Carrier. Container. The side (shown here) and the top used different terms. Either way, you stack your devils if you buy one of these.

I didn’t.

Mental exercise: think back to pre-plastic days, when you had simple organic materials at hand. What did you do for containers? Most organic materials didn’t seal the way plastic does. What’s the impact of that? Submerging in salt water (think sauerkraut) or sealing in fat (a surface layer in a ceramic vessel)…that kinda sealed stuff. But a flexible plastic skin? Nothing like it. And…?

Now, eggs back in the day. Well, you could keep it at room temp, or hard boil it. I remember with great fondness boiled egg sandwiches we had the day long ago we toured Calakmul. Hit the spot!

Pardon for the wandering post; I could have…oh, never mind, I’ll save it to use in a day or two….

Photo not from SDB, but from ML.

On Sagitaw Farm stationery…

July 27 1963

In 1889 Grover Cleveland gave to Riley H. Fuller, SR. 171 and 8/10s acres of land in Luce County which he, his heirs and assigns were to hold forever. Lincoln’s 1862 homestead law limited the area which could be homesteaded to 160 acres but he was permitted to take title to some fractional lake lots. His homestead [certificate] now in the possession of Cassius C. Minier, was number 989 issued by the Land Office at Marquette and was one of the three earliest ones issued in Lakefield Township. The other two were issued to Robert Bryers on the west side of Round Lake and to Darbey (?) Tait for the land now occupied by Stone’s bar. The Tait certificate has been destroyed. The Bryers certificate is owned by his granddaughter, Erma Richards.

In 1841 when section 36, T45N, R12W, was originally surveyed by the U.S. there was evidence of an “Old Indian Sugar Bush” on what is now Sagitaw Farm.

The date and Paragraph 1 are typed. Paragraph 2 is handwritten by Francis F. McKinney in blue ink.

I wonder how long the “forever” of the first sentence lasted….

We crossed into GA over the steel bridge in McCaysville, which we’d never traversed before. Even with a quick stop at TJs, we were home with the car unloaded before noon. Yippee!

Today’s chore list took us downtown. What a pointy capitol building!

Plz forgive if I got the capital/capitol spelling(s) incorrect. Hurts my head to sort those two out!

“Hurry! Quick”—that’s what I was thinking as I grabbed for Blue (the point and shoot), when we came upon this monstrosity. I thought that even before I wondered what it was.

Crenelated towers with fat cylinders nestled among them. The area is called Mount Airy. Turns out these are water tanks (view from above). And donchaknow, gravity is your friend when you’re piping water hither and yon. Including in Ohio.

We toured the Fulton Bag and Cotton Mill this afternoon, shepherded by historic preservation consultant Bamby Ray (for real; well, she really goes by that—her “real” name is Muriel). The remaining buildings of the mill complex are now residential, and, despite the intervention of fire and tornado, have been capably rebuilt.

This view is east-southeast from a roof of one of the large mill buildings, through the two towers of the steam power generation complex, to its neighbor, the Oakland Cemetery.

It’s difficult to pick one picture to represent the many lovely views we had of the mill complex….

We sure aren’t ready for snow here (oooh, Colorado), but we did have some precip—after I took this shot around noon. I love when the leaves are down yet still are fluffy and colorful. Is it okay to describe dry leaves as fluffy?—you know what I mean—they’re not matted by rain yet. The difference by tomorrow morning will be…noticable.

Read a bit about the Northern and Southern Iroquois—umhm, Haudenosaunee—today….

I’ve never excavated foundation walls in this density before, and I’ve certainly never seen them color coded as to age.

I’m definitely not up on the architectural detail in Catholic houses of worship so I don’t know the “proper” name of this feature, but I did enjoy this bird on the ceiling of the rooflet over the altar in this cathedral. Out front is a statue of the original patron, and the pigeon atop his head loved his perch (coo-coo) and did not take flight for the whole five minutes we spent in front of the façade.

Ah, wandering along links in WikiPee, I discovered that the rooflet is a baldachin, Italian baldacchino. There’s one in St. Peter’s (Rome), and this building was meant to imitate that one, hence this copied detail mimicking the Bernini original there. Enough; I will probably forget this in a few days….

I just love dioramas. And I really love dioramas made by one person in their own vision.

Kudos, G!

I remember being spellbound as a kid each time I was taken to the museum at MSU as I examined the detail in their dioramas. I particularly remember one of the square in the Aztec version of downtown Mexico City (that is, Tenochtitlán) and of a small family of deer in a tropical forest somewhere that had leaf-cutter ants traipsing along the spine of a tree’s buttress-root. In fact, when I encountered leaf-cutter ants in the wild, maybe for the first time—and it was many years later—I watched and watched.

A diorama had come to life!