What got me started on this? Oh. Yes. I was about to share another batch of pictures from the last few days, and I thought, Why am I posting these? What do I have to say about this assortment of cats, flowers, and house-paint photographs? And it's quite possible I have no good reason at all, beyond the simple notion that we've had some nice moments this week, moments when I had to take a picture, because I wanted to hold a memory, an experience, faces, feelings, and remember them, keep them where I could revisit them, and feel thankful, connected.
Lately, I've been thinking... Chickenblog is real. There is no "fake news" here. I am not gathering your data for my spy network, and I don't try to grab your attention with sensationalized headlines, and pages of pop-up ads. I feel kind of happy that I didn't let this become a Yoga-Mom-Cosmetics-Fashion-Gossip blog with all sponsored content, and glossy pictures. I am even relieved that I am still coming in under the radar, doing my own thing, not corporate. Good or bad, I can enjoy that as blogs come and go, we are simple and sincere, and uniquely our own.
Alex and I were visiting a shop with lots of salvaged funk and found treasures, and when I saw this sign, I was reminded of another Garden of Weeden sign, back in Massachusetts. I am always thankful to be reminded of my dear friend, and our many connections, and moments of synchronicity, and serendipity.
Cairo Approves. That's what I am calling my interior design shop, or my decorating style. I bring it home, because I like it, then the cat checks it out, and if he approves, it stays. It's quite eclectic, as you might imagine.
Everyday I pass a nondescript section of roadside embankment, but now there's lupine growing there, and it's made the small section breathtaking. Traffic moves at a good clip on this road, and it could be easy to miss the wildflowers, which is why I am glad I decided to stop. I pulled off the road, and wound my way around to a spot above the embankment, where I could get out and approach the tall stalks of purple blooms. Cars and trucks whiz by at highway speed, and the meadow of wildflowers, is only a seven square foot patch, at most, but their beauty and resilience give me the feeling of being in the middle of a field, a broad and open space, and I can make-believe that the flowers grow on from horizon to horizon.
They did it, too. They got into Grant's Bananamobile and headed east, to the Yeti in the desert, to iron giant dragons and insects, to a Salton Sea, and Salvation Mountain, and to the place where everyone knows Grant's name... the International Banana Museum. Their quest for the ultimate in singular fruit expression was epic. Really, really epic.
This guy. He's on his way to Tokyo, the sensei. When I get a chance, I would love to post some of the pictures from the Epic Banana Split. You could not write a wilder, nuttier send-off for a great friend and adventurer. We won't say good-bye... but, see you later.
It happened that many events were landing on the first of the month, including the celebrated return of the Banana Bunch, Easter, our cats' birthday celebration, and April Fool's day. And really, due to the extreme nuttiness of the Epic Banana Split, the greater part of the day was spent in recovery and mellowness. There was some artistic painting, some sketching, more napping, more flower and house paint appreciation, a burger dinner, friends dropping by, a little CnC talk, and a bit of Gaslight Gathering planning. All in all, this day was not bananas.