Rolling Guide

There are quite a few ways to visit the 'gotta see' places in the city. This is one. There are a few of these trolleys steering their way around our streets during the summer. They follow the tourists. More in summer. Less in winter. Ah, none in winter. Like in most cities, they travel the familiar routes, hit a bunch of our historical spots and get you back to 'Go' in about an hour. Of course transit buses, taxis and that new craze Uber will get you quickly from here to there, but when you exit you'll have learned absolutely nothing about 'the city by the sea' as Longfellow once coined it. Better still, do what BC from the 'the big Lou' did. Give me a call when you are coming, and if our schedules match, I'll give you the tour.
Rolling, rolling, rolling.
Through the streets of Portland.
This coming summer, fall, winter, spring.
I'm an all-season tour guide.
And I'm free! 

Greenhouse

Tis the season...
I have no recollection of ever entering a greenhouse as a child. I think the first time I ever stepped foot in one was when we were getting seedlings for our first garden here at our country home. I would imagine some folks have never entered one. They are missing a lot. The aromas are overwhelming at times. Plants can get the best of me too. They still confuse me somewhat. Yesterday, I went to pick up a few things we had missed last weekend. I was on a mission. i was supposed to pick-up a butternut plant, but I think I got a buttercup instead. They are quite a bit different. I'll know the difference come August. Elenka just rolls her eyes when I do things like this. We'll finish up getting the garden in this weekend. Mostly seeds like beans, beets, swiss chard and some lettuce to get in. Then it'll be all about weeding, watering and fighting off the groundhogs, if they show up. Although I've seen no evidence of them hiding under our outbuildings, I know they lurk.
Summertime fare.
Sometimes I just like to sit in a chair up near the plants and watch.
Gardens grow, you know.

Writing Solice

Writing is good for the soul.

Sort of an ode to a writing teacher... I wish I had discovered this fact 'of nourishment' long before my adult years. It would have saved me lots of aggravation and tears in preparation for Mrs. Kibler's Monday morning English class in room 210. Man, don't I wish I could have hidden that woman's red ink pens! I wrote in blue. She chose red. Why was it that when I got my paper back there seemed to be more red than blue on it? This could have been me in 7th Grade. Big difference. He's writing; I was struggling. Getting your thoughts from your brain to the tip of that pencil, pen or keypad is not easy. It seemed to come in ebbs and flows for me. Yet, even on Sunday nights, with lots of Mom's encouragement, the blue lines got filled neatly after a recopy.
That Sunday night grind always got completed, amazingly so.
It was in the books.
Always, Sunday nights I slept soundly.
Thanks to Kibler!

Narrow Look

I'm willing to wager that few people in the entire world have seen this look. It's a simple view. It down a little alleyway sort of shut off from everything else around. It's not going to change your life if you missed it. A couple of granite sills side to side, a dangling wire, some climbing leaves, weathered bricks and a slice of sunlight thrown in for good measure. We pass hundreds of these pieces of our world everyday. I can honestly say I have no idea why I aimed the camera down into this space that afternoon. No idea at all. That's kind of strange for me. There's usually a method to the madness, when I'm taking aim with the Nikon. Not this day though. Just take it in.
Why not stop in the whirlwind of your day today and take 'something in'.
See something you usually miss.
It might bring a smile.
Or maybe just a "Hmmmmm".
Let's try not to be so narrow.
Let's widen our views.
Heck, we might even get to smell some roses.

