Saturday afternoon felt class

I enrolled Emily and Laura for a small object felting class at the Art Academy, Saturday.

We arrived right on time, noon.

The girls went in.  I stopped for a picture.

The front doors are flanked with pots of hosta  and violas.

Inside I found everyone confused. The class is next week.

 Back outside and another picture of a table and chair grouping I admire.

Comfortable?

We passed sandwich boards on the way announcing

Skip's Peninsula Junction.

There are only two Skips in town and I know both.  So which one?

This used to be a junk yard and transfer station.  

Now it's clean enough to please your grandmother.

This is one side of the yard.  The retaining wall blocks have a history.

When concrete trucks come back from a job the extra concrete is dumped into waiting forms.

I've seen these kinds of blocks in many applications; now I know how they come to be.

This is a business on the other side of Skip's yard.

I'm sure it makes a lot of people smile.

Skip hopes to turn his yard into a weekend market.

There was one vendor when we arrived, shortly after noon.

Nina's husband, Wayne. The man who slipped the money plant seeds into my car.

And one food vendor, Pierogies.  

Wayne had a bird house I coveted, but I only had $20 of the $30 in my wallet.

And two little girls departed for pierogies with $10.

Not a problem.  We would go home for the check book.

When we returned Wayne, on the right, was refusing to sell my bird house to the nice couple.

Skip, he didn't say nothin', although he was appealed to, also, to change Wayne's mind.

This fellow I see around town stopped to say hello, and let me take a picture.

We left Skip's Peninsula Junction, with the birdhouse and change.

Why go home; we could go the other way and buy ice cream.

This vehicle had a fine mud patina and says on the window

So you like mud, Huh?

Finally heading home, we passed this fellow on Truxell Road.

Thanks to Emily for the fine picture.

I pass him often; I use Truxell to go to work.

Linda wants a bicycle like this.

The bird house.  That old barn board is at least 18" wide.

No trees like that left around here.

See the eyes and the nose?

No wonder that other fellow wanted it.

Thanks, Wayne.

Hamilton hung it about six feet up, across from the wren nest in the studio window.

That wren is so polygamous; he supports nests all over our back 40.

So, here's a double decker for him.

Slate roof and everything.