When the hunger's all that holds you together, who do you want by your side?
Somerville is planting trees! The city took out so many in the last few years because of the emerald ash borer, I am glad to see they are making good on their promise to make up the numbers. On our street we counted one Jefferson elm—a cultivar I hadn't known existed, descended from one tree on the National Mall with a natural resistance to Dutch elm disease—one Red Sunset maple, one October Glory maple, and one Wildfire sweet gum, which
spatch not unreasonably thinks sounds like a strain of weed. All were fluttering with little labels as in an arboretum and tagged with QR codes exhorting the passerby to adopt the tree. I feel protective about the little elm already.
strange_complex provided invaluable assistance in deciphering the ghost sign on the side of the Knights of Malta Hall on Medford Street, which we now believe to have belonged to a "Sheraton Upholstering Co." I couldn't photograph it without the rustier, more overgrown end of the sign flattening out in the late afternoon sun, but Rob was confident about the triple circle of the G-C-O. Thrashing around in the badly scanned archives of the Boston Globe confirmed the address.

I will have to go back for a better portrait of the building itself, with its green bronze pediment and red brick and sandstone arches; it was built in 1896 and it probably won't get knocked down by the GLX, but they said that about the Reid & Murdock Warehouse, too.
a_reasonable_man found a wonderful photo from the 1920's or '30's when it housed the Fisher Business College and the street-level retail had not all been bricked up.
Rob took another plague-masked portrait of me when we got home. I changed over from my leather jacket last week because the weather was finally warming; this afternoon was hot as summer. People walk around in masks and gloves and sleeveless shirts. I am trying to figure out if it is even possible for me to walk safely to the sea.

choco_frosh bought me a digital copy of the Mountain Goats' Songs for Pierre Chuvin (2020), a lo-fi Panasonic album with classical themes as in the earliest days of the band, and I am enjoying it very much.

I will have to go back for a better portrait of the building itself, with its green bronze pediment and red brick and sandstone arches; it was built in 1896 and it probably won't get knocked down by the GLX, but they said that about the Reid & Murdock Warehouse, too.
Rob took another plague-masked portrait of me when we got home. I changed over from my leather jacket last week because the weather was finally warming; this afternoon was hot as summer. People walk around in masks and gloves and sleeveless shirts. I am trying to figure out if it is even possible for me to walk safely to the sea.


no subject
I love that this city has an Urban Forestry Division. I look forward to the 2020 map.