Chocolate Staircase

Apartment living: I remember it well.
Everyone should experience at least one in their lifetime.
They can be heaven. They can bring you to your knees. Ours was a sort of Purgatory: "a place or state of suffering inhabited by souls of sinners who are expiating their sins before going to heaven." The nuns led me to believe that it was sort of a halfway house. Not the glory of heaven, but not the humidity and heat of the other locale below.
Our first apartment was a three room affair on Deering Street in the heart of the city. Tiny bedroom, small kitchenette with a bathroom next to it and a pretty good size living room. That was it. There was not a lot of place to roam. My suggestion to anyone just starting out in a relationship. Find a three-room unit and see if you can survive with out driving each other crazy or worse. If you can withstand the pressures created by living in such close quarters with another human being for a couple of years, this new found relationship might have a chance. That and finding a place to park every night on the street in front of your place. And if it's meant to be, then at the other end of the tunnel, you'll emerge no worse for wear. Yet in a stronger bond. That's my experience anyway.
And city living has its perks.
At that time, we could get a dozen Dunkin Donuts at the place at the corner for just 99¢.
Now that's livin' the life.
No wonder I survived!

Tidal Marsh Run

We ventured over to the Scarborough Marsh Audubon Center yesterday morning for the running of the Snowy Egret 5K Road Race. I had a vested interest you see. Elenka ran her first race EVER! This was a milestone for her in so many ways. A road race? Wait a minute. I have to sit down for this. If a year ago, someone would have told her she'd be running, let alone in a race, you would have heard a high-pitched laughter emanating from her direction. Background needed at this point. You see this gal HATES all sports, participating or watching. Well, to be honest, she does claim to like watching a good demolition derby from time to time. Truth be told. She thinks all sports are stupid. Well, for the last year, I guess you could slot 'running' in her plus column. Running is a sport, right? I guess as much as bowling, fishing, race car driving and cheerleading are. Now, to be serious for a moment. I am so impressed and amazed that she has been running for the last year. Thanks to Donna (aka 'annie's mom) for inspiring her all along the way.
I'll be her biggest cheerleader!
So today she might be running around the boulevard.
Sheeeesh!
Me?
Running my mouth will be the order of business for the day.

Donald M.

It's Memorial Day 2015.
To all who served.
Thank You!

Dad did his time in the Good War seeing action near Rome, the Battle of Monte Cassino and the Battle of Anzio. He was a good storyteller and often shared his experience with anyone who'd lend an ear, especially teenagers.

Thanks Buster, who made the ultimate sacrifice over the skies of Germany at only 20.

Thanks Stephen P.

Thanks Donald M.

Corner Stop

Stop!
Look around!
This is the corner of Market and Fore Street in the Old Port area of the city. If you are looking to investigate brick buildings Portland is your city. The heart of it is pretty much filled with brickworks. That and cobblestones. However, the cobblestones will, for the most part, be a bit harder to locate. Although most the thoroughfares in the city were constructed with these rounded stones, these days most streets have been tarred over, so you'll probably need a jackhammer to view them. It was always a fun adventure when Dad turned the station wagon on to Commercial Street. It was all bumpity, bumpity, bump. As I recall there was lots of laughter and an occasional screech emanating from the back seat.
All hail cobblestones!
I would imagine alignment shops took a 'hit' when the blacktop covered them.
Oh well, bricks or otherwise.
Get a project started.
You wouldn't want to see our deck and porch this morning.
Back to work, I go.
btw Even the masters had it right.
"Spring is the time for plans and projects." Leo Tolstoy

Budding Tree

There's lots of green in this picture with a milky white sky thrown in for good measure. In another week that whiteness within the tree will be gone until September. The 'circle of life' begins anew right here, right now. This pastoral setting is a favorite. If I'm headed towards the Maine Mall on this stretch of road, my head always turns to take peek. It reminds me of the great, spreading tree behind the ESSO station. In truth, when it comes to treehouse constructions, the one there was our finest hour. It was our largest. It was our most elaborate. It was the highest. It was indeed a fine get-a-way from the rest of our world. Our parents and the drudgery of school were simply a million miles away. We could smoke our Old Golds, load our corncob pipes with Prince Albert and just sit back and skim through some of our scintillating reading and 'viewing' magazine collection. Eddie had a connection at Howard's Variety and so he  always had the latest Playboys stockpiled for us. For a bunch of thirteen years-olds, it was probably 'the life'. I'm sure we didn't know it. It was a time before high school rigors, girlfriends and job obligations sent us tumbling in all different directions.
It's way gone now.
The days.
The gang.
The innocence.
But I wouldn't trade the experience.
THAT, my friend, was all about growing up.

