My skullie pic

OK, so I was double-dared to show off one of those skimpy skullie Ts on my very own well-aged bod. So here's the picture, taken at home last week. No, I didn't get around to having the pic taken at the monthly Prescott blogger get together. However, a fellow blogger (Catalyst) had promised a surprise. Here is what he showed up with (below), a fine, high-quality T with a serious skull, none of this girly-girly nonsense. One problem: it is a man's xtra-large; Cat-A thought that perhaps I could somehow use it as a skirt. Other possibilities include having a friend remodel it into my size ... or cutting out the image and appliqueing it to a sweat or another T or even a pillow for the living room. In any event, thank you, Cat-A, for a thoughtful gift.

Now, since we are already in high-fluff territory, I'd like to add yet another element to the mix, which has absolutely no relationship to the important question of skulls vs. skullies. Namely, my absolutely most favorite LOL Cat of all time: Dunecat.

Art Show Link: Dagny took some neat pictures of the Phippen art show on the Square; you should have a look.

Bags in trees

Inevitably, one of those glaringly white plastic bags is going to find itself up in a tree where it might remain for a year or two. The bags are built to catch the wind and my main surprise is that in my three years of incessant picture-taking, I've only caught the three shown in this post.

It has been my observation that the chief reason white plastic bags and their cousins, fast food take-out paraphernalia, are so objectionable on the landscape is that they literally gleam white. Such white is a rarity in Nature, therefore the trash shouts at our eyeballs. Consider what the plastic replaces: the kraft paper bag, whose color is about the same as the seed balls on that sycamore tree above. When a kraft paper bag or cardboard box is tossed out the car window, it melds into the scenery and, of course, also rapidly biodegrades. The latter is mere frosting on the cake.

Now, as I am old, I find it preferable to grocery shop once a month or thereabouts. That means a lot of bags. I like the plastic; they are lighter in weight and more flexible in use as compared to the currently de rigueur tote bag or yesterday's kraft paper bag. I find many re-uses for the bags I collect. However, there is absolutely no reason on God's green earth that they need to be WHITE. Why can't they (and their fast food cousins) be colored the same subdued tan as kraft paper products? They would disappear into the landscape when the inevitable slobs tossed them out the car window. I know, I know: white is the national emblem of purity and sanitation, while tan suggests grunge -- a bad subliminal for food we put in our mouths. Nonetheless....

Ornamental frogs & toads

Our weather has been weird this week -- the Central Highlands have been damp, covered by clouds for more than three days. In May. May is the month you expect the hot winds and the sun dry everything to a crisp. It's made me feel like Al Capp's Joe Btfsplk, whose life was forever under a small private cloud. All of which might explain why the subject of frogs came up when I considered a subject for tonight's post -- frogs like the kind of weather we've been having. (So do toads.)

For starters, you were probably not aware that there is indeed an Arizona State Frog -- it is the Arizona tree frog, who beat out the spadefoot toad (above) 11,866 to a mere 3,486 in a vote of school children. I think that's a freaking shame, as the spadefoot guy is a lot more interesting and deserving for his perseverance. Besides, he's a desert critter. Guess the tree frog is a lot prettier (below). More to the point, the spadefoot guy in that picture is the only amphibian I've ever seen in the Prescott area. Our state frog lives up above the rim where, at least, I've seen a tank or two lined with bull frogs.

Being as how we have few frogs or toads hereabouts, I'm surprised at how many amphib themed items I've found to photograph in my local meanderings. For example, above is one of my favorite modern stained glass windows and, below, a neighbor's fine Tshirt.

Froggy items for the garden abound, whether you're going upscale at Tuesday Morning or shopping at WalMart.

This fine fellow decorates a corner of my niece's front porch. The frog king rules a yard a few doors down the street.

Some frogs would be lost among all those plants in a garden and are meant for the knickknack shelf.

