Flying Pigs? Why not??

Basements, especially unfinished, dank, poorly lit ones have a way of etching themselves, their mildew, their sepia, their very essence into our souls when we are children, never to be forgotten and only to be enhanced and magnified as we age.

They draw us into the unknown, the forbidden, the pith of what supports our lives above ground. They reveal Truth to us individually, completely. They become knowledge. 

They might be the place where adults disappear into, sometimes for long periods of time, sometimes to quickly emerge with firewood, folded clothes, or some object never before seen by young eyes. They might be a place where we are left alone to consider the ramifications of our actions. 

They might be the place where we first learn to balance on a bike, or where we first see a really ugly painting, or where we experience real fright for the very first time.

Then and now, they beckon and warn us like foghorns whisper to sailors in dense fog: Come closer; the shoal is near! 

Open It

Finn of County Middlesex enjoys a gift from Poppy. 

Halibut visits his country cousin--Rosie of County Fairfield

Halibut has been living out of a suitcase ever since leaving County Santa Cruz more than five weeks ago. During that time he has stayed in County Middlesex for two weeks, visited County Dukes at Martha's Vineyard for ten days, camped at County Lamoille in Vermont for five days, and most recently he has paid a visit to his country cousin, Rosie of County Fairfield in Connecticut. Rosie has shared her yard, her kibble, and many other possessions freely and with grace, and Halibut is much obliged, gratified, and indebted. He will no doubt aspire to return the hospitality in good time.  

Big Trees

Finn finds freedom in the space between two trees planned by Frederick Law Olmsted in Montreal's Parc Mont Royal. 

Looking East--Shooting Utopia

Finn at East Beach, Chappaquiddick, Dukes, Martha's Vineyard, MA, USA

Chappaquiddick > cheppiaquidne > Chaubaqueduck > Chappaquidgick: "separated island," or "sometimes an island." Possible utopia. 

Finn@eastbeach.utopia: Shadow, silhouette, fully saturated, highly contrasted, emptiness, purple. Wave and particle. Expand. Embody Grace.

New *Shell Phone* technology hits the street

Martha's Vineyard--known chiefly for its beaches, quaint olde towne colonial architecture, and conch and lobster fisheries--exploded onto the international stage today as a potential technology hub or, more appropriately, a "tech island." 

Local fisherman--seeing a massive decline in the local fishery over the same decades that saw the meteoric rise of the Internet and cell usage--have innovated a new communication device, which is gaining traction rapidly, especially with the Gen-Z demographic: Shell Phones (see photos below). 

"We felt it was high tide to crack the nacreous layer off the traditional cellular industry and it's crusty incumbents to expose the pearl within," says shell phone designer, Molly Crustashen. 

The clam-size device packs the same feature sets as traditional cells, but additionally shell phones may be tasted or even eaten by the user or a friend before, during, or after making or receiving calls. 

"The innovation underscores behavioral trends linking obesity and talking, nutrition and communication, and, of course, it also buttresses arguments supporting the theories of Evolution, Relativity, and Heliocentricity," says shell-tech advisor, Clam Baker, of Woods Hole. 

Below, a Gen-Z-er uses a shell phone to make a personal shell call while an older gentleman moans with hunger to try the new technology. 

 (Images provided by the Conch Fishers of Martha's Vineyard)

A big roar in a small package

Sometimes a sound can be quite shocking. In this instance, Finn of County Middlesex hears The Lion Sleeps Tonight through headphones for the first time. He was not a little shocked by the exquisite amplification of the small little ear buds he wanted so much to handle.