In Shadows

How's your eyesight?
Lost within these early morning shadows is this group of cattle. I had other images that showed the cows more distinctly, but I kind of like the red barns at the top of the rise. When I head into the city via Stroudwater, it's a collections of buildings and animals I pass. There's an old abandon, rambling farmhouse to the left huddled in the trees that must have some stories within. As long as I can recall, the cows have been here. Pretty much on their own. There used to be a posted sign, on the long, gravel driveway right next to one that read KEEP OUT! The second one read: "These cows are well cared for. Please stay away." This morning I just liked how the sun was playing on these two red barns on the hill. A simple pleasure.
Coming soon.
Baby calves parading all over the warm grass.
It's quite a site to behold.
Moo!

Two Seasons

Seldom do you find two seasons caught together. Here we have two but not the ones that normally ride side by side. We see spring and fall nestled together, not waiting for the heat of summer. The apple blossoms already are fluttering to the ground like white and pinkish teardrops. 

"Spring is fleeting. Spring is fleeting."
A stack of green hardwood readying to be cured by this summer's heat.

"Fall is coming. Fall is coming."
Now, this is a sad reflection. It's not even  Memorial Day yet, and I'm already thinking January. I've learned my lesson. Wait too long and the price of a cord of wood just goes up, up, up. Some older folks I know have finally said enough is enough. Their days of feeding the woodstove monster are over. Too much clean-up. Too much dust. Too much aggravation. Too much, too much! I'm a holdout though. Yes, it's a pain to move it around on a snowy January or February day with the temperatures hovering in the teens or lower. That kitchen woodstove's warmth is hard to let go though. When it comes, they'll be no tears from me when that truck doesn't back up the driveway dropping a couple of cords in the mid-summer sun.
I'm sure I'll find something to fill my fall time.
For right now, I'll just enjoy these lingering May apple blossoms.

Fog Laced

The Ocean Gateway is our  deep-water cruise ship terminal in the city. The large main building is off to right. What we are looking at here, beyond the pilings, is the gangway which stretches off to the left. Its length allows it to service multiple ships at a time. The fog bank on Sunday morning pretty much obscured anything beyond. There are islands, Spring Point Light, and the oil tanks of South Portland that are most visible on a clear day. Like a slow-motion magician's trick, they gradually made their debut for the day soon after the camera did its thing, nonchalantly raising the curtain on another sunny spring day in the Forest City.
Sometimes my mind can seem this foggy.
It always burns off though.

Tugs In Fog

Things are not always as they seem.
This past Sunday I met Paulie at Arabica for a cup of java and some catch-up talk. When we left, a pretty thick veil of fog covered the harbor. You knew the sun was soon to burn it all away, but right there and then the cover gave the area an eerie look. I called Elenka and told her of my plans for the morning and happened to mention the fog and sunlight combination. She went to the WCSH6 webcam, which views the city towards the water from a high vantage point, and all she could see was sun and blue skies. Down close to the Maine State Pier, this was not my 'world'. I sat on the passenger side of my truck with my feet dangling out the door and just drank in this fleeting site for maybe 10 more minutes.
Soon the sun broke through.
The mist hurriedly passing.
Blue sky.
Sunlight.
The warmth of the the day was near.
Photos attempt to capture the time.
Sometimes they fall lacking.
... not always as they seem.

