Me, age 7: glasses (white, pearly, cat-eye), braids (white-blonde, long because I'd never had a haircut), bangs (well, they'd been cut, unevenly, too short, and goofy because of a cowlick right in front), freckles (which don't grow together into a tan, no matter how much you want them to), and a summer outfit my mom made.
The outfit would have been red seersucker. There would have been a sleeveless top that buttoned up the back. With red buttons (my mom loved that kind of detail). The bottom of the top would have had red rick-rack trim. The shorts, which probably came nearly to my (scabby) knees, had an elastic waist, and were also trimmed at the hem with rick-rack.
This red and white awning reminded me of seersucker and rick-rack.
And, "rick-rack" is a LOT of fun to type. Give it a try: you'll see what I mean.
The original location of the famous Stubb's Bar-B-Q, on East Broadway. Stubb was famous for his food, and for his support of struggling local musicians, many of whom went on to big careers.
Wikipeida: In 1968, he opened his first restaurant, “Stubb's Bar-B-Q” on East Broadway in Lubbock, Texas. In the 70’s and early 80’s, the Sunday Night Jams held in his small restaurant hosted such musicians as Jessie "Guitar" Taylor, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Joe Ely, Terry Allen, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Muddy Waters, Tom T. Hall, B. B. King and George Thorogood.
This is another building that I glance at every time I go by. I was initially attracted by the red door, but that's mostly faded away now. (The red paint, I mean.) My current favorite thing about it is the way you can see the smudge on the door's kickplate. It's been pushed open by thousands of shoes. Or (this is the way it is in my mind) steel-toed boots.
I was busy today. I made pickled jalapenos, tomato marmalade, ketchup, zucchini bread, and this jalapeno jelly - all the produce was in my share this week from the CSA at the South Plains Food Bank.
I was riding the bus today - Route 12, in case you to take the same trip - and saw this mural. No time, of course, to photograph it from the bus, so we drove all the way across town this evening to take its picture.
It is rather fabulous.
Erskine Avenue Lubbock, Texas
(PS - My friend Brian tells me that "Haya Busa" is a 200 mph Suzuki.)
Maybe it's just me, but this place strikes me as more creepy than fun. That dark tunnel of an entrance, for one thing. And those claws of dead branches, looking like fingers trying to pluck the "L" from the sign. Oh, and the clown...
Years ago - fewer than 15, but surely more than 10 - I saw a vignette: from the Interstate, I saw a man and a woman walking through the headstones displayed at the monument company. At the precise instant that I happened to look toward them, the man reached out and took the woman's hand. As they continued to walk slowly along the displayed markers, I drove on and they were lost to me.
But that fraction of a second has stayed with me, and I do not pass that place without thinking of the poignant gesture.
This is that building, abandoned now, except for vague dents in the ground from the weight of the markers and tall sliding doors on the end, big enough for a forklift and a headstone.
The power lines, marching away from the power plant on the horizon, line up with the tidy rows of cotton - that's what caught my eye today. Even though I'd driven past this spot countless times, I never noticed it until this afternoon.
Plan view of most of my collection of Russel Wright dinnerware, in a groovy chartreuse.
Here's what www.modfather.com had to say about Mr. Wright:
It's all true: Russel Wright beat Martha Stewart to the punch by 50 years. The first designer to successfully market his wares using his own name as a well-defined brand, Wright rode the crest of the Modernist wave for over 20 years. And he did it all -- furniture, accessories, dishes, glassware, table linens, art pottery, and much, much more. There were many famous and fabulous industrial designers working successfully in the 1930s, 40s and 50s, but nobody brought modern sensibilities to the masses to the extent Wright did. His permeation of the American consciousness at such an early time is truly extraordinary.
The rain, what rain we had, didn't come at the right time or in the right amount. As a result, the dryland farmer south of us has a huge field of plowed dirt instead of cotton.
(Just a few feet from where I stood to take this picture: a rattlesnake.)
My grape crop for the year. If things go as usual, the birds will eat the grapes. (At least I think they eat them - I never heard of birds making grape jelly. Or wine.)
Another in the series of vacant buildings in downtown. I can't tell what this used to be, and the stickers on the window don't offer any helpful clues: two parking stickers from Lubbock General Hospital, a Knights of Columbus sticker, and a National Rifle Association sticker. It was helpful that they were placed on the outside of the glass, though, so the whitewash on the windows didn't cover them up.
My friends who love hot weather will appreciate this: the west-facing wall of this brick building soaks up LOTS of heat during the day, and by afternoon it is like standing beside a furnace. It's the kind of heat that seems to sizzle the hairs on your arm.
One of my earliest memories is of my parents staying up late to process slides in the kitchen. I can still remember the first photograph I took - of a rock, with a mountain in the background. In college, I was almost positive I was going to be the next Ansel Adams.
All of which has led me here.
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