Leonard Bucknor, an artist and a gentleman

In memorium.  Mr. Bucknor, aka The Captain—and to his children, Christine, Ann, Carla, Patricia, and Wayne, "Daddy"—was a loving and lovable person. We were lucky to know him, and will miss him always.

Art made of bamboo roots.

The Captain holds court on his veranda at Dowling House.

On one of many road trips where he took care of us all.

cloud gathering

A whale of a cloud!

 Pretty sure you guys either are or soon will be sick of my cloud pictures. I am not. I am entranced by the skies here. But as a sop to other sensibilities, I have added some local color: Winchester dude checking out guns at the grocery store.
   And there you have the Ozarks in two frames.

Masked. Sorta kinda.

tailgatin'

The minnows were intrigued with my new water shoes.

 It was hot. What better than a swift river to lie down in? And picnic. And drink beer.  And talk. It was just like the kitchen table only with minnows. I finally had people to go to The Slab with me. Alison was down from Kansas City and open to a diversion, so she and David came out. We had salads and watermelon and fried chicken but ate very little of it. We could have, though. I drove the truck down to the water and put down the tailgate.

Alison enjoys a sophisticated beverage.

meanwhile at the shore

 My brother-in-law Johnny sent me the aerials, which appear to have been colorized. But you can plainly see in the one above that his vision of a freshwater pond in the shape of Block Island has reached fruition. Check it out on google maps. The two houses on the left are mine. The barn is his.
   The picture below has not been colorized. It was sent to me by the tenant at Claudia's Surf City from my porch. The two yachts reportedly belong to David Geffen and JK Rowling.
    I have been getting inquiries pleading for space at my houses in case I have any cancellations. Meanwhile there was another fraudster collecting money for renting my place. The woman was wise enough to check VRBO and call me, but she was still out the money.
   Block island has been discovered.

View from my porch. Geffen's "Rising Sun" is said to be 452 feet long. 

 Maybe the island has been too much discovered. This is the roadside in front of our place. And apparently the volunteer EMTs and tiny police force are in crisis mode. Per this article.

Overview of oceanview

what is this?

 So this thing was in the drawer. I'm assuming I bought it. It looks new. But I have no freaking idea what it's for! Any ideas?
   The sign below is both a sign of the times and a pretty good representation of what its like around here.

the immediate neighbor

I love this picture of my nextdoor neighbor, Jason, and his dog, Chopper. (Do you suppose his motorcycle is named Pitbull?) He's always yelling at Chopper to get away from the road, but Chopper isn't but six months old and doesn't listen that well. Jason has planted peppers and tomatoes and put a porch on his house since last year. His mother owned a rock house across the street that was wiped out in the flood and was too costly to put back together, so the town mother gave him this modular place. Jason lived in the Goose when he was a teenager.

the immediate neighborhood

The Goose, as seen from pergola most recently used as parking spot for B and B.

My hidden deck, with the cafe and it's unintelligible hours across the street.

The cafe, clearly blessed. As why wouldn't it be with the chapel right next door.

The Chapel. You can just see my truck, parked at the Goose, in the background.

pulling it together

Now with NYC chairs!

town dog

 Here's a friendly horse, coming over to see what I was up to. But there doesn't seem to be a town dog in T'ville this summer. Most recently it was Maggie, a bloodhound with a scary habit of lying in the road. Memorably it was Yoyo of the crooked smile and friendly disposition. Then there was the basset hound, waddling everywhere with his best friend the duck. When the duck got run over, the basset soon died of grief. But this year, zip. Perhaps a new town dog will show up yet.

Barrett's favorite house

One of my favorite hillsides

anniversary

Well, today I would have been married to this guy for 42 years, had we not divorced 21 years later. So this year is the even split—same divorced as married. We still love each other. Call it distanced loving.

there goes the neighborhood

I can't claim to understand this, and I haven't talked to the neighbors yet (we are naturally socially distanced unless one is a sexpot shrink), but what's up with the miniature church? A playhouse church? What? And why are the lights on in the Chapel of Love all night? Satanic cult? And why does the cafe seem to only be open every couple of weeks, reservations only? Why does the sign say, "Welcome, We're Open"? And why do they open at all, when restaurants in West Plains are shut down. Lawless town? Godfearing but not virusfearing? What? I better get the sexpot shrink down here to find out what's going on around here. That or talk to the neighbors myself. Heaven forfend.

across the river and through the woods

 The thrill of taking the back road home to the Goose is like that I feel on the Block Island ferry. Almost home, but a beautiful pause. Seeing how high the water is over the slab. Going through woods and down from the hills into the river valley and fields. Seeing what flowers are blooming. Seeing my favorite tree. And then the place by the side of the road.

ensconced

Left NYC and visited friends in Pittsburgh

Spent the night there

Left early in the acka emma

Left maybe 7 ayem. (photo Annie O'Neill)

And finally made it to the Goose around nine. Just shoot me.