At the parking lot for the bridge to Mexico.
A pretty good flock of cowbirds. They like to stand around in the shade of the parked cars. They also like the granaries in the area. Bits get spilled as the grain is transferred to and from the silos.
It’s a 1937 Chevrolet.
It matches the one I found on the internet that just sold for $10K (I’m surprised it didn’t sell for more.)
(Not my photo.)
… except the car in my photo looks to be in better shape. We can tell it was driven to the parking lot where it sat yesterday, by the bugs on the windshield.
There are photos of the interior, engine, and undercarriage of the one on the internet if you want to check out the state of automotive technology in 1937. The engine sure looks simple.
Can you identify this beauty?
It’s all about having the right hairs and bristles on your feet. With those, tiny surface imperfections become footholds. This little gecko walks across the ceiling of our deck.
How cool would that be to walk up a wall, or across the ceiling? I think I want to have the right hairs and bristles on my feet. The whole process might have something to do with weight to size ratio though, or strength to weight, in which case I might be disappointed after all, and left with fuzzy feet for no reason.
Five years since the heart bypass surgery. Did a nuclear stress test on the treadmill for the cardiologist here in the Valley a couple weeks ago, and we had the follow-up appointment today. He wrote a happy face on the test results he handed me. No sign of any restriction to the blood flow in and around my heart.
Yay me. And yay, for real, for the heart surgeon team in Colorado that spent most of their day in my chest replumbing with veins from my left leg. Today’s report suggests they did a fine job.
