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| From The Garage Tour |
Hey, I'm cheap. I'm easy too...just like my new signature summer barbeque contribution, gorgonzola stuffed artichoke hearts. The cherry tomatoes from my container farm make a colorful garnish that really pushes the flavors over the top. Are they not attractive? Someone invite me over. I have a Scrabble set in the trunk of my car, too.
There still exist produce vendors with horsedrawn wagons plying the streets of Baltimore. They are called A-rabbers, after the nomadic habits of Arabs, because they travel with their wares. Today the cart had melons, squash, pineapples and bananas. Maybe he had a few onions and potatoes tucked under for his regulars. You might save a few cents at the supermarket, if you have a car. So many people on this guy's route do not. When he comes down 23rd street he gets a lot of customers. We all started counting quarters this afternoon when we heard the pony bells jangling and the chanting of fruits from Howard Street.
Hooray! I have finally figured out how to imbed my mapping project to the side! Now you may view the garages of the rich and not so famous as well as the killer staircases those Olmstead brothers secreted in the hills between the stately homes of Roland Park. What's further, if you want to add any landmarks, I invite you to collaborate. Send me an e-mail.
Sometimes this space reports up-to-the-minute news on goats. On other occassions, other animals may be featured. This story concerns a runaway pig in Arkansas whose escape commuted his death sentence by interrupting his uncontaminated march through the food chain by way of some lady's swimming pool. Right on, pig! Live your spirit! As the sausage company spokeman said, "Who knows where he's been?"
Speaking of allies, it had been some time since I took a lengthy walk. Creaking, I took to the fragrant byways this morning after coffee. It is always a joy to note recent improvements to my neighbors' rear facades! And they are still setting out chairs with the trash/recyclables at their ally heads. This one looks quite comfy. An abiding mystery...
You see pictured here a group of U.S. Ranger re-enactors moments after they lobbed a duck pin bowling ball at a passing sailboat from the National Shrine at Fort McHenry. This is because duck pin bowling originated in Baltimore and the solders are defending our allies from the British. The Commodore is especially pleased that he caught those lousy Limeys mid hoist raising their champagne glasses.
Seriously, although they use them as props, they didn't load the cannon with the bowling ball, but enough charge and sod that they had to wait for the shipping lane to clear and the picture before this one is a blur.
(Sorry for the Limey crack, KP!)
I may as well just give up on wearing clothes that show stains and embrace mildew wear full time...spotty arms, spotty shirt and of course, polka dot socks with my sandals.
I have never gotten poisen ivy, nor sumac nor any of those woodland allergic reactions to plants, but a visit to the aromatic herbs in a green house the other day seems to have given me a rash. Huh. I musta been pinchin' the mints and scratching bug bites.
When I can crow bar her out of bed, the younger daughter and I are finding cheap ways to amuse ourselves. The other day we paddled about the harbor in a dinky little paddle boat-not one of the dragon boats, pictured. They cost too much. This was very brave of us, I was careful not to peer too closely into the depths, considering how many cadavers they've been plucking from these waters this year....
Because he couldn't be at her graduation this spring and my older daughter requested I give him a photo, I put a picture in a frame I found in the alley behind a liquor store and put it on her father's front porch. I was going to ring the doorbell and run away, but I heard him talking in the house and stayed to say hello.
