This is one of two kitties seen sunning behind vented screens along Meade (cross-street withheld). You’ll have to wait for a better portrait before the other joins the series. Nickname, for no particular reason: Berry.
I don’t recall the number of furballs featured from the street, but it’s only a handful. To name a few: Amanda; Chipper; Dragon; Honey Bunny; Mittens; Ninja; Pee-Pee; Siamese; Tink; and Vivienne.
The Featured Image is an opportunity to shake up the flow of posts with something odd, if not disturbing. The head hangs over a fence along Mission Avenue in San Diego neighborhood University Heights. The photo is from Aug. 10, 2025, but the thing is still there—leering down on people who happen to look up as they walk by,
During any other Winter season, the thang might have been compromised by constant, heavy rains. But this part of California is experiencing unseasonably pleasant weather of warm days with low humidity. Today’s high, for example, was 28 degrees Celsius (82 Fahrenheit) and breezy.
The process of reviewing the vast quantity of slides left behind by father continues. My guess is that the majority are from the 1970s, when my father was an amateur photographic fiend. He shot with a Kowa—likely the seT R2—preferring slides to film for their shareability and presumed better longevity.
The Kowa appealed to him for interchangeable lenses with leaf shutters—an innovative design that made the camera nearly silent, which made scaring off wildlife less likely. An avid hunter, later in the decade he put aside the rifle and only shot animals with the camera.
On Jan. 26, 2026, as I walked along the alley separating Louisiana and Mississippi, while talking to one of my sisters on the phone, a man asked if I had a forklift. He smiled big, indicating the question was rhetorical and serious.
I briefly interrupted the conversation with Nanette to engage him, and the woman working with him. I assumed they were married or otherwise coupled. He explained the need: Removal of a camper top from the back of a pickup truck. Alternate plan: Tie ropes to the topper and pull off the contraption.
This is what absolutely authentic photography looks like. To digital content, I can apply film or vintage filters using any of several editing apps to make a photo look like the Featured Image. But this is the real deal, as captured by someone using my father’s film camera—likely in June or July 1972 or ’73. That’s a pure guesstimate.
Likely location: The lumberjack camp the Wilcox brothers called “Dodge City“. During the early 1970s, a group of hunters would spend as much as three weeks in the Allagash Wilderness, which is along the St. John Valley in an area also called the Maine North Woods. My Uncle Glenn had jacket patches made identifying the group as the Falls Brook Rangers, Yankeetuladi.
Oh the moments 21st-Century Kids are deprived of. There is something oh-so nostalgic about Jell-O made with overripe bananas and a cup or two of real cane sugar. That’s what Nana prepares in the Featured Image, which my father would have taken. Date is unknown, but sometime in 1972 or `73 is my guess.
We sure ate a lot of Jell-O growing up in the 1970s. Eater book review “‘Joys of Jell-O,’ There’s Nothing You Can’t Do with Colored Gelatin” claims that at the height of the jiggly dessert’s popularity, 1968, the average American household consumed 16 boxes a year. You should also read: “How the class history of Jell-O came full circle“—Marketplace”.
Two years ago, my sister Nanette and I discussed traveling to Maine to visit our father, whose health appeared to be declining. We made the trip, and visited with him February 17-18. He died on April 16, 2024.
As I explained yesterday, the Old Man left to me a treasure-trove of photographic slides, most of which he presumably had shot. They’re all mixed up, which makes sorting through them kind of a memorial journey—no, an adventure! The current batch is so far from 1973 and ’74, and I have seen so few.
The process of sorting through my father’s stash of photographic slides continues, sputtering along. I cannot dedicate the time necessary to sort through them quickly, nor to clean them up (if such process is possible). They are filthy.
The Featured Image has a processing date of January 1973. The young girl beneath the blanket appears to be one of my sisters, two of whom looked more alike. Nanette says “pretty sure it’s me. The eyes would be a bit crossed if it were” our youngest sister. “That’s exactly how I lay on the couch when I’m sick today. My guess is I was sick”.
The owner of Bruce either spotted him or his doppelgänger the other night. He vanished over Memorial Day weekend 2023, and she and others have sought him since. He was an extremely popular cat, who was best known for his quirky personality, bowties, and walks with his caretaker and her dog.
Could Bruce really be alive and living a few blocks from his home territory? The supposed sighting occurred on historically-designated Shirley Ann Place—a street I loathe and generally avoid. There is a perpetual cultural/political war over there that manifests in the signage and other yard accouterments. As such, the street has a negative vibe. I see it, feel it, and am repulsed by it.
The lasting legacy left by my father is a significant number—hundreds at least—of photographic slides that remain from those he said had been damaged by water. I don’t know the specifics of the incident that destroyed perhaps half of them. That’s what he inherited to me, and I got more than did most family members.
The co-pastor couple of his church got the family farm to hold in trust intact. They did, for a whole 13 months, until May 2025, when a sale closed and they profited from it. Fortunately, the young farmer buying the property is son of the man who had leased the land for decades; I am sincerely glad for that.
I often wish for the simpler days of Leica Q or Q2. One camera and one great lens. Versatile, compatible RAW files (DNG). Image quality so sharp that close-cropping substitutes for telephoto lens. But in December 2024, I switched platforms and returned to the world of swappable lenses.
I seriously considered holding out for the then rumored Fujifilm GFX100RF. Like the Q series, the digicam is built around a single lens with leaf shutter—and it’s medium format, which I came to really love when shooting the Fujifilm GFX 50R. Everything about the rangefinder’s ergonomics and high IQ checked my benefits boxes. But the 50R was so big that it scared off animals and people, so I let it go. The 100RF should have been the ideal follow-on, but it shipped later than I needed and the massive file sizes are logistically unappealing.
Last Summer, I started seeing sophisticated graffiti splash upon utility boxes across University Heights. My mistake. The San Diego village commissioned local artists to dress up the boxes, and so they did to about 51 of them.
The Featured Image and first companion catch artists at work on a box located near the intersection of Florida Street and El Cajon Blvd. Both photos come from Samsung Galaxy S25 Ultra, on Aug. 17, 2025. Vitals, first: f/3.4, ISO 32, 1/500 sec, (synthetic) 230mm (digital and optical zoom); 3:02 p.m. PDT.