Will the Featured Image win awards, or even kudos, for compelling street photography? Never. I don’t have a good supporting story either. The chairs caught my attention for being two, fitting the space placed, and […]
Around my neighborhood are many little lending libraries. Some are fancy, others large, then there those paying homage to something. All are wooden boxes of various types placed and placarded (as LittleFreeLibrary). Someone made them.
But why go to all that trouble? Today, I happened upon the best book sharing station ever. Why build something new, when you can repurpose something else—in this instance a fence post upon which to place a cardboard box with books. I love it! Use what you got instead of making something new.
Early evening, I hoofed outside to top off my walking for the day. Thirteen minutes before sunset, at 7:21 p.m. PDT, I came upon the contents of the Featured Image along the University Heights side of Texas Street—somewhere between cross-streets Madison and Meade (Monroe is between them).
What an odd assortment: bottle (empty), candle, doormat, planter, potted plant, Purell, straws, table, take-out containers, white-board cleaner, and a few other oddities that I can’t identify. I’ve seen a lot of unexpected freebees along San Diego alleys and streets. Some of the more memorable sightings: Antique dresser; blue and white PowerMac G3 (circa 1999); first furnishings; LC Smith typewriter (vintage, rusted); living room set; 1970’s era gas stove; and Vitamaster Slendercycle, among other things.
I sometimes wonder why San Diegans put such valuable items in alleys for free. Take this bureau that my wife and I came upon yesterday. The condition is, at the least, very good. Craftmanship is excellent, and the dresser is solid wood—no particle board! Some antique shop might even put a hefty price tag on the discard. If we had need, or space, I would have stood guard while Annie fetched the car.
The find presented opportunity to test one of Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra‘s higher megapixel modes. Standard default is 3:4 at 12MP. But 50MP and 200MP are available at the tap of a finger. The Featured Image and companion were shot at the former. Original files measure 8160 x 6120 pixels and weigh in at 14.6MB and 13.1MB, respectively, before being cropped 3:2.
As my wife and I walked along Louisiana Street yesterday, she stopped at the lending library at the corner of Mission. Annie pulled out a well-worn copy of The Science Fiction Hall of Fame Vol. IIB to show me. Interested?
Ages ago, I owned this title and earlier volumes in the series. Despite missing the back cover, I decided to take the classic anthology, which features novellas by Isaac Asimov, James Blish, Frederik Pohl, Clifford D. Simak, and seven other authors. The pages are yellowed and brittle, but hopefully fit enough for (at least) one reading.
We begin a series of posts looking at what was along Park Blvd between El Cajon and Meade in San Diego neighborhood University Heights and what replaces it. On most Friday afternoons, New Vision Christian Fellowship opened its doors to give away food. Long lines formed, with recipients largely making up two disparate demographic groups: The elderly and Hispanic families.
If we lived somewhere else, I would have brought home this rocker, today. But like the giver, we live in an apartment too small (772 square feet) to take on another piece of furniture. How grand and—by my wife’s estimation—”antique” is this fine piece of craftsmanship and upholstery.
Surely giving up something sentimental—”My G’ma’s”—makes the freebee all the more poignantly placed. May the new owner treasure, rather than resell, the chair, in which Annie sat and proclaimed its comfort and sturdiness. Location: Adams Avenue, just East of Park Blvd, in San Diego neighborhood University Heights.
We turn back the clock to the early days of SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns—to when flatten-the-curve meant about two weeks of home confinement and business closures. Instead, some states served up seemingly never-ending mandates; yes, California among them.
The Featured Image is a reminder and portender of future events, should food shortages become commonplace. What interests me here, though, when reviewing my archive tonight, is the juxtaposition of free lemons set inside a Beyond Burger box.
Composition-wise, the Featured Image is not as appealing as the angled shot that I considered sharing instead. But the single pair of bundled socks—shoved into an empty drawer-space—makes the moment for me. I wonder what is their story? Why are they there? I will never know.
The discarded desk waits for a new owner in one of the University Heights East alleys between Adams and Monroe. My apologies but I don’t offhand recall which one. I can attest to passing by the thing—perhaps too tucked away in flowering vines to be easily seen by San Diego rummagers—several times over many days. Maybe missing drawers dissuade scavengers, who miss out. That’s solid wood, not pressboard. If I needed a desk…but do not.
The followup to yesterday’s Gnome greeters isn’t as interesting, and I regret not taking time to shoot the entire setup. Instead, the Featured Image shows the house where the welcomers would go if truly able to enter the tree.
Lovely and inviting, this outdoor decor escapade leads to yet something else to stimulate your imagination. Behind the closed doors are books and another of San Diego’s many little lending libraries. (Some others: One, Two, Three, Four.)
Somewhere in my San Diego neighborhood, I passed by these giveaways that aren’t for just anyone. Read the sign. Does your residence rise to the high bar set by “Good Homes” with an exclamation? I couldn’t take anything being among the many unworthy.
There are the makings of a good home, singular, for someone starting out in a first rental, particularly a studio. That’s who would be most worthy recipient. What first furnishings: Sofa, storage rack, pillows, VHS player, cleaning supplies, and more.
Today ends tight-integration between Google Drive and Photos, which when working on Chromebooks I earnestly depended for the fluidity of my imaging workflow. As expressed about three weeks ago, the change contributed to my decision to abandon all things Google. I have lost trust in the company’s commitment to treating users as customers; they are instead beta testers for products and commodities to be profited from. That’s the price paid for free.
I have waffled about Alphabet for more than a decade—delighting in beneficial innovation and ignoring even my own analysis about Google’s profiting from—no, exploiting—content created by others. As I have written before: “Google is a leech that feeds off the intellectual property of legitimate content producers. The search giant profits from your good work, reducing its value in the process. Stated differently, ‘You create it, we sell it, and you must give it away for free’. How convenient that Google assigns such value, free, to someone else’s good work, while producing little content of its own”.