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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Feb 15, 2013 - 09:13am PT
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flames AWAY
RT? Your guess is as good, if not better, than mine.
RollingThunder
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 15, 2013 - 01:21pm PT
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Function and style are fitted perfectly together: This antique chimney is a Flames container of sorts. The house is located on a corner of Merced's Courthouse Park and houses a very large family.
All lawyered up, too.
Morse, Morse, and Morse only gets worse and worse, it would seem--one of them is Merced County's District Attorney, who is fair and open-minded, not a man to be judged by his cover, were he a book.
This looks like its an easy chimney.
And it is, at first. It sucks you in until you arrive at the cornices.
Function and style and wisdom and experience all created an antidote to an old shopping complaint, which is helpful in some climbing sits.
It helps, when you back off this climb, to place the paper sack over your head. It's on a public thoroughfare, after all.
Me, I go over there at night and just hang. The older I get, the less bold I become until it seems almost all experience is like drinking de-caf coffee. Why bother? It's why you see so much of me here, practicing my typing.
Function and Style is/are open twenty-four and seven and are wishing you a very fine day.
The Hands of Time Shoplifted My Memory
Critical thinking coupled with
Casual observation show that
Comparison shopping days are over, suckers!
Just toss it in the bag and go, go, go!
There's no time to worry over pennies
Just to try ro save some dough.
Those were roses, by the way,
Which you just rushed past, f*#kers,
But didn't sniff,
just sniffed at.
And those were the days, so fine:
All gone too fast
Compared to now,
When all you have is a little bit of memory
And lots and tons and gobs
And hours and days and even weeks (sigh) of empty time.
Make great memories for yourselves.
No one else can or will.
Tell us all of Jack and Jill
How they came falling down the hill
And try to set those tales to rhyme.
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Feb 15, 2013 - 01:46pm PT
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hey there say, mouse....
oh yes!! i must agree! ... when my kids were little they DID want to climb these, too!!
(course, well, so did i, but figured i'd best stick with trees) :)
love them ol' old chimneys... good memoies, too, from old houses here in, of recent, that had them...
*the few we saw, were in calif.. and then the older rougher looking ones, were from a few old farm houses, in south texas...
thanks for the share...
happy good day, as i get back to work, around here.... :)
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 15, 2013 - 02:47pm PT
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I must say your picture of your painting is better by far
IN COMPARISON TO
the picture I took of the picture you painted.
Sometimes clarity suffers in comparison.
Vision tunnels.
Samenesses are expected and differences are high-lighted.
As long as we are talking of apples, oranges, bananas, and chimneys, let's have us a sacrifice! Let's all give up what foods we really can't stand for Lent, now it's Lent, speaking of Lent.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 16, 2013 - 07:34pm PT
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Post card from Santa Cruz, CaliforniaThis is the first side.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 16, 2013 - 07:39pm PT
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The second side.
I recall a drive into the San Lorenzo, Gypsy.
Dolores and I and you and Randy.
There were some awfully large steelhead in those pools up there.
It is a mighty strong memory, the fish so huge in that small a space.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 17, 2013 - 02:16am PT
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My town's ranking in polls was a topic once. I felt a need to defend the place when I saw the comments. It can indeed be a shititty place to live.
http://articles.latimes.com/1999/sep/24/news/mn-13489
http://articles.latimes.com/1999/
I used to ride to the college along the trees on M St. on my bike back in the nineties when this flock was just taking hold. Had to be careful at night, for sure, when they'd all roosted. They are not around any longer.
Now, years later;, I live in the Tioga, home to hundreds of pigeons, the descendants of European Rock Doves. Didn't know that?
And the park two blocks away is loaded up with crows at night. The problem is that the town has lots and lots of trees and the surrounding area is relatively barren of roosting possibilities, I suppose.
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Feb 17, 2013 - 06:02pm PT
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Take all those little pieces of chips that are too small to dip with. Pour 'em into a bowl. Cover them up with the salsa above. Stir it up. Slap on a heavy layer of sour cream. Eat them like cereal with a spoon.
Wash down with a couple of those Sierra Nevada Torpedo Extra IPA's.
You'll live at least long enough to collect medicare and social security.
If you were married for more than ten years, then whose social security to collect becomes an issue. If you're gonna live till 90 (I certainly will) then it makes sense to defer collecting your own till age 70 and collect your share of the ex-wife's. For all you twotimers out there, sorry you can only collect on one.
Gotta run and get bucket to get the baby some beer.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 17, 2013 - 08:29pm PT
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http://likethedew.com/2009/07/31/bald-mountains-another-unique-endangered-southern-treasure/
I packed a pair of saddlebags and threaded the stock lock through the staple on the post door and clicked it fast and left a not. Be back shortly. Time was measured differently back then.
