This blog started as a geographic photo record of what ever I saw and I wanted to see all the fascinating streets and alleys that make up Key West. This view of Shavers Lane from 2009 is typical of the essays I have been doing since 2007, a mixture of Key West streets and Lower Keys landscapes. All of which will continue next month when http://TheKeyWestLocal.com picks up where Key West Diary and Old Town Key West leave off.
Shavers Lane lies west of Duval, and it has two notable bookends. Above one can see the north side of the Hemingway House on Olivia Street and below on the Petronia street end is the rather oddly named restaurant which sells desserts only called Better Than Sex:
In light of the fact that Key West is currently in a ferment over plans announced by the City Commission to hold a nude beach referendum, you'd think that a restaurant by such an unappetizing name might merit a referendum of it's own. No such luck. That and the ghastly Big 'Uns bar on Duval are here to stay apparently. Looking toward Olivia Street Shavers carries old time Key West charm, breeze block walls and bright lime paint:
Despite it's location in the heart of the city Shavers boasts vast open lots of land with tiny, elderly cottages perched on a corner of them: 
And it's own share of peculiar residents, or residents with peculiar senses of humor:
I don't have any such sign at my house but I belong to the big stick and less braggadocio school of thought. On the subject of trespassing I really wanted to invade this secret driveway but contented myself with a picture from a legal spot in the lane:
And this next cottage revealed itself a palace when viewed from two sides. Small and intimate from here:
Stretching all the way back into the next lot with a side apartment and deck when viewed from here:
Perhaps I haven't had my head in the air so much lately but when I spotted these sneakers I was once again reminded that people do the most inexplicable things. Urban legend has it the shoes may mark a drug delaing location. I am dubious because who needs to mark such things:
There are large lumpen buildings on Shavers too, this one artfully masked by greenery in bloom:
And these identical homes in the famous Conch Cottage style, though rather more spacious than Cuban cigar workers might have enjoyed:
The originals might have looked more like this:
Or this, which is high on the scale of cute:
And this a parting thought on the wall at the Petronia Street end:
To which demand I can only ask: why?
Shavers Lane lies west of Duval, and it has two notable bookends. Above one can see the north side of the Hemingway House on Olivia Street and below on the Petronia street end is the rather oddly named restaurant which sells desserts only called Better Than Sex:
In light of the fact that Key West is currently in a ferment over plans announced by the City Commission to hold a nude beach referendum, you'd think that a restaurant by such an unappetizing name might merit a referendum of it's own. No such luck. That and the ghastly Big 'Uns bar on Duval are here to stay apparently. Looking toward Olivia Street Shavers carries old time Key West charm, breeze block walls and bright lime paint:
Despite it's location in the heart of the city Shavers boasts vast open lots of land with tiny, elderly cottages perched on a corner of them: 
And it's own share of peculiar residents, or residents with peculiar senses of humor:I don't have any such sign at my house but I belong to the big stick and less braggadocio school of thought. On the subject of trespassing I really wanted to invade this secret driveway but contented myself with a picture from a legal spot in the lane:And this next cottage revealed itself a palace when viewed from two sides. Small and intimate from here:
Stretching all the way back into the next lot with a side apartment and deck when viewed from here:Perhaps I haven't had my head in the air so much lately but when I spotted these sneakers I was once again reminded that people do the most inexplicable things. Urban legend has it the shoes may mark a drug delaing location. I am dubious because who needs to mark such things:
There are large lumpen buildings on Shavers too, this one artfully masked by greenery in bloom:And these identical homes in the famous Conch Cottage style, though rather more spacious than Cuban cigar workers might have enjoyed:The originals might have looked more like this:
Or this, which is high on the scale of cute:And this a parting thought on the wall at the Petronia Street end:
To which demand I can only ask: why? 
When I asked the orthopedist who decorated his skeleton he looked at it in amazement and said "Oh, really? I never noticed" to howls of abuse from his office staff who took the time to make his offices look nice. Ted Collins is actually quite a decent guy and gave my wife a couple of prescriptions and an admonishment to take it easy for three weeks. No chance.
My wife's health insurance through the school district kept the charge down to an entirely bearable $20 and we exchanged a few thoughts about motorcycling with his very keen office person (and rider). We left the office with our hearts still beating though in one sense we did check out properly.
And so to the proper seasonal pictures for this time of year. Staples Avenue off 12th Street came well equipped with fantastic arrays of light and color and whimsy. 
Wayne and Chuck had talked about being up between two am and three am to watch the full lunar eclipse, the first such on the winter solstice since the seventeenth century. Something like that. Anyway I was, to my shame, pretty much not that interested in the whole two ante-meridien project, a time when I like to be sound asleep when I'm not working. Then the Fates took a hand and wouldn't you know it I woke up needing to pee at 2:17 am. Not one to fight destiny I wandered out into the freezing cold night and there it was, a gradually fading moon. My gorillapod to balance the camera was not to hand but of course I had to give it my best shot, by hand, as though to prove I was there if nothing else. And so I was.
My wife watched for a while but it was cold out there on the deck, less than 60 degrees (15 C) which for us is cold. I left the red moon to do it's thing as the white crescent grew slowly back. Three o'clock in the morning is a very antisocial hour for an eclipse in my opinion. 
I stop by here for the stories (not the pictures...).
Any used bookstore that has a decent proportion of the famous orange spines of Penguin editions can't be all bad in my prejudiced opinion.
Er, I took this picture to illustrate the broadness of my photography, not my mind (on top of all my other mental issues I am not hoping for better in any unlikely next life). I know I'm a philistine but I can't help it. Just be reassured if you come to Key West and want to get up to speed on the afterlife there is a section devoted to it in the booth behind the nudie magazines.
Silly me, I did! 
They were having a sale on comic books. Need I point out this is not my cup of tea? I told you I was a bore.
If it ain't Tintin I don't care. They sell normal magazines by the rack load too. I'm sorry to say my illiterate dog likes books with pictures. Her former owners have much to answer for.