Garden Bench

Everyone else is doing it, so why can't I?
I'm posting flowers today.
Pictured here today we have some daffodils and a few other assorted spring flowers. This small garden is tucked away off to the left to the side of our garage. It is affectionately known to Elenka and me as the 'secret garden'. It's simple. Pretty wild. You can see a bench that was constructed with two pieces of the towering maple that once graced our front lawn. We had it cut down three falls ago. It was dying and was becoming just to dangerous to stand. In a good blow you could actually observe it coming apart. Anyway, we saved a few of the large stumps and made some benches. This is one. It sits under a spreading apple tree that is in full, pink-white full blossom bloom this morning. Why are we a bit hung up with the idea of a secret garden? We love the musical, "The Secret Garden". The musical is based on the novel by the same name written in 1911 by Frances Hodgson Burnett. We love the storyline. We love the music of course. 
We might be somewhat prejudice though. You see, when he was in the 5th grade, J- played Colin in the production. He even got to sing next to Jen and her stunning operatic voice. I teared up. So the 'secret garden' will always be near and dear to us. 

Colin put out his hand and laid it on his father’s arm.

“Aren’t you glad, Father?” he ended. “Aren’t you glad? I’m going to live forever and ever and ever!”

Mr. Craven put his hands on both the boy’s shoulders and held him still. He knew he dared not even try to speak for a moment.

“Take me into the garden, my boy,” he said at last. “And tell me all about it.”

The Secret Garden (1911)

Shopping Again

Nightmare on Middle?
I'm confused.
I'm still confused.
Home furnishings?
Office furnishings?
This shop is just a few paces away on Middle Street from our 'gals' of yesterday. Is the window design influenza really spreading? I might be more baffled by what I see through this large front window. Let's see a puffy cloud of what seems to be cotton suspended from the ceiling, three  or four colorful plastic chairs, a stretch of  what looks to be astro-turf thrown haphazardly, a vase of plastic flowers and a bright circle of orange in some sort of collage of fabric. And this is just for starters. There's more in there. My question for this store is: what gives?
Are they actually trying to sell this stuff?
It seems to be a retro-office furniture store.
If so, they've cornered the market for sure.
All I could think of, when I passed by, was a grade school home economics project.
That might be offering too much credit.
Perhaps a movie coming soon to your metro-plex?
"Your Nightmare: Diorama Gone Bad".

Window Shopping

"It was Beauty that killed the beast." King Kong (1933)

Down in the Old Port, here's an interesting way to use mannequins in windows. It certainly got my attention. Would you be surprised if I told you this was an upscale hair salon? I guess the wigs on the young ladies might have given it away. To be perfectly honest, it took me a moment or two to even catch on to the wigs. I guess you could say I was working my way up. Now, a couple of added thoughts. After I caught on to the hair, I really thought the 'gals' were just in the process of getting dressed. Silly me. When I caught on to the place being a salon, I just smiled. Do stores still use mannequins? I guess they do. As I recall (it's been a while since I've been in the mall), most are in store and not lining windows.
Does this window treatment with, for the most part, two naked ladies attract the ladies?
My guess?
No, you're either getting your hair done here or not.
Do they service males also?
I for one will never know.
I prefer saloons to salons anyway.

Some Shame

Time flies.
... and memory fades too.
Even mine.
Yesterday, I said that this birdhouse had been hanging for 15 years. I was wrong. I got my nifty calculator out and did some 'new' math. On further review, I think it was at least 22 years, and J- added all the unique decorations: wristwatches, bottle caps and locks. I do remember that there were multiple watches nailed to the front, so years and the elements have taken a bit of toll. We nailed at least 3 up there. I remember that. Also, on closer examination: ever seen the Lifetime Channel's show, Hoarders? It a show that tracks adults who over 20 to 30 years or so NEVER throw anything out. They collect loads of stuff they 'really need' and keep it forever. Raccoons, rats and other varmints take up residence too. I guess you've never lived until you've lived in an actual dump with rats scurrying about and feces everywhere. Both human and rat. How do they breath? I'll pass. Thank you! Anyway I thought of this show when I saw that the birdhouse is filled, wall to wall, with nesting material. Probably mice, or birds, or both.
There is an old Maine license plate covering the roof.
So it hasn't deteriorated much and fallen.
I have neglected my duty though.
I'm pretty good at cleaning out my birdhouses.
Shame on me.
The birdhouse is 15 feet or so above the ground.
That's my excuse.
Don't want any 'surprises' doin' any high-tension work.

