4 sale

house for sale, unappealing

pitch

I've been grumbling about many things. It's much like the old, bitching me. I then, after hours of walking, came across a truism. I am loved. I have much! I have the chance and ability to love others. I do love others.

It was a wild pitch ... grounding curve fast ball, yet ... I hit it. I got it. The ball is in flight. I don't see a homer, (doh!), but do see a possible double. God threw an idea to me and I got it!

cranky

many things line the roads, streets, roads ... muck, trash and stuff. One strange thing, a crushed handle -- crank to nothing. It's not crank, the drug, for that would have been snatched up like candy -- I think.

While some animals don't mind the interloping human, some critters get feisty. Generally the older squirrels look on humans with mild disdain for they drive the road and honk at squirrels to hurry while they would rather stand in the road and do nothing.

Not surprising, small dogs are the fiercest while older, larger dogs are either docile or disinterested in the aggressive game. I walked down an old road spying a house, interesting design. I never got to the end of the street for a lone dog was on a porch. I thought ... leash, but it had none.

Hmm ... it probably wasn't used to too many walkers in this area, so I wondered ... walk forward, back, hmmm. My actions were decided for me for she noiselessly glided across the lawn with some lumbering. There she was. I put down my camera allowing her to smell me, make a choice. She moved forward and at my scratch of her back -- uh.

She responded like an overburdened pack animal suddenly unloaded -- free of anything on her sore back. She was shedding and it clumped off in wads. She first had her head pushed into my chest, then tipped over so that I could rub her belly and chest equally. I lightly brushed fur from her eyes. I left her and she slowly walked back to the porch. She was in need of a bath -- days of dirt and skin oils, dry fur told her need for cleaning.

I heard more angry dog voices later. An old man with an older grass-cutting tractor slowed traffic. Remember the title, "cranky"? They were none-too pleased with the slowness of his short 4 house trip to his over-filled shed garage. A man mowing a church's lawn stopped his engine so that I could pass without getting tarred and feathered, grass style. How kind was that? I thanked him.

I was later at Foster Park and there was a couple of people behind me that I wanted to slap silly. Nearly telling everyone plainly, "We are so obnoxious! We want everyone to look at us! We are loud and crude. It doesn't matter if there are golfers nearby. We will be loud and one-third of our language profanity!" While this might have been nearly courtesy, instead, they were perhaps too stupid to notice their own inconsiderate behaviors. While the most of the people on the track were walking, quietly or talking to each other in quieted tones -- these three were, well, unlikeable. Now I was cranky.

Apart from the stank and stink of tobacco, my trip was nice. Foster Park hosting many walks of families of many ages. Some people in desperate need of walking were in their cars listening to music. I guess seeing flowers from a car seat is just as good, right? I guess moving your butt to change the CD track is like walking.

Why go there if you don't ever leave your car on a rainless day with a lovely sun, breeze, the smell of fresh new life?

Barbie ....

sorry, one photo in the last collection was Barbie. Rather than soil the collection, I'll note that I found it starkly ironic that near a middle school drive, I found this discarded Barbie. From my experience with kids ... it is equally likely that she was accidentally pitched with regular play in a car seat. She might also have been thrown in the curious flight ability of Barbie. Of course, unlike a boomerang, she didn't fly back.

why walk at all?

All courtesy of Allen County in Indiana. Some is from Foster Park, others from scatterred locations along roads. More to come, I assure you.















This was from a 15 mile day. Wow ... legs weren't tired, but my shoes hurt my feet. It's time for new ones, I think seriously.

born June 21, 1972; died ...

I was walking through a poorly-maintained cemetery. I don't know what was most scary. I wondered if there are always crows there. Crows are a common theme in horror movies and games and actually have a mythological symbolism with death. There were graves from 2007 that bore no grass. There were other 2000, 2002, 1998 graves that grew no grass. I hope that they were "relocated" to this place. There were markers broken and some overgrown with grass or buried in dirt. One was, as Tuko would call, "un-ck, un-ck"+ otherwise unknown as the cheap marker had -- ghastly, removable letters.

As I was leaving, a couple came up in a truck -- 8:40 something in the evening. There was hardly light. Still, as they sat in their truck, perhaps waving to the grave ... I wondered if they could have at least left the truck. I heard doors close, so perhaps they thought better of it. I find no joy in cemeteries, but interest. One grave site was the place of a decade(s)-old tree. Another ... a hodgepodge of markers, too many for one small place.

Another sight was large enough for three coffins. Either the one dead man there was REALLY large or they got sloppy.

The weirdest thing there really, was born some date and then the "awaiting" date for death. While I understand a loved one dying first ... there was a single plot waiting on its body. There was a couple who bought a plot, but were maybe 50s, neither were dead.

Sad to ponder were the young ... some 19, 13, few years ... some mere months or days. Still, many were forgotten, dirtied with time. Headstones for the living, but generally ignored.

+ The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly