February 28

Some kind of stormwater drainage project is underway near my house, and these pipes are stacked up in the park waiting their turn to be put in service.

Lubbock, Texas

February 27

I never got to meet my great-aunt, Ethel Green Russell, but these three volumes of her poetry are among my most cherished possessions:

Deep Bayou was published in 1941.
Lantern in the Wind was published in 1942.
Land of Evangeline was published in 1946.

Lantern in the Wind was a family copy that I got from my dad; I had to search out the other two books.

Here is a sample:

Quaker Mother

I shall kneel weeping when they say
His blood-stained grave is filled -
But now because he died, war's prey -
Because he killed!

This is from Lantern in the Wind, in a section titled "Break the World's Anger." The book was published during World War II, and I have always been struck by the pacifist theme of this poem, and of others in the same section of the book.

She was the Poet Laureate for Louisiana from 1970 to 1973, and was only the second Poet Laureate for the state, succeeding a poet who served from 1942 to 1970.

Lubbock, Texas

February 26

My office-wall art gallery (kudos to the genius who came up with cork wallcovering).

Please note that the light switch and the thermostat are NOT photographs.

Lubbock, Texas

February 25

This was my mom's mixer. She probably used it fewer than ten times. My dad said, "She always said her other mixer wasn't very good, and I finally talked her into getting this one."

After she died, I asked him if I could borrow it.

I can't think that I will ever part with this mixer: it was my mom's, after all.

(Go to my friend Jenifer's excellent blog - http://cleaninghouseamemoir.blogspot.com - and read her entry on February 17, 2009, for an explanation of why we keep our mothers' things.)

Lubbock, Texas

February 24

Stuff on the wall at Covenant Childrens Hospital

Don't ask.

Lubbock, Texas

February 23

People are always asking me "What, exactly, are the tools that you need for your job as a planning director?"*

They are: reports in binders (very important in other fields as well - see January 20 and February 11), a calculator, pens and pencils, a cell phone, memos, pages with numbers on them (I find 1,236,874 to be an extremely useful number to use), and a valuable reference book called A Dictionary of Bull****. This fine volume even includes matrices so you can build fabulous phrases like "We can force the patent onto the bottom line so we can focus on the product launch." or new job titles like Corporate Directives Director.

Lubbock, Texas

* Actually, no one has ever asked. But I know you are all wondering.

February 22

The birdhouse lives on the back fence - it's been there for maybe twenty years and has hosted many generations of new sparrows. Sometimes we've had to replace the floor. And now it's got that troublesome split by the front door.

Nathan made it in some kids program. We intend to take it with us when we move, but it may not last that long.

Lubbock, Texas

February 21

Part of the pumping xenia in my saltwater aquarium. They are my favorites - they look fluffy and their fronds continually open and close.

Lubbock, Texas

February 20

I know it's vandalism. I know I ought to disapprove.

But I really LIKE train graffiti.

Each new piece of rolling art opens up a lot of questions. How far has the car traveled since it was painted? Will the artist ever see it again? How long did it take? Was the design thought about in advance? Was it blocked out with chalk before being painted? Do they photograph their work?

And this one makes me wonder why the "A" is upside down, and if the artist will get to finish the dark outline on the A, I, N, and S. And then that makes me wonder if there is some kind of professional reciprocity amongst boxcar artists - will someone else finish outlining the letters?

And then I wonder if I will ever see VILLAINS again.

down by the tracks
Lubbock, Texas

February 19

I really like the feather grass in the front flower beds. It doesn't need much water or attention. And it produces fabulous drifts of golden grass that bow in the always-present wind.

You should get some for your yard - feather grass, I mean. Not wind.

Lubbock, Texas

February 18

Buddy Holly has a pretty dull view - a mostly-empty parking lot, and an intersection. Too bad that it's come to this.

Buddy Holly Center
Lubbock, Texas

February 17

I wore these shoes. All day.

Eight toes and my left instep are forming a delegation to evict these shoes from my wardrobe. (The other 4 toes are still too numb to join.)

Lubbock, Texas

February 16

St. Expiditus - Invoked against procrastination.

Pretty sure old St. Expi. doesn't work, or else I would have fixed his (her?) sagging frame before now.

Lubbock, Texas

February 15

We moved to our house in 1985, and Walter was already living across the street. He got married and had a daughter and his family and ours feel into an easy friendship. The kind where you just KNOW they can get your mail and feed the cat while you're gone. The kind where impromptu dinner invitations were the norm. The kind where we looked out for each other.

They sent us flowers when our 20-year-old cat died. They put Thanksgiving dinner in our refrigerator once when we were traveling home on the holiday. You know someone like that.

And, now they are moving to Tulsa: the SOLD sign makes it real.

It won't ever be a real neighborhood again.

Lubbock, Texas

February 14

This shell was always in my grandfather's living room. He lived his entire life in Kansas, Colorado, and the Texas Panhandle, so where did the shell come from?

Lubbock, Texas

February 13

There are approximately 2,789 corners in the bathroom. And not one of them is truly square.

Lubbock, Texas

February 12

Well, this is awkward: look how very clearly the dust shows up on the leaves of this plant!

If I didn't have such a firm commitment to put things in binders (see February 11) perhaps I could do some dusting....

Lubbock, Texas

February 11

As you can tell from this shelf, given the choice of writing or of sticking stuff in a binder, the binder wins. Every time.

Is that wrong?

Lubbock, Texas

February 10

Stein's is the best place to have lunch in all of Lubbock - and I am not just basing that on the amount of Tabasco.

Lubbock, Texas

February 9

Hemphill Wells used to be THE department store in town.

Ladies took their lunch at the Tea Room.

Brides selected china for their registry, saleswomen who'd been there for years carefully steering them towards the more tasteful selections.

Well-to-do and fashionable girls bought their school clothes there.

My mom and I looked at dresses there every summer and then stopped at Cloth World to get Butterick patterns to make copies of what we'd seen.  We didn't even fool ourselves.

All that's left of the store is the parking garage.

And I haven't sewn a dress in decades.

Lubbock, Texas

February 8

Look! An action shot of water from a spigot splashing onto rocks.

Yellowhouse Canyon, Texas

February 7

Part of my collection of LuRay dishes.  Sometimes, I use them.  Otherwise they use their spare time to serve as Art.

Lubbock, Texas

February 6

Something else I drive by every day... and finally actually LOOKED at it.

Lubbock, Texas

February 5

This is my Stealth Photo:  I took it really fast while my boss was poking dollars in the pay-parking slot.  It was easier than trying to explain this blog...

Fort Worth, Texas

February 4

A lattice, and a shadow of a lattice, on a wall in downtown Lubbock.

Lubbock, Texas

February 3

Normal people would go to the City of Lubbock cemetery on the 50th anniversary of Buddy Holly's death, park by his grave, and then visit it.

Which explains why I did all but the last:  I looked at the Charles Umlauf angel statue instead.

Lubbock, Texas

February 2

I once tried to take some photos in the Whole Foods store on Magazine Street in New Orleans; the store is in the old trolley barn.  The building is very interesting with high ceilings and exposed structures and all that cool stuff.

I wasn't even taking pictures of food - it was the old windows high under the eaves that captured my attention.

A manager asked me to put away the camera; I thought he was kidding but he was actually, as it turns out, quite serious.

So it was with a great sense of daring that I shot this photo in Market Street!

Lubbock, Texas

February 1

Giant smokestack west of Salt Lake City.

Salt Lake City, Utah

(posted at Albuquerque International Airport)