Wardown Park
is purchased in 1904 by Asher Hucklesby and Edwin Oakley on behalf of the town of Luton, England. [Source].
Landscaping, northern Vermont. See the "Country Life" series, also archived under "Vermont".
I did not even know where Luton was until yesterday when, in the execution of my duties as one of the judges for Post of the Week, I encountered PC Michael Pinkstone's colorful blog, Don't Mess With Me... I'm From Luton, which piqued my interest in this exotic community once famous for its hat-making and now apparently thriving for other reasons somewhere outside London.
As Bianca and I observed last night during our visit to Chinatown (where the galleries were all having open-houses for their artists), neighborhoods and communities are always changing. Over time populations shift, industries fold, the purposes of buildings are called into question. Tastes change. For example, you may one day find yourself with the urge to frame the compost heap with teal planks and plant some coleus. Or, perhaps you are a young, undernourished artist with unusual tattoos and clothing choices and decide to make yourself at home where once you might have been able to buy a live chicken or tiny doll house decorations made in China.
"Fong's still exists!" Bianca exclaimed and took me there to prove it. "Fong's is open!" she added. We went in to browse and I acquired a copy of "Moby Dick" smaller than a postage stamp, the size of a nickel.
Later we watched a Chinese dragon being run through its paces by an energetic drummer in an upstairs rehearsal hall, near a nightclub with a different beat entirely. Bianca was busy taking pictures. I watched the people. Then we drove to see the old Mayan Theater all lit up with red lights, like the entrance to Hell.
I hope some of the pictures come out. We had a wonderful evening on the town. A real contrast to country life, as you can imagine. We lingered over our reasonably priced Chinese dinner and the waiter even gave us extra fortune cookies. One of mine said "Your trouble cease and fortune smile upon you." I do hope so.
Landscaping, northern Vermont. See the "Country Life" series, also archived under "Vermont".
I did not even know where Luton was until yesterday when, in the execution of my duties as one of the judges for Post of the Week, I encountered PC Michael Pinkstone's colorful blog, Don't Mess With Me... I'm From Luton, which piqued my interest in this exotic community once famous for its hat-making and now apparently thriving for other reasons somewhere outside London.
As Bianca and I observed last night during our visit to Chinatown (where the galleries were all having open-houses for their artists), neighborhoods and communities are always changing. Over time populations shift, industries fold, the purposes of buildings are called into question. Tastes change. For example, you may one day find yourself with the urge to frame the compost heap with teal planks and plant some coleus. Or, perhaps you are a young, undernourished artist with unusual tattoos and clothing choices and decide to make yourself at home where once you might have been able to buy a live chicken or tiny doll house decorations made in China.
"Fong's still exists!" Bianca exclaimed and took me there to prove it. "Fong's is open!" she added. We went in to browse and I acquired a copy of "Moby Dick" smaller than a postage stamp, the size of a nickel.
Later we watched a Chinese dragon being run through its paces by an energetic drummer in an upstairs rehearsal hall, near a nightclub with a different beat entirely. Bianca was busy taking pictures. I watched the people. Then we drove to see the old Mayan Theater all lit up with red lights, like the entrance to Hell.
I hope some of the pictures come out. We had a wonderful evening on the town. A real contrast to country life, as you can imagine. We lingered over our reasonably priced Chinese dinner and the waiter even gave us extra fortune cookies. One of mine said "Your trouble cease and fortune smile upon you." I do hope so.
Why is it that everyone insists on leaving the hyphen out of Moby-Dick? (Even some publishers!) Of course there simply wasn't room on yours ~ as for myself, I'm holding out for "The Whale" inscribed on a grain of rice. (How odd ~ this is the fourth comment I've left on various blogs pertaining to Moby-Dick this summer & Mig has been going on about great beaked whales over at Metamorphosism…)
Personally, I blame it all on Rockwell Kent, who banished the hyphen on his otherwise beautifully illustrated 1931 Random House edition. Of course he also neglected to put Melville's name on the cover…
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Luton is thriving? Who knew.
I only know it as that airport-town where you can go and get a cheap flight on a cattle-car airline (which I really must try one of these days)
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> "Moby Dick" smaller than a postage
> stamp, the size of a nickel
"Call me Ishmael. Hey, I finally caught that damn whale! FIN."
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i think there still is the 'live chicken market'. i think. i did notice the place where the whole roasted pig hung, upside down & dripping, in the window, is gone.
the chickens were in crates and cages, one on top of the other, only a couple of years ago. i did look for them last week...maybe i wasn't early enough.
i had 4 laying hens in the backyard in hollywood. on orange grove and fountain. we rented the house and they came with it.
i miss those days.
i think i'm missing everything.
i want to go back to school.
why am i telling you all this now?!
xxx
ps is vermont viable?
or is it too cold?
and remote?
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