MadJack (
Above Solaris Hill) wanted obscure lanes (all gathered in one place- ha! not bloody likely at this late stage...) and here I have my entry for among the most obscure. Eanes Lane (pronounce it how you will, something like "innes" is the best I can come up with and police officers on their rounds mangle it much worse than that) lies between Whitehead Street to the west...
...and Duval Street to the east...
...off Truman Avenue. This lane is obscure enough there isn't even a city street name attached to the pole anymore and I suspect, judging by the calligraphy the blue sign that is on the pole was put there by the owners of the Inn which is bang at the end of the street shrouded by trees and practically invisible. To find Andrews Inn is an act of faith. To park on this lane is an act of foolishness:
And even for residents the on street parking situation appears to be a squeeze, though it may just be in this case that the bush is alive, I tell you, and hungry:
I'm not at all sure how effective an over sized lace doily is as a sunshade but it sure looks cute on this Fiat Spyder:
This sign says no parking in driveway but I suppose a bicycle can get away with it:
Personally I'd rather keep a valuable car out of the sun than my useless junque, but I am frequently not heeded on that point:
And long before my boat grows ivy I hope it will be long gone from my life:
And I cannot imagine who it is that thinks that their home is enhanced by a sign flapping in the breeze over their cute little porch. Has any sober person ever mistaken a porch for a public park?
While I was standing there contemplating the vagaries of human nature I observed a camera laden tourist behaving as a person should with a camera, photographing something cute:
And so I close this essay with a panorama of a lane whose length encompasses hardly a block:
Not necessarily pretty but certainly obscure.
...and Duval Street to the east...
...off Truman Avenue. This lane is obscure enough there isn't even a city street name attached to the pole anymore and I suspect, judging by the calligraphy the blue sign that is on the pole was put there by the owners of the Inn which is bang at the end of the street shrouded by trees and practically invisible. To find Andrews Inn is an act of faith. To park on this lane is an act of foolishness:
And even for residents the on street parking situation appears to be a squeeze, though it may just be in this case that the bush is alive, I tell you, and hungry:
I'm not at all sure how effective an over sized lace doily is as a sunshade but it sure looks cute on this Fiat Spyder: 
Personally I'd rather keep a valuable car out of the sun than my useless junque, but I am frequently not heeded on that point:
And long before my boat grows ivy I hope it will be long gone from my life:
And I cannot imagine who it is that thinks that their home is enhanced by a sign flapping in the breeze over their cute little porch. Has any sober person ever mistaken a porch for a public park?
While I was standing there contemplating the vagaries of human nature I observed a camera laden tourist behaving as a person should with a camera, photographing something cute: 
And so I close this essay with a panorama of a lane whose length encompasses hardly a block:
Not necessarily pretty but certainly obscure. 
11 comments:
The simple beauty of the abstruse, ambiguous, arcane, concealed, enigmatic, esoteric, hidden, illegible, indeterminate, indistinct, inscrutable, insoluble, intricate, opaque, and recondite.
Here is hoping the bush quickly covers the ford taurus so that is doesn't continue to detract from the beauty of the lane. At least they tried to cover the Spyder with a doily :)
-Peace
Dear Conch:
You may be surprised to learn that in other parts of the free world, East Goshen, Pa, for example, there are ordinances that prohibit the raising of farm animals on the public street. Other laws prohibit the indisciminate use of table cloths to conceal aging motor vehicles.
Some attribute this lrevelof municipal despotism to a large influx of Amish extremists, however.
Then again, it is my understanding that the doily could have been event-wear for the locale.
I was under the impression that residents hung "no trespasing" signs on their porches to cut back on the number of tourists who occasionally sleep al fresco, urinate in the gardens, and wash in the bird baths.
To commemorate the 1,000,000th installment of Key West Diary that I will have read, I am preparing a special issue of "Twisted Roads" called "Oyster Lane." I may ask several who post here to contribute a little something.
Fondest regards, and congratulations on your 1,000,000th posting.
Sincerely,
Jack "reep" Toad
Twisted Roads
Mr Conchscooter said: " . . . and police officers on their rounds mangle it much worse than that) lies . . . "
for such a short block there seems to be a lot of police activity. Perhaps it is not safe to be wandering about, unaccompanied.
bob
bobskoot: wet coast scootin
Hey peace boy- hitting the thesaurus pretty hard huh?
riepe- it is nice of you to think about comemorating me in any way at all especially in your advanced state of decomposition, but you've got about 999,200 posts to go.I doubt you can wait that long but I will enjoy the love on the way there. East Goshen probably doen't have a nude beach either.Must be a great place to vegetate.
bobskoot- this is the US and nothing is safe even for those of us who have accomplished the impossible by pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps (how exactly...?). We ride motorcycles with the ever present threat of impossibly large hospital bills hanging over our heads, we consume mountains of drugs to ease the pain of daily living and we are required to despise our democracy even though we are told it is the finest anywhere.Between such contradictions and nirvana thetre lies only a thin blue line keeping us whole.
Florida isn't Bellingham you SOB.
Dear Conch:
There is a nude beach in East Goshen, but it is "Amish Only." Women are required to wear their bonnets, which drives the men crazy.
I am planning to visit the nude beach in Key West on my visit.
Fondest regards,
Toad
From what I have been told, if the buggy is a rockin' don't come a knockin' - apparently the Amish youth sow some wild oats before settling into a brotherly lifestyle (or at least ones in Ohio).
Can't wait to see you in your bonnet.
Love Badger.
In retrospect, I am guessing the poor soul put the taurus out by the curb for trash day. Yeah, that has to be it.
-Peace
The doilie is for Jack's arrival in Key West. It will be an honorary Nude Amish bonnet. Please wear it with proper pride.
I like the obscure street. It's a lot like me. It likes to be left alone in solitude. It's slightly dangerous. And I love chicken, fried, or baked!
"And I love chicken, fried, or baked!" --
Irondad, on behalf of the Chicken Lady (who now lives elsewhere - on the mainland, I think) please don't eat the tourist attractions when in KW.
Thank you.
Dear KWBound:
I think that chicken would be proud to become a DION chicken, and . . .
Jack"r"IEPE:
At least we will be able to recognize you if you decided to wear Irondad's Doilie. I would imagine you would blend into the background without it.
Conchscooter:
I'm thinking you are jealous. You want to become an SOB too
bob
bobskoot: wet coast scootin
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