Planters, Ranch-Style

One of the great things about having the younger generation around for a while is All the Things That Get Done. Way back in early May, a friend passed along two large black tubs, which she recommended using for plants. I had a place for them, but it needed levelling. Enter the niece, this month. Area levelled!

A black tub, with drainage holes added by the niece, is ready for its new home. (FYI -- these sturdy planters originally held feed for horses; the friend who passed them on has a son who is a cowhand.)

Kinda sparse looking, there...

Time to visit the nursery. An 18-pack of snaps...

...and some portulaca, frinstance.

Here's one of the new planters, complete with its own garden, sitting amongst my struggling strawberries, which are unfortunately growing directly in the granite un-soil. They, too, need a gift from that cowboy's ma!

Another pot was moved up atop a stump. By the niece, of course.

Nothing changed about this particular planting except that the coral bells are showing their pleasure at all the rain we had recently.

Finishing touches -- Ant 1...

...and Ant2, both bought down at the Iron Zoo on I-17. Note that each is equipped with a gardening tool. One of the ants was scheduled to go to Memphis, but added too much weight to my visitors' luggage. I'll make sure he's happy here.

Link Note: I haven't sent anyone to Splendid Pictures Around The Web for some time. However, our friend in Singapore currently has, let's face it, some Splendid Pictures: painted airplanes...red pandas (they look mighty like raccoons, they do)...a baby hippo. Not to mention crop circles re-purposed (to use Bill Gates' ugly word) as adverts.

Pedestrian Friendlier

Ok, for the moment, no ironic essay on all those "x-friendly" items, systems, thingamabobs, etc., that litter our world. Rather, two hands clapping for civic improvements in the life of the pedestrian. They are definitely friendlier to the person on foot.

For instance, I kinda like those signals that actually spell out how far the walk cycle has proceeded; you know pretty well whether to try to beat the light or not. Of course, these devices, obviously very expensive, are only located in the middle of town, around the Square.

The city is littered with these tiny buttons that presumably allow the pedestrian to bring up a walk light at certain intersections.

Unfortunately, sometimes they are completely ratted out; even the buttons are missing. And, often, to my frustration, it isn't necessary to push the button, after all. If the walk light is automatic, why spend good tax money on a control system?

I have to admit a preference for the newer, bigger buttons I've seen lately at some corners. You can give them a smart whack with the palm of the hand and the signal is sent on its way. No fishing for the right approach that's necessary for the wee old-style buttons.

Further, a clarification of the ground rules is finally spelled out. Especially that flashing "stop hand" that always catches one in the middle of the street. So finish what you started, the sign explains. Makes sense, but sense isn't necessarily the law.

Smithsonian Triggers Travel Memories

A friend passed along the August Smithsonian Magazine a couple of weeks ago; I was smitten by the several articles that reminded me of my own past -- fairly recent and long gone.

*An piece about present-day Prague, jumping with a current generation of ex-pats, which also mentioned the stultifying effect that the communist days had on Czech glasswork. One of my recollections from a 70s trip is of a rather grand rooftop cocktail lounge atop a hotel (the International, I believe) that had been financed by the Soviets. A feature of the facility was a set of stylish glass panels and room dividers, all designed around the theme of the idealized worker.

*The second article that brought back memories was a spread of pictures of Elvis impersonators. On another business trip in the 70s, this time to Memphis to interview the CEO of Holiday Inns, I was astounded by the Elvis look-alike who pranced the hallways of my hotel and evidently was this particular Holiday Inn's prime entertainer. Little did I realize that he was a harbinger of today's worldwide legions of Elvis copycats. He must have been one of the earliest -- the King died in 1977.

However, it was the third article, about Ernest Hemingway's days in Havana, that really captured my attention. I had recently sequestered the postcard above from Mom's apartment; it pictured one of Pan-Am's Miami-based Clipper Ships that carried more than 60,000 passengers per year to ports in the Caribbean and South America. My father, an internal revenue (tax) agent, boarded such a plane in the late 30s to check the tax returns of ex-pats living in Havana. One was Ernest Hemingway.

This plate with a postcard-style picture of the Marti or Prado -- main drag -- of Havana was one of the souvenirs Papa brought back. That plus tales of how Hemingway invited him for more than one evening of drinks, perhaps at the Floridita bar, said to be the writer's favorite watering place. The bartender there regularly tossed dice with customers for drinks; Pop lost more than he won and had the title of La Paloma, slang for the sucker or fall guy, bestowed upon him.

Some weeks after his return home to Jacksonville, Pop received a letter from Hemingway, who was in the middle of For Whom the Bell Tolls. He wrote that he had this group of people in the middle of a bridge and he was wondering what he should do with them; perhaps he should just blow the bridge up and be done with it! He also apologized for not having any books handy to sign and send to us. The books -- A Farewell to Arms and To Have and To Have Not -- arrived a couple of weeks later, signed. I was forbidden to read the latter book, which presumably was a bit "too old" for me. Yes, I still have both the letter and the books. Somewhere. Put wherever by my late husband -- he left an inordinate amount of paper work behind.