Mexico is source for the more colorful indoor frogs (above, below). A very dear friend spent several summers in Mexico (Acatlan) working with a local artisan producing large ceramic toads for the tourista trade, an experience she described in her thesis and book.

I am quite taken with friend Patty's leap frogs, but the handsome fellow below means the most to me -- he was made by my Mom many years ago when she took up ceramics. As you can see, everybody loves frogs! I love both frogs and toads, having known more toads than frogs in my lifetime, probably because toads show up at lighted porches to chow down on the insects that head for the light.

Links: Interesting -- DaveG just linked to my post about Quonset Huts here in Prescott; in addition to a fistful of blogs, he maintains a page devoted to all you ever wanted to know about those versatile, semi-tubular structures. And, I hate to admit it, my frogs are but nothing compared to the Genuine R.E.D. Griffin in a streetscape down in Tucson. I want it so very badly.

Gnarls & knots

Gnarls and knots. Aren't those wonderful words to say aloud? Can't you just feel them leave your mouth, especially if you enunciate the G and the K in German style. Wonderful just to stare at, too.

Most of the knots and gnarls that I see are weathered to silver.

This huge knot was part of the landscaping when we moved into my present house...

...as are these swirls. It's hard to imagine the live trees that produced such beautiful wood, though I would like to see these patterns in their natural wood color.

The huge oak burl above was formed when a mistletoe took root; this particular specimen is the largest such burl that I have ever seen -- maybe four inches in diameter. As for the tree trunk below, I'll bet that its fibers include knots and gnarls that will be revealed once it dies.

Fungible Link? Our current, unseasonable wet weather reminds me that The Mad Bioneer is currently posting a series on how to grow your own gourmet mushrooms -- and he's doing it right here in Prescott.

Cat in a box

Like many cats, my Max hankers after enclosed spaces. For example, there is no longer a wastepaper basket in my office -- I got tired of picking up the scrids and scraps left on the carpet when he knocked the basket over as he tried to climb in. On this particular occasion, I had received a package of goodies from Land's End, resulting in a perfect, cozy fit of a box.

End of sequence. Max tired of this particular box, perhaps because I was paying too much attention.

However, I did get the opportunity for a nice close-up of cat (above) and his right ear (below). Too bad his little ear tuft was not in focus.

Another Blogged Cat or Two: Fellow blogger Catalyst features Smoke on his logo at the top of Oddball Observations and regularly posts about his feline collective; his most recent is a paean to Jazz, who curls up in his lap, purrs and Does Not Bite. Quite unlike my Max who figures he should be Alpha in the household and as such, has a right to reach over and take a chunk out of my arm. At his pleasure. How he hates the word NO.

The Lynx Lake critters

The Lynx Lake Store is just that -- a resort lake store, with a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Important items include fishing bait, smokes, snacks, a few staples that folks in the camping grounds might need.

And a grand collection of pricey kitch, in case you ever wondered where people found such stuff.

Of all the critters on display, I was drawn to the buzzard, though for the life of me I can't figure out where the designer got the idea that a turkey vulture has a crest or a long neck. No way, just that naked red head. Studying the picture below, I'd make a bet that the mold which produced our buzzard also produced, say, a flamingo or some other flashier bird. I can't believe that this is the product of a chain saw artist; at least, not a local artist who has seen a buzzard. Besides, the beak is whitish.

I had a difficult time pulling friend Patty away from the copper javelina. Then she saw the price tag -- $300. And, no, we do not have moose one (below) in Arizona. Maybe Idaho or Montana. Not down in the sunny Southwest, however. But, hey, it's kitsch we're talking about and when did kitsch ever have anything to do with real life?

Vintage Cars: I guess the love of old vehicles must be a worldwide phenomenon. Visiting Windy Skies for the first time in a couple of weeks, I chanced upon a vintage/classic car rally in Mumbai. Not just vintage. Not just classic. Also classy! And, now this -- Rich has a pair of warring lizards. Big guys, unlike the teensy guys I find on my logs.