This mailbox down the street has a weasel delivery slot and I’m a little jealous. Although maybe it’s not for delivery but to allow safe passage of weasels from one side of the mailbox to the other. Either way the Postmaster General seems to approve.
In Portland my favorite things to photograph while walking Ellie were the neighborhood art and the old garages. It’s going to be more challenging in Scottsdale as while there is a lot of art around, most of it is up against people’s houses and out of my reach. There is some art accessible from the street but I might have to settle for mailbox decorations more often than not. Of course the other limitation is Ellie wants shorter walks these days so the streets she chooses determines what I see. Which is fine, it’s walking with her I treasure most.
I like this garden we pass on our walks, these aren’t the native cacti I see on the trails and not the kind I’d plant in my own garden, but I like the variety of shapes and textures from the different plants. I’m assuming the statue is St. Francis of Assisi because of his love for the natural world. I’m hoping when we’re ready to buy we find a house that already has native desert landscaping but if not it’s something I’d like to add. I do appreciate the little strip of grass in our backyard because Ellie loves rolling around in it so.
We put our house in Portland on the market on Friday and had our first offer Sunday evening, the second Monday morning. Monday evening when I got home from work we accepted the first offer, sounds like a family who is excited about the house, which makes me happy. Time for it to be a home again. This heating vent is in my old office, when we moved in I had the walls painted sky blue so with the white trim and ceilings and the brown hardwood floor, I’d have a representation of the brown earth beneath my feet and clouds and blue sky all around me. We were there sixteen years, I will always have an intense love for that old house, our old home.
It’s been cooler than normal this past week in Scottsdale, but cooler in the sense that I wore a long sleeve shirt last night rather than I was scraping ice from my car windows. This was Christmas morning in Portland, a rare (barely) white Christmas. It was the overnight ice that was naughty not nice, coating the streets and causing problems for those going to visit family Christmas morning, or for a man wanting to walk his elderly dog.