Around Ansonia

Into the Ansonia Court this weekend for a 4-year old's princess birthday party. They have pictures of the old factory hanging in the Court's entryway, but I wish they'd put up some images of the amazing clocks they once fashioned there. Back before the court was lined with trees, I imagine. I never noticed how all the trees planted every three yards around the courtyard have limbs that grow nearly straight up in most cases. A good choice for the tight space.

I asked Russell if he knew what the green stuff growing on this 12th St. tree could be. He said barley. Once I told him about it he kept calling it Lincoln instead of lichen and cracking up. He wanted to take some home, but I didn't have anything to put it in and didn't feel like putting it in my pocket. Perhaps I had my karmic retribution when a gel pen spilled its ink in my pocket, coating 2 of my fingers with a glittery blue patina.

Chevy View

How do you make a car like this one I saw on 12th St. last so long? It's a rare thing, like the depth of that front yard. I rode around in a car like that about 40 years ago, with no car seats, maybe not even seat belts, hot sticky vinyl, cigarette lighter, ashtray, and road rage, which existed long before we called it that. I'm wondering if drivers ever got as hostile driving carriages, buggies and phaetons. Maybe when there was traffic, broken wheels, skittish horses, splattering mud and manure.

The Juliet and the Camelot

Here stands The Juliet on 12th Street. I will call it she. She is impossible to ignore. She says "Here I am, move over floor-throughs," as she dances with a huge grin on the corpse of the past. Ok, that's a little strong, sorry.

She appears to have elbowed her way to the front of the block with an attitude of enormous expectation. Where for art thou, Romeo?

Not far away stands a more humble building called The Camelot. Perhaps this building proves what Arthurian scholar Norris. J Lacy once wrote: "Camelot, located nowhere in particular, can be anywhere."