Tin Can Alley

This quaint cottage sits on a prime piece of real estate on Gwynn's Island in an area known as Tin Can Alley. Middle Sis and I drove over here on a little sightseeing tour when she was home for Christmas.

Our grandmother used to take us swimming here when we were kids. Click here for that story, written back in 2008 when this blog was just a baby. The post also references this as a public access, which has been up for much very heated debate of late.  I'll steer clear of that argument and only say that when I was a child, it was never an issue to go swimming there.

Also, these pictures were taken from the road, so I wasn't trespassing. I promise.

Happy 2015.

Diamonds in the Rough

The two photos above are of a building at the intersection of Providence and East River roads. I love this place and can hardly resist busting through that door that's ajar whenever I drive by. (Chesapeake Bay Daughter's BFF lives down Providence Road, so I pass by here frequently. Every single time I have to use restraint.)

Trespassing, however, would be a most unattractive addition to my resume at this stage of my life.

Below is a house that sits back off Old Garden Creek Road.

And here's a closer shot of that attic window.

I'm more motivated than ever (in spite of all that I have going on) to photograph these old places.

 A couple of weeks ago, a tiny shed that I admired off Route 3/Windsor Road (just before you get to the cemetery) was torn down and burned.

I almost drove off the road when I saw it reduced to a pile of embers.  I'd become so accustomed to admiring it and telling myself I was gonna pull in there sometime and ask permission to take pictures. Now it's too late.

These are the times when my proclivity to procrastinate really bothers me.

So, in between commuting to and from my paying job; shuttling kids to and from sports events; working on the book; maintaining a house (which is missing one exterior shutter and has some siding hanging off thanks to a recent storm); and keeping the grass and shoreline cut to a point that we don't wake up one morning and find ourselves swinging from the top of a giant beanstalk that suddenly sprouted--well, keeping up with all these old places will be tough.

But I vow to try.

Have a great weekend that doesn't involve dangling siding; out-of-control yard growth; missing shutters and favorite places reduced to burning embers.

Signs

Williams Wharf

..."Signs, signs, everywhere there's signs

The boathouse at Williams Wharf

Blocking up the scenery, breaking my mind

Just a random No Trespassing sign

Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign?" 


( Youngsters who have never heard the song, click here. )

It's a swamp filled with fiddler crabs and water moccasins.  

CBW's answer:  Yes, I can read the sign.

But I can't seem to heed the sign....

And really do we need the sign?

Because maybe the sign just makes me want to do the very thing it's discouraging all the more.

But for the record, I am a long-haired freaky person a law-abiding citizen.

***********

Are there any unusual or noteworthy signs near you?

Who here remembers the railroad crossing sign next to the high school?  

The Cornfield Incident

Once upon a time, a group of bloggers met for a weekend of fun and frivolity.

After gallivanting, cavorting and caravaning through several counties taking photos, they decided to have lunch.

This lunch included cheeseburger boats, hamburger boats, crab cake boats and french fries which evidently is what makes a boat a boat as opposed to those plastic baskets that used to denote a boat. This talk about plastic baskets and boats is not germane to the story other than this: BOATLOADS of french fries and other fried foods were consumed.

Let's return to our incident, already in progress.

On the ride home, one of the passengers had what is known in the medical journals as "a rumbly in the tumbly. " When the driver told her how far they were from home, and added that by the way there's no such thing as public restrooms in the tri-county area, an emergency stop was made to address the shituation.

This emergency stop involved a cornfield and a very, very lovely old farm. It so happens the driver knew the owner of this farm, so she felt it was OK to trespass stop a while and take some photos. It also happens that another passenger had some wet wipes everything necessary for such an emergency stop. It was something else destiny.

While the one passenger addressed her needs, the remainder of the jolly party frolicked about the property gleefully snapping one photo after another.

And when all was said and done, it was a very productive pit stop for all the merry bloggers.

The End.

Soybeans

Yesterday I had the whole day to myself, so I napped all day drove around taking pictures. Then I napped the rest of the day.

These soybean fields are down the Glebe. I've photographed the field and structures above before, but I don't recall the buildings having that pinkish hue. They were a deeper red.

Trying to get the perfect shot while musing over the pinkish buildings, I noticed a couple walking towards me. Even though I was in the middle of the road and they were probably on their daily stroll, I felt like I was trespassing uncomfortable, so I got back in the car and drove away. It's a shame, too, because that field was gorgeous, and this is the only photo I took.

Below are two shots of a nearby field. Nothing too spectacular about the content other than I just love the green.



Soybeans are my favorite crop around here, not that there are many crops to choose from. They're so much prettier, I think, than a field of corn.


From now on, whenever I think of a field of corn, I will always think of Country Girl Kate. There was a little incident at Blog Fest involving an emergency pit stop in a corn field. Perhaps later on after I stop laughing I'll tell the full story. Hi, Kate!

In the mean time, have a great Sunday, and happy August.

A Pair

Above is a No Trespassing sign in the swamp at Bethel Beach.





Below is a No Trespassing sign in the swamp at Bethel Beach.


The End.


OK, not quite, but almost.

Here lately, I've been noticing pairs of photos that contain similar elements yet retain their individuality. Is it possible for inanimate objects to retain individuality or is that only a concern for twins and triplets?

There is humor--and even beauty--to be found in No Trespassing signs in the swamp at Bethel Beach, and that humor involves knee-deep creek mud, killer/mutant fiddler crabs, snakes, horse flies, mosquitoes and dead bodies who knows what else.

In short, the very last place a person would be caught trespassing is in the swamp at Bethel Beach.

The End. For real.

If you are bored and/or are feeling creative, list some reasons--besides hunting illegally or hiding a body--that anyone would want to trespass in a swamp.