Go figure

The accountant. (Photo by Katy Buchanan)

It's tax season.

Despite meticulous record keeping over the year, preparing our returns always involves lots of paperwork, receipts, etc., spread out over the dining room table. (No room in the office ... so, why do we have an office? Question for another day.)

The cat is always pleased to contribute to the prep (just not financially).

Any refund will be used for kibble.

Almost done. Then, it will be time for a nap! (Or a bath.)

Of Oz and Wonderland

With apologies to Lewis Carroll

"All in a gloomy afternoon
Full fearfully we hide ..."

I found the Mad Hatter's chapeau in my driveway this morning, perhaps flung there by the Queen of Hearts. Or to claim a Wizard of Oz metaphor, dropped there like a house by a tornado.

(What? Oh, sorry. Back to Wonderland. Hatter interruptus.)

I like to think that the Hatter, the March Hare and Alice are continuing on with their very mad tea party this evening. Because, really, how else can one deal with this ridiculous February weather?

Besides going down a rabbit hole, I mean.

A walk through ancient mythology

Almost every day, I go for a walk in my neighborhood, for about 35 minutes. Usually the same route; but sometimes, I vary it by taking it in the opposite direction. No matter which way, it's good exercise because my neighborhood is especially hilly.

There's a middle school nearby, which normally doesn't signify because I'm mostly out and back by 2:30 p.m.

Got a late start today, though, so passed by lots of tweens lugging giant packs on their backs, or carrying cases with musical instruments. Or both.

At one intersection, I'm heading downhill, and the cross street, to my left, heads down as well.

Here is what I witnessed.

To my left, top of the cross street, three tween girls be-backpacked and bunched together, screaming at a boy child fleeing them down the street and across the intersection. Their words were "And don't ever bother us again!"

As this boy fled, he passed, to my right and across the street, four other boys, much bigger than him. Eighth-grade, I guess? Totally oblivious; from the bit of conversation I overheard they were making plans for the evening.

So I'm calling this tableau "The Harpies, the Mortal and the Young Gods."

Through thin paper, or Reflective, Yes, but Up to a Point

Pages 15 and 16, New York Times, January 27, 2019, through the sunlight.

On a very cold Wednesday, I was catching up to the Sunday New York Times Arts & Leisure section of Jan. 27, 2019, holding it between fingers, the pages spread wide (me wearing my readers). The day was sunny for a change, and light brightened the living room through the picture window. At page 15 of the 16-page section is a story about 21-year-old rapper Kodak Brown. Two photos, one a portrait the other a performance shot, accompany the story. Flip to the next and final page, 16, and there is a story about 78-year-old painter Pat Steir. Four photos, a small portrait, a large image of her "Barnes" series and a couple of detail shots, flesh out the story.
I skimmed both articles, the one about the painter last, and held up the last page to see the Stier photos more closely, then flipped back.
Turns out, newsprint and the ink used to make newspapers, have some magical qualities. One is transparency (and the irony of using the words newspapers and transparency at this particular point in time is not lost on me, but I'm not getting into those weeds right now).
When the paper is held up to the light, the images meld together.
I think the headline for the story about Kodak Brown, "Reflective, Yes, but Up to a Point" captures what happens when the photos from pages 15 and 16 meet in the sunshine.
Here are the pages as they look unreflected.

The original photographs were by Gerardo Mora and Ike Edeani.

Of Bradbury and Bukowski

Stopped on the way home Tuesday night at a beer warehouse. Not crowded, which is unsurprising for a warehouse place in a tiny, rush-hour strip that has a Subway and Advance Autoparts. Took my purchase to checkout and noticed the clerk had two books, splayed spine side up and resting on top of each other at the checkout counter. "Farenheit 451" by Bradbury and something by Charles Bukowski.

I raised my eyebrows and he laughed, saying sometimes he needed to get out of the darkness of Bukowski and into the ... more easiness (paraphrasing) of Bradbury (?) Also, guess it's boring waiting for customers.

Both books, by the way, looked pretty dog-eared. I've read lots of Bradbury, no Bukowski. My Bradburys are pretty dog-eared, too.

Not even going to attach a pic of Farenheit 451 ... because this guy's copy was clearly vintage. Wish I had asked if OK to take a photo, but I was tired and in a hurry (though I couldn't help but notice his reading material!)

On Third Avenue in Pittsburgh

Katy Buchanan

Among the contributions that immigrants created in Pittsburgh is this. Many years ago, a former co-worker from China, in a lovely gesture, invited his Pittsburgh Post-Gazette coworkers to a reception here that followed his child's wedding. The people he worked with at the time were his family, far from home. He and his wife were so nice at the party, and so gracious. I think it speaks a lot to how welcoming America can be that my former colleague felt comfortable enough to allow coworkers to stand in for family and friends far away. (In the background is Duquesne University, on what is known as The Bluff). 

Between worlds

Watched "City on the Edge of Forever," the Harlan Ellison Star Trek award-winning classic a few nights ago. Apparently H.E. hated it. But in reading reviews of the episode, it struck me that the character of The Guardian (who lives where McCoy, Kirk, Spock, Uhura, Scotty, et. al, land in a place in-between), is very similar to The Wood Between the Worlds in "The Magician's Nephew" episode of C.S. Lewis' "Chronicles of Narnia."
A place in between, where choices, and pasts and futures, are made and, maybe, changed.
Here is Pauline Baynes' illustration of the Wood Between the Worlds from "The Magician's Nephew." Polly & Digory meet one very interesting character in one of their leaps from pond to pond in the Wood Between the Worlds. And there are rings involved. And by the way Pauline Baynes was an extraordinary illustrator.

Pauline Baynes