New Home

The newest addition to my birdhouse menagerie is this white number swinging up back. Unlike others sprinkled around the garden, this one's simply a gray-white. It's hanging from one of our outbuildings that houses the rototiller, a push mower and other assorted, seasonal junk. I usually add one of two 'new homes' each spring to take the place of those that have seen better days or have simply fallen apart due to the elements. You see some of my houses are permanently attached to trees. They never come down. I have one that is about 20 feet up a tree and has survived about 15 years. How you say? Well, I bent an old license plate (tag) over the top, and this does a super job sheltering it from the elements. Don't ask me why, but I nailed about 5 old wristwatches, without straps, to the front. It's a pretty unique look.
It's for the birds.
Time flies!

After Storm

Right now, this is a pretty serene scene. On my way home from seeing our financial advisor  yesterday, I pulled over behind a church in the Stroudwater area of the city and saw these buildings reflected in the river. Just 15 minutes before, the sky was dark gray, and then it just opened up. The storm was short-lived but seemed to come upon us all of a sudden. Sometimes, we just stumble upon important pieces of our lives. We know they are there but maybe not quite like this.
Spring is rebirth.
Hold on.
It all comes and goes so quickly.

Boys' Toys

At Daytona when we were there, they were having some sort of jeep rally. Some beautiful and very expensive 'rides' traveled past us that afternoon. Now, here's a peculiar activity we spied. Down the beach, groups of sometimes 7-8 would assemble and park with wheels up on top of the next jeep. What is this all about? I guess it's just another case of boys being boys, but wait! There were gals doing it too. Later, when we headed back to Oviedo, next to the Speedway they were assembling to 'talk shop' and show-off where and how they had spent loads of buckeroos. Well, 'rides' and money have always gone well together.
My favorite car was my yellow and black Camaro.
First car.
Good memories...
But I never parked like this?
Best car for you?

Spring Explodes

Wait.
Tempt.
Allure.
Bait.
Entice.
Beguile.
Lead on.
Seduce.
Lure.
Solicit.
Attract.
Persuade.
Convince.
Induce.
Cajole.
Coax,
Woo.
Sweet talk.
Spring in southern Maine is a fickle thing. After this last long and arduous winter, the change of the season sure takes its time, but when it makes the scene, it explodes. And now, it's happened. Last evening's line of thunderstorms can only add to the festivities. When the sun hits this week, we'll be talking not buds, baby but real honest to goodness leaves.
Looks like our long, seasonal nightmare has ended. 
Only sweet dreams ahead.

Mothers' Day 2015

At the time of this photo, she and her Mom and Dad were living on Ellis Avenue in Irvington NJ. It was home, but since 1970, she's called Maine her home. Lucky me and J-! Since 1986 she has been ONE amazing Mom. Today, I'll also be thinking a lot of her Mom, Anna, still incredibly with it at 94 years young in Oviedo, Florida and my Mom, Beatrice.
A very special wish to all the mothers out there.
And especially to the incredible woman, who continues to put up with my shenanigans.
Happy Mothers' Day, Elenka!

Tall One

Some things in life are just out of our control and even a lot of wishing won't make it any better. My Dad's side of the family was never really close. He lost his mom to influenza when he was only nine, and he always claimed this loss was devastating to him and his younger brother. I'm sure it was. The boys were pretty much left to their own devices. Their father worked for the railroad. He was at home but in a constant struggle with the bottle, and as a result disappeared for weeks at a time leaving the pre-teen boys on their own in their Brackett Street apartment. Not good at all. As I recall, my encounters with Grampa Mike were few and usually took place on Sunday mornings. He showed up after attending Mass and was always impeccably dressed in a white shirt, tie and black suit. As he and Dad sipped Balantines, he fired questions at me, "Doing well in school? Got a girlfriend? Playing ball? Helping your mom around the house?", almost never waiting for my answer. I haven't got a lot of memories of the man, but everytime I come upon someone sippin' a Balantine or a Narragansett in a bar, I can't help but see an image flash by of him and Dad on the livingroom couch with those green bottles at the ready.
Regrets?
I've had a few.
Not being able to get to know him better is one.
Bottoms up!

