes a wall of antlers.

I was sorta creeped out in Batterman's back room, where these mounted deer busts looked to the sky for delivery from their fate. At least, that's how I interpreted it.

Not being a hunter, I prefer these antler light fixtures. In my mental picture, the necessary antlers are gathered, hit or miss, by a person strolling the woods. Also at Batterman's, which is a goldmine for the quirky collector. That is, if you can't get down to Yarnell to Dead Things.

Henry Would Be Annoyed...

...because this particular Model-T is definitely not any color as long as it is black! No way. It's as R.E.D. as those doors over at Oddball Observations. And it lives in the area. It was coming up the road as I went out for a late afternoon walk. A good walk, by the way. My SQ (Serendipity Quotient) was way high.

This red Model-T is just one of the old vehicles (in running or rusted condition) that neighbor Bernie has collected. Unfortunately, there's not enough room at his house down the street for them or his restoration work; they'll all be gone one of these days.

In the meantime, I can play at driving a red car. With classy whitewall tires. Incidentally, I got an explanation of why the wheels are so unlike the wood spoke originals -- it has to do with road worthiness and competing with the modern auto on modern highways. Lower center of gravity equals greater safety; modern tires hug the pavement much better.

Another item collected by Bernie -- an old radio with working tubes that he bought at the monthly antique auction over on 6th Street. Complete to a tuning eye. Remember those?

Decor....

...and an old gasoline pump. (There's another of these over at the Goodwin Street Pharmacy, BTW.)

But I said that this was a Serendipitous Day, kalloo, kallay. Not only did I catch this robin with my telephoto lens but I happened upon a chainsaw garden gnome in process -- under wraps, unfortunately. But, to think that a chainsaw sculptor lives in my own neighborhood. Wow! Don't worry, I'll have pix one of these days.

Robins of Note: I just got a look at Helen's robins over at Albuquerque Daily Photo. I've got a lot of catching up to do to equal her pictures. Take a look.

Hilltop Hide-Aways Hide Interesting Stuff

I'm fascinated by local hilltops. As you can imagine, hillsides, hilltops and ridge tops with, as the real estate salespeople call them, "forever views" command top dollar. Each year, new houses built on hillsides in my neighborhood are pricier and pricier.

But there's an interesting fact about hilltops hereabouts: the streets dead end. And property at these street ends appears to have been sold long before today's upscale market took off.

Probably because it was cheaper once upon a time. Hilltops were further from the water, the sewer and the other civilized amenities. Great places, it turns out, to gather up, store and hide Big Outdoor Collectibles, like beat-up muscle cars or heavy, rusty machinery (above.) After all, folks visiting the expensive people down the street aren't going to drive up to the very top just to sniff at such down-market activities.

This rusty mailbox, lying on its side, is at the entrance to one lovely property that abuts another very exclusive built-up site. What did I see here?

Well, there was the old tractor. Looks pretty good from a distance, but hardly a Beemer, Mercedes or Hummer.

But get closer and it's obviously a collectible that hasn't seen loving treatment as yet.

Peak around the corner a little further -- and talk about your "forever views!" What a place to hide your collection. I'd be happy to pitch a tent there any time.

PS: A charming local lady who sits with my mother at meals gave me further background on some of these not-so-upscale spots in old, otherwise exclusive established neighborhoods. It seems that for many, many years, the city fathers, in time-honored western tradition, eschewed zoning ordinances. In short, it was "anything goes." Times have changed, but old-timers are protected by grandfather clauses... and I, for one, don't mind the occasional spot of non-conformity.