Poorhouse Lane

Poorhouse Lane is a name that frequently evokes a grin. It sounds slightly daft in this day and age, but getting sent to the poorhouse in the 19th century was a dire fate on either side of the Atlantic Ocean. All that's left of the Key West poorhouse is the name, on the lane that fronts the cemetery at Windsor Lane:

Poorhouse Lane is one of three entrances to Bill Butler Park, written about previously in this bog. There are no benches in the park thanks to the collective punishment mentality that wants to deny the park to idlers, thus preventing others from resting there. And dog walkers are a common sight in this part of Old Town:
I was quite impressed by the canopy towering above my wife's borrowed Vespa.

And in the land of endless warnings and no trespassers we have a minor variation, "caution with the dog" doesn't carry quite the menace of the English language equivalent:
I was wondering at this next house who it was gets the step ladder out when the cook calls out for a handful of chives? Perhaps it's just grass growing up there - the lawn type I mean, not the smoking kind:
Poorhouse is a decidedly odd lane. I next found, rather like Alice in Wonderland, a cat behaving like a dog, I was quite surprised it didn't cock it's leg at the end of it's inspection:

Up above a taste of summer, those Bahama shutters thrust provocatively forward, offering shade and airflow, or at least airflow if the air conditioning were on the blink:

Of course no parking in the little alley, which is why I keep saying off street parking is so important in downtown Key West:

And in my continuing search for the Art of the Peculiar I found this thing that looks like a car tag but clearly is not. What it is I couldn't rightly say, but it appears to originate in Brazil which is exotic enough for most people:

Some people might dream of Copacabana, but others lust...

...after the simple life, a bicycle, a shady porch and thee, their little Conch cottage, Brazilian beaches be damned!