Thursday, November 10, 2011


The paving of Highway One continues in the middle of the night between Sugarloaf Lodge and Sugarloaf Middle School. It is a pain in the butt to have the flow of the ride interrupted but it is most decidedly not a pain in the butt having a smooth black highway to ride after they are done.

With the news of the defeat of anti union legislation Up North and the repudiation of the nonsensical foetal citizenship bill in Mississippi one has to hope that one day government public work will be seen for what it is: indispensable. As I sat at the stop sign with the engine turned off a mental deficient in a black SUV came the other way and leaned out of the window to warn me in stentorian tones that my headlight was OFF. Not the headlight, but the engine was off as I waited for the interminable roadblock to open. Why waste gas? I wonder if he was smart enough to thank the gods we have money enough to rebuild public roads. Probably not if he doesn't think about these things much.

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Loitering Day And Night

Cheyenne was loitering of course but at the base of the tree on Caroline Street.

I think the author was worried about local homeless people sitting around drinking and enjoying the mild winter weather. I did no such thing, for I was merely a respectable dog walker.

A few hours later I was once again loitering in the area struggling to hand capture an almost full moon. Loitering is indeed a magnificent way to pass a Florida afternoon.

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It could have been a cougar with wet paws, coming out of the swamp primeval, padding across the deserted highway looking for a plump piece of dessert to finish off a day spent frolicking in the mangroves.

There was decidedly a wildcat on the loose, which reminds me of the story about how you know there have been elephants in the fridge. "Footprints in the butter."

Spotted at last!

Is she dangerous? Only if you're food.

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Public Art

We stopped by Habitat in Big Pine and because I had my camera I was forced, as usual to observe and not just to see.

Unconsidered trifles made good.

It is not a prepossessing spot but they have made something attractive of something good. Odd isn't it how some Luddites oppose art in public places.

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Coming And Going

Cheyenne was hunting unconsidered trifles on the fishing bridge. I was dividing my attention between the newspaper and the scenery. Towing fees were the hot topic of the day in Key West.

I am a little jaundiced when it comes to watching other people enjoying their boats. My boating summer was not a great success this year thanks to a balky outboard.

The water is below my threshold of eighty degrees for comfortable swimming so boating season is mover for me in any event by this time of year.

Not everyone is as fussy as am I.

Hunting fish is a year round pastime around here.

I don't have the patience to pit my wits against those of the fish. Besides, I might come out second best in any such contest...

These visitors from Ohio were kept busy by numerous lines and poles and buckets and things.

"Does she bite?" the timorous lady angler asked as Cheyenne approached her. "Only food," I reassured her. I put Cheyenne on her leash around anglers. She is excessively fond of stealing their bait which she considers to be food. Personally I prefer watching the boats to eating wet squid.

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