Food Tunnel

On Front Street in Celebration, two restaurants side by side make for a long tunnel of outside seating choices. Some waitress or waiter has probably left this pen behind on the table in the foreground. I've never worked in the 'restaurant industry' as they call it. I prefer to do 'my work' in an dining establishment using a knife and fork and leaving pen and the pad of paper behind. The restaurant here, with the brick patio seating is Cafe D'Antonio's, featuring wide choices of anyone seeking Italian fare. Venture all the way to the end of the 'tunnel' and you'll reach The Celebration Town Tavern, which features a New England style pub and a seafood menu to match the locale. After lunch, you can walk across the street and sit in any of the numerous inviting benches with wonderful views of Lake Rianhard right at your feet. There are many restaurant choices along this stretch of Front Street.
One thing for sure...
You won't go hungry. 
Making food choices, while on vacation, is a lot like Disney.
Plenty of rides.
Just hop on! 

Bubbling Fountain

Act IV Scene 1
Macbeth
"Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire Burn and cauldron bubble."

Jesuit Father Francis X. Curley's (if you've read The Last Harrah you know the family. He was the last surviving member of the Curley dynasty. James Michael, his father, mayor of Boston for 4 terms and one Governorship)) classroom in high school was the first time I came across Macbeth, and even after reading pretty much all his plays in a college Shakespeare class, it remains my favorite. And really it had nothing to do with him swirling his red satin-lined cape around him, as he entered our the room. Now, those witches, who opened the play and return in Scene IV, are scene stealers! We could have used them last week. Our deck is nice in the summer, but we felt it needed an addition. What might be the best way to go? A fire pit setup to warm our summer evenings? Perhaps a tall, standing, propane heater? Maine evenings can cool down fast. Or how about a some sort of water display, also known as a fountain, bubbling away throughout the day. I've read where the soothing sounds of a fountain are good for the mind and soul. Well, forget my mind and soul, we've decided to install a propane fire pit to add ambiance to of our nice large deck. We probably would have went with a fountain system, if we could have found anything that didn't look like crap and was already falling apart and chipping in the showroom. Well, the pit should afford us more late evening hours to utilize our deck, and that's a very good thing.
Coming soon to a deck near me.
Pictures at 11.
Or whenever we get the fire pit up and warming my toes.

btw If he ever read this, Francis X. (1923-1988) would have probably hurled a few well-placed obscenities my way and made me kneel on chalk... AGAIN.
"Grow up, N-"

Wired

Yes, I've had to untangle wires in this shape. Long runs of garden hoses can present some of the same frustrations too. But I'm having none of that here. This, of course, is some lacing of Spanish moss at the Haven that we stayed at last week. Confusion? Yes, I've had my share. And sometimes I only wish that my bewilderment could have been solved with just untangling wires and such. Large problems have their way of mellowing out over time. Perspective adds a lot. Time for me is the great equalizer. Put some miles between you and that issue that kept you up nights, and things seem to even out. The imprint has vanished, but some shadows remain.
Curse those shadows.

Streaky Sky

I'm not one to follow the daily theme suggestions. You know mural Mondays, tacky Tuesday (I think I just made that one up), wacky Wednesdays (that one too), thoughtless Thursdays, skywatch Fridays and on and on through the weekend. However, this past Saturday the sky did take on a funky design. The clouds formed about six, rather distinct, streaks across the spring sky. I thought nothing of it until I heard a crazy lady, call in on a sports talk show no less, attempting to put the fear of God in the host, cautioning him about recent phenomenons seen skyward and what they foretold. I must state at this point, that the host has quite a few, in my book, unnatural fears that seem to rear their heads from time to time in discussions with callers. I'm quite sure he is a card carrying member of the mysophobia club.
Is that why Howie Mandel shaves his head?
But even the talk show host was holding back laughter (ok, he wasn't holding back his chuckling)  listening to this gal rant along.
Me?
I have better things to occupy my time then having unnatural fears and worrying about germs, dry paper, horses, butterflies, looking in mirrors, thunder, people touching me, flapping bird wings and strange formations in the heavens.
* btw all types of fears.
How about you?
(Ok, I don't fear them, but I ain't picking up any frogs today!)
Besides, I've got to clean my truck.
... and finish getting all my birdhouses up and open for business.
Hopefully, a busy, warm cloudless day too.

