On the other side of the bridge is, among other things, the town hall of Buckland, which looks precisely as a town hall should:
Shelburne Falls, Jan. 21, 2002
Off to pick up Older Daughter at her camp reunion in Western Massachusetts, I stopped here for lunch and a stretching of legs. Walked through a gentle but persistent snowstorm on the Iron Bridge over the Deerfield River, from which I could see the out-of-season but still visually interesting Bridge of Flowers:
On the other side of the bridge is, among other things, the town hall of Buckland, which looks precisely as a town hall should:
...as well as the Unitarian Church, which is hard to ignore photographing on a snowy day:
Between church and hall is a combined market/cafe attached to Boswell's Books:
This is Boswell, for whom the store is named (yes, that's right). A finer specimen of a bookstore cat probably cannot be found:
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Shutesbury and vicinity
My mother has been working as the on-site director of a small retreat and conference center way-the-hell-out-in Central-Western Massachusetts, on the northwest edge of the Quabbin Reservoir. During my visit there in late December of 2001, I snapped a few photos, some of which may have found their way into the center's Web page by now:
Shutesbury Center
Entrance to Temenos (it's about a half-mile walk to the main site)
Looking almost due west from the top of Mt. Mineral, where Temenos is located
Shutesbury Center
Interior views of two of the cabins at Temenos
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Sell, oh, Dolly!
If you or your child -- or anyone else's child, for that matter -- don't particularly like cuddling with anthropomorphized domestic farm animals of biotechnological origin, you can lick 'em:
I suppose the geneticists in the audience could offer a reasonable explanation, but wouldn't it be more appropriate if the "dollypops" all looked exactly alike?
Within a relatively small geographic area of New York City are three examples of dubious, curious or kinda absurd namesakes of famous people.
Immediately adjacent to the Museum of Natural History is a park named for Theodore Roosevelt, president, animal-lover, outdoors enthusiast and one of the most dentally-enabled politicians ever. But the city decided the park needed one more thing to make it complete:
...a place, named after TR's unsuccessful attempt at forging a third party, where doggies can cavort with one another and go to the bathroom.
Near the museum is an elementary school named for one of the more controversial figures in the Civil War, William T. Sherman. And near the school is a playground which is also named for him -- or for the legendary Shawnee leader from whom Sherman's middle name was derived:
Say what you will about "Bill," but one doesn't exactly get the sense that he was known for his sense of whimsy or playfulness. But there's his middle name on the sign. Wonder if one of the playground rules is, "If nominated, you cannot run."
Finally, in Central Park, almost directly across from the museum, is another center of child recreation:
Apparently, the playground attendant is not compelled to wear any form-fitting, glittery gowns and coifed wigs. Nor is there a sign depicting the layout of the facility, headed in bold letters by "Do you know where you're going to?," and while a ladder or two is in evidence, no roof can be found to which to climb. But there is apparatus which enables one to be upside down, it's quite easy to reach out and touch somebody's hand in this setting (although predicting their response might be difficult) and the phrase "It's my turn" can be heard frequently.