Just for You, Bro -- Some Antique Cars

That wasn't my plan for the day, but, hey, I ran into yet another classic/antique auto show in between visiting the model railroad swap meet and the finale of the cowboy poets. And you were asking for antiques! Admittedly, the bright sun frying Cortez Street wasn't nearly as pleasant as the Watson Lake Park venue (above) from two weeks ago, but there were a couple of winners today.

Take this 19-aught-6 Brush, one cylinder roadster. It deserves the appellation "antique" if any car does.

This is the "interior" of the Brush. The sign said that somewhere in the vicinity of 36,000 vehicles were made by this pioneer firm.

A fine coupe out at Watson Lake Park. Was there ever an attached container for luggage, etc. or is this the complete configuration?

A racy model. Possibly a rumble seat? Boy, do I recall the night Pop drove the family across the California desert to Grandpa's in Riverside, with us in the rumble seat, freezing because our blanket was billowing way above us and providing no warmth at all!

Good ole boys discuss the finer points of yesterday's cars; a neat coupe in the background.

Here is one of its unusual-looking wheels; below, another original wheel with wooden spokes.

Definitely a rumble seat here, plus a real Trunk for belongings.

This red roadster I saw today on Cortez and several weeks earlier (below) driving through town.

Another coupe. Not bad, but not nearly as classy as the model below.

Antique, yes, but.... Today it's driven as a street rod, with the chromed engine open for all to admire. Sort of like going out in one's underwear to show off the muscles, I'd say.

In closing, a big project for the ambitious car freak. $1500 worth of chassis; who knows how much investment in recovery!

A Buggy Mystery

Recall my post about the old Courier litho plates? At the same place the daughter and I took those photographs, we came across another curious phenomenon: a swarm of bugs of some sort, clinging to a piece of well weathered particle board.

They were so red, I thought they might be ladybug larvae until I took a closer look. Not. Took pictures and moved on.

Eleven days later, the famous Niece from Memphis and I visited the same spot to take some close-up pix. The black fellows above I recognized -- I see them early, every spring, on the sidewalks, mating. Presumably, the insects in these pictures are all the same species, in differing stages of maturity. So: are the mating pairs adults who have over-wintered?

The swarm seems to include immature forms (the more immature, the more red; the smaller, the more immature -- at least that is my hunch.) Note the undeveloped wings on some of the critters.

How to ID these bugs (for I'm pretty sure that they are hemiptra, true bugs)? The obvious place to start out is at the Yavapai county agent's web site; unfortunately, the bugs that get attention from the ag department are those that cause problems, tho there was a similar form called seed bug (melanopterus belfragei). Being a wiseacre, I figured melanopterus as the species & I tried The Google's image service, netting a large number of fish and shark pictures for my trouble. So: at this point, I've got an email to our county agent to see if he can track down the genesis of this critter. Note: Welcome to visitors from the Circus of the Spineless! For further adventures with Prescott arthropods, click on the "insects" label below.

Interesting Links: Have you seen any of those cat pictures with the hacker slang captions (i.e., Im in ur server eating ur dataz)? Wikipedia, natch, has an article about them, as well as another about what it labels as Internet phenomena. And just for fun, take a look here.

Acorns Underfoot -- and in Process

As I was walking up the road toward home today, I happened to glance down at a neighbor's driveway. What should I see but many, many acorns.

I peered up the drive and saw still more.

And yet more. No place to grow a new oak tree, however. Nor did I collect a bag of the nuts, which I should have -- these were from the emory oak and are actually palatable without special treatment.

All of which reminded me that I had very recent picures of acorns in development on the turbinella scrub oaks up my hillside, including the half-formed little fellow below.

Now if only I had a close-up picture of an acorn woodpecker to complete the set. Here's how the birds earned that name.

Antique Trucks: Working Stiffs

To one who plays at being a photographer, let's face it, old trucks are a lot more interesting than antique cars. Vehicles that worked for a living offer more character and variety, therefore this selection from the recent antique auto show out at Watson Lake Park.

There were fire trucks two. And, yes, that is me in the red stripes -- some of the pictures in this set were taken by the Niece from Memphis; the girl in the shades is her daughter.

A scene almost obliterated from our green world -- a logging truck. It would be good to see a few more trucks loaded with timber from the many drought-killed trees that still stand in local forests.

Piggy back, old-style or a wrecker or merely a utility truck for long loads. I'm not quite sure which.

However, this well equipped vehicle probably served as a wrecker and undertook many other tasks.


Double-duty for the show -- an old truck hauling in old machinery for the exhibit of old engines.

A fine, if stripped down tractor. The caterpillar my grandfather drove in the early 30s was a much more elaborate contraption, complete to a big umbrella to protect him from the hot Phoenix sun.

The owner decided to have some fun outfitting this minimalist machine.

And here was what you might call a jack-of-all-trucks. Note all the gear lashed to the side panel.

Not to mention two extra seats for the hitchhikers.