We set out on horseback up the trail to the Lizard Bald. Claire led. And all the way, I watched her hair fall against her back and admired the way it caught the light and shifted with the movements of her horse over the raggedness of the trail. The passway was full of rocks and went tacking up the mountain and we crossed the creek a dozen times. The leaves on the trees hung heavy and dark on the limbs from all the moisture. The whole world smelled like pulling a mossy smooth stone up from a creekbed and inhaling its fragrance. Toward midday the sky was like blue cloth faded nearly white from many washings, not a cloud in sight from horizon to horizon. By afternoon it rained out of black clouds like pouring piss from a boot, a common simile the tenor of which I have never understood. And afterward it was so foggy in the woods that you could hardly see your horse's ears ahead of you. Then the sun began setting, casting yellow and red beams through breaking clouds. Twilight went on for such a great while that you began to suspect night might not fall at all. If there was a time of year to be young and roaming the mountains, this was it.
We reached the bald at moonrise and built a small fire. We had decided not to cook and ate only water crackers with soft cheese and hot-pepper jelly. And four new peaches that Claire contributed, which we ate out of our hands like apples, fuzzy skin and yellow flesh both. And then we lay in a nest of quilts in the long grass and watched the Green Corn Moon ride slowly across the luminous arc of sky, looking so much bigger and softer than any of the winter moons that you could hardly believe it was the same orb. The horses grazed in the distance with the dew dark on their backs. I remember, sometime before dawn, Claire shrugging from the blankets all naked, her bare shoulders and tapered back blue in the moonlight, the tall grass silver and fallen over in long heavy skeins like a woman's hair. She wandered out to take in the view and came back under the blankets shivering, dew-wet all down her legs. We lay talking all night together until the first color of morning, and then we slept an hour or two, and when we awoke, everthing below was a white ocean of fog. We boiled coffee atop one of only a few sunlit islands. And then the fog lifted out of the valleys and the folded world revealed itself and went on as far as the limits of sight permitted.
--Thirteen Moons
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 18, 2013 - 11:00pm PT
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Meanwhile, back in Merced.Arbor Gallery is closed Monday. These are in the window adjacent to the Multicultural Arts Center/Arbor Gallery. Henry DuPertuis is a much-respected architect and artist in town.
There is an exhibit, concerning RED, which I've not seen yet, in the Arbor Gallery...
These are trees surrounding the Federal Building on 18th St. which I've always liked. They came with the building, I guess.
And across the street, some tilework I've shown before, just not the detail.
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Feb 19, 2013 - 12:19pm PT
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Yeah them steelhead; but that had to be pre-1980 and I doubt they run like that anymore...
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Feb 19, 2013 - 01:07pm PT
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Nice passage, Mouse. Peggy Lou was my Claire on our mountain adventures...minus the horses.
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throwpie
Trad climber
Berkeley
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Feb 19, 2013 - 01:12pm PT
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Feb 19, 2013 - 02:15pm PT
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Meanwhile back in North Carolina for my own visual of the fog near a "bald".
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Feb 19, 2013 - 07:20pm PT
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Daniel
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 19, 2013 - 08:10pm PT
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I got out at noon and went for a walk. When you take a camera on a walk, it is less work. You are pre-occupied with the shots, and not with how tired you may feel. So you may cover less ground but enjoy it more. I know I'm onto something here.
And the reason I wanted to take the camera is the new underpass on G St., one of the major ways to cross the RR tracks and Bear Creek to get from Hwy 99 to the northside of town, the hospital, Merced High, Merced College, and the UC campus. M St. and R St. still cross over the Santa Fe tracks, whereas the passengers heading south on Amtack see this sign on the way out of town at the underpass.
It is richly decorated, and worth seeing up close, IMO. We Mercedians are trying to live up to our image as a Gateway City to YNP, as you can tell. But we are also celebrating our diversity and our livelihoods, which are due mostly to agriculture, of course.
Views from the southeast side of G St.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 19, 2013 - 08:21pm PT
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And here are views from the north side of G St.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 19, 2013 - 08:34pm PT
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I got these photos and walked up 21st Street taking shots of older homes and got downtown just in time to be greeted by the rainstorm that had been threatening all day. So I ditched into the Arbor Gallery for a view of their Red Exhibit to wait it out and chat with the lady in attendance, who said that the next exhibit will be Blue. I wondered if yellow were the next color, and she asked why yellow? I said Jasper Johns, of course!
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Feb 19, 2013 - 08:52pm PT
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And this double rainbow just a few minutes ago.
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