Horse History

"Hello. I'm Mister Ed."

My first hand connection with horses is few and far between. I was on the back of one of these creatures just once in my life, a brief riding lesson at a long forgotten Windham horse farm. Then there was that time around midnight, after viewing a Drive-In movie, that a bunch of us stopped along the road to pet some horses, but the owner interrupted us and screamed nasty words in our direction. He made it clear, in no uncertain terms, to leave his horses alone. We were so innocent! I also recall that winter Sunday afternoon, that Dad got the station wagon stuck in falling snow to the delight of us kids, after he had pulled over to watch 3-4 horses frollick in a mini-blizzard. And of course, from 1958 to about 1966 a Sunday night would not pass by without my routine of watching the hilarious talking equine, Mister Ed. It was for sure one of my all time favorite TV shows. I think what drew me to it, during those middle school years, was the fact that the 'talking horse' would make most of the humans look like idiots for 30 minutes each showing.
*Horse Trivia- Mister Ed's real name? Bamboo Harvester.
Oooooooh, Wilbuuuuuuur!
Sing along now...

"A horse is a horse, of course, of course,

And no one can talk to a horse of course
That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed.

Go right to the source and ask the horse
He'll give you the answer that you'll endorse.
He's always on a steady course.
Talk to Mr. Ed." 

Yellow Mistake

Bam!
I think I've been had.
This delightful spray of yellow cost me about three minutes of my life that I'll never get back. I saw it near Allen's Corner out of the corner of my eye and proceeded to pull over, wait for traffic to subside and did a quick u-turn. Then I turned into a nearby driveway, backed out, drove back about 500 yards or so and pulled over. From the confines of the front seat I photographed what I thought would be a pleasant circle of spring forsythias. Boy was I fooled. Examining it closer this morning, especially the green, I think I was hoodwinked into taking the picture. These, I do believe, are fake flowers.
I'm not happy. 
Fake yellow!
New definition of falsies?
What do you think?

Celebrate

We've always wanted to visit Celebration, Florida, but until last week the chance never arose. My sister Connie, a transplanted Mainer, has lived in Lakeland with her family for the last 18 years. We were staying with Elenka's mom in Oviedo. We decided to 'split the difference' and meet somewhere in between for lunch last weekend. Connie suggested that we 'celebrate' in Celebration, and we jumped at the chance. Celebration was designed and constructed by the Disney Company beginning in early 1990. The homes are big and quite nice, but I couldn't help but notice as we walked and drove the streets that something felt just a bit too perfect. Lunch was at the Celebration Town Tavern. It advertises itself as a tavern, but it's really just a large restaurant catering to its clientele lots of menu items that you'd find in any fine New England seafood restaurant. Traveling close to 1500 miles for a New England seafood fare was an interesting choice.
We New Englanders all felt right at home. 
My seafood medley was delicious.
Celebrating with family.
No complaints there. 

Theme Day: Revolution

Today, May 1, 2015, is Theme Day across the world-wide CDP (citydailyphoto) blog community. The theme for this month is Revolution. Simply put: "Round and round she goes and where she stops nobody knows." I'm a pretty big fan of merry-go-rounds and carousels and the calliope music that they bring to festive times. Here, two rider-less ponies gallop their way home at Downtown Disney.
Although brightly colored, there is a bit of sadness about.
Horsies like these should never circle alone.
Caution: they might revolt and dash free.