One Tree and Two Wrong Turns

I was driving around on Sunday looking for poorly-planted trees and hit the mother lode at the Home Depot in King of Prussia. Pretty much every tree there has about 18 inches of mulch piled up on the poor little tree, which causes moisture to rot the trunk. Then fungus gets in and then insects, and then you have a dead tree -- sad, really. So for everyone out there, this is not good. You have been warned.

Anyhow, I made a wrong turn into a carpool parking lot which was also apparently a bus stop. A bike rack was there for all the cyclists, but instead of bikes on the rack there were not 1 but 2 devices to help the mobility-impaired among us. A wheelchair and a walker were both locked to the rack. My guess is that these folks wheel themselves to the bus stop, get off here, and go right to the liquor store which is the only thing around. Crazy.

If you are sensitive to foul language don't scroll down any further, but I couldn't resist sharing. A few weeks ago I made a wrong turn and saw this graffiti:

Apparently I make a lot of wrong turns. Gotta love Philly and the graffiti, although I'm not sure where whores are not supposed to go -- and what if you aren't driving a car with windows* to smash?

*or more accurately, your "window's" what?

Me in a tree

Part of my internship involves putting together a project, and I decided to focus on visitor education. Specifically, education about how and what arborists do. Below is a photo of me  moving around in a tree when the rope is tied-in in a high central location.  I'm trying to illustrate how placing the rope in a high, central position gives a lot of flexibility for moving around in the tree. (Enjoy the image -- it took me a while to get the basics of Photoshop down so go easy on my editing.)

Acquisitions

First things first, to the far right in the photo below you will see the latest addition to our string art collection: a string art golfer. Actually, it's copper wire so maybe I can't call it string art. If you were able to look a bit more closely you would see that a golf tee sits in each corner of the frame. Ah-May-Zing! The only piece of string art that can top a golfer is an owl. I've only ever heard stories of this mythical beast and hope to one day own this elusive creature.

Next is a book I stumbled across in a Nashville thrift store. I won't say much but it caught my eye as I'm currently in job search mode, so the words 'profit' and 'how to' just jumped out to me.

As far as personal life, job prospects include profiting from the rapture, trimming trees, teaching in Philadelphia public schools, and/or scheming a job at the Arboretum. Hopefully one of these prospects works out.

Overheard: Poet vs. Novelist

I caught this on Studio 360 this morning:

It's funny because it's (mostly) true.

Boom, zoom

In the "'60s at 50" exhibit currently installed in the library, one can find these gems:

Yes, folks, that is indeed an inner helmet that was part of an Apollo mission, a pair of gloves from Project Mercury, and a sort of family photo of astronaut all-stars. It's amazing how low-tech this stuff looks now, like you could basically make something you thought looked moon-worthy and launch it out there. Craft night, anyone?

Nashville

So last weekend I had the chance to visit Sharon in Nashville, which was amazing. We checked out the Country Music Hall of Fame, the Parthenon, Dino's dive bar, and Monell's restaurant, and I met some of Sharon's div school friends. Oh, and there was a completely destructive stint in the kitchen which claimed the lives of (1) glass pie pan which exploded from sitting on a hot burner, (1) Pyrex measuring cup which was dive-bombed by a kamikaze peanut butter jar from the cabinet above -- which also almost took the life of (1) bowl of dough for sweet rolls (they were miraculously saved by the unflappable Sharon). The same jar of peanut butter fell from the same shelf on two separate occasions to wreak havoc, whaa--? But on to the photos, enough of these words....

CASH!

Tammy Wynette liked pigs, but who doesn't?

Athena, bigger than life (well, actually that is life-sized for her), holding Nike and both gleaming in 24-carat gold.

Sh, the government is trying to think! This is one of the fine books in the government info collection at the library where Sharon works. In December 1972 the Man had no way of detecting marijuana in blood or urine, but it looks like there were steps taken to change that. We've come a long way.

Over and out from Nashadelphia, the music city of brotherly love.

One free thing led to another.

Since I moved to Nashville I've been trying to attend as many films as possible offered through the Vanderbilt-Belcourt Theatre partnership called Faculty-Led Interactive Cinematic eXplorations (FLICX). The screenings are free for students who pre-register (and agree to stick around for the post-film discussion) and yes, it's about as nerdy as it sounds. But I love movies, independent theaters (especially those so conveniently located), and most of all free admission, so this program was basically designed for me.

Because I've attended so many of these (okay, not a lot, but a solid handful), the program director offered me a free ticket to a Sundance preview featuring an appearance by the director. What's that? And there will be free popcorn? Yes please.

Christopher Munch was on hand to introduce his new film, Letters from the Big Man, which is about a human-Sasquatch friendship in the Pacific Northwest. Aside from a few unfortunate intrusions of plot, the film was evocative and character-driven and not as cheesy as it sounds. Mostly recommended.