Oh, The Things You Will See

So, my friend Anna and I were walking back toward my place from downtown this afternoon. We're strolling along, almost there, just a few blocks from the state capitol building, as urban as Tallahassee gets, and what do we see? A chicken! Just scratching and pecking with those big chicken feet in the grassy area next to a parking lot. A little red hen, unafraid of us or the traffic passing a few feet away from her. We talked to her a second (Hello, chicken, where is your flock?), tried to figure out where she escaped from, and took a few photos. As you can see, she posed quite graciously.

We left her to her dinner and went into the hair braiding business in that white building in the picture. "Y'all raising chickens?" we asked. They said no, but they call her City Chick - she's been around for about three weeks. Crazy!

Where does she roost? Where is she laying eggs? Would it be wrong for me to take said eggs for my own if I find her hiding place? She doesn't seem to have a rooster. I would know. I live right here, and I would hear him.

I tell you, this neighborhood just gets busier and busier. City Chick!

Sunday and a ham.

Bottle tree at Mama's house, new and improved.

Granny, Jessie, Lily, Owen, and sweet ol' Pearl dog.

Mama and Kathleen, taking the breeze.

Mama always takes the pictures, so I felt like I'd put her in a few instead.

Where Mama holds court.

The Ma and the Pa.

Mama making rolls and swapping stories.

To me, this looks like Owen is at a cocktail party, but really May just got off work and hasn't changed yet.

Jessie, looking very mama.

May and Mark, smokin' menthols.

Granny, Jessie, Mama, eating hummingbird cake under the trees.

Owen enjoying his Uncle Mark's company.

Mama, communing with the chickens.

Sorry, I didn't get any pictures of the ham.

artsy fartsy

A good friend of mine, Leila, is an artist. Here lately, I guess just for kicks, she's been doing little drawings of her nearest and dearest. Mine both cracked me up and flattered me, so I thought I'd share. Sort of King of the Hill-esque, you think?

Happy 50th. Happy 50th. Happy 50th.

All hail Xerox! Hundreds of underground cultures and subcultures, captured on paper, promoted with fliers, examined and captured in zines and self-bound booklets, archived and spread and multiplied. Black and white artwork, smeared and shadowed and stolen from office jobs page by sneaking page.

A blog? A blog is nothing, it's 1s and 0s. Technology fades, and these words will blink into nothing someday. But all that copied paper, scattered like leaves like manifestos dropped behind enemy lines - it won't all rot. It will remain, to carry our stories forward, hidden in basements and behind walls and under floorboards.

Happy birthday, photocopier! Long may you print!

everybody loves a parade

You got your hippies and your mamas and your punks and your skins. You got your geeks and your dorks and your pin-ups and pirates. You got your queers and your breeders, and in several cases those lines are a little blurry. Mostly, we got a beautiful day and a fine time, and we'll do it all again next year.

Krewe of the Fives

We're the float that doesn't move, the morning fête, the oi polloi. Six feet above the street, laughing and dancing and hassling the crowds. We want your beads, your candies, your boiled peanuts, and your pretty wenches. We're the Krewe of the Fives.

All year I live in a crickity crackety apartment that's slowly returning the soil, dealing with palmetto bugs and critters in the walls and an oven that doesn't work. Downtown noises and overflow parking from the hotel down the street. But one day a year, one spring morning when the dogwoods are blooming and folks pack the streets, mine is the best house in town. My friends show up happy, the beer goes down easy, and the marching bands step lively.

I simply can't express how I fall in love, each and every year, with the whole damned affair. If you can, come join us. Bring chips and a smile.

the throne room

Before:




The last three are "in progress" pictures. I did have a wall behind the tub and all - that was part of the problem. At some point, someone covered up the window that was already there.

After:

Yes, I lived like that for 6 years. I mean, it wasn't as bad when I moved in, but it got pretty grody toward the end. To have a bathroom window and a ceiling free of mildew seems to me to be the height of luxury right now.