’Tis spring-y
Sunday, 8 February 2015
Another nice day; these are the first daffies I have found a-bloom—a bit ahead of ours….
BeltLine report: another packed day.
Musings
Out, about
Saturday, 7 February 2015
Such a gorgeous warm and sunny day…we are so lucky! This “palm” “waves” over the water area (not turned on yet) of the playground in the upper H4WP.
BeltLine report: PACKed.
Livin’ the dream
Friday, 6 February 2015
Neighborhood decoration…(only one shown).
Isn’t this the homeowner dream? A pair of giant concrete finials on posts flanking their driveway?
Angels in diamond plaid
Thursday, 5 February 2015
Attended a funeral today, and was reminded how similar Episcopal services are to those of their rejected parent, the Catholic church.
I still don’t get the cannibalism imagery—the body and blood stuff….
Surprised me
Wednesday, 4 February 2015
We did a wee bit of price comparison today, between Target and Walmart…didn’t plan to, it just happened that way. Final score for four grocery-type items, 50–50—no clear winner.
Folly fragment
Tuesday, 3 February 2015
As old as this wall fragment looks, it’s in front of a house that’s something less than two decades old—and a replacement for an older home. Speaking of that phenomenon, I know of a dozen homes within a mile of this house that are being replaced right now—a mini construction boom of McMansions…so much for designation as an historic neighborhood based on architectural consistency….
Cheering fuchsia-camellia
Monday, 2 February 2015
Our camellia commenced budding and got caught in our last cold spell (the brown edges), and now it’s beginning to bloom…and another cold spell (Atlanta version) is just ahead of us.
Game over (?)
Sunday, 1 February 2015
“There’s a lot of hoo-rah,” I hear. Not that I understand the strategy-d’-football.
Not in my world. I have a a brand-new photo of a leaf that I think may be castor bean (and thus poisonous), and a #fitbit that won’t update (I’m taking it as temporary, but for now temporary is lasting more than an hour—hrrrumph). This may be just my personal narration….
Does it make sense that I’m flashing back on a view into Monte Carlo from an overlook (not from a movie), or is it really that I’m dodging anxiety generated by reading Pickett’s Charge by Charles McNair? [Enquiring minds want to know….]
Oh, geeze; I think I was off on a Elmore-Leonardian hallucination. Or something.