Who wants curtains?

I have mentioned before that we can look out towards the east from our bed. This was what woke us up Tuesday morning.

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Fewer clouds Friday morning.

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A few minutes later the sun peeked above the horizon.

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Leah worries that bare windows will make it feel cold in the bedroom once winter gets here. That’s probably true, but I would hate to miss sunrises like these. In the summer, the sun is well up by the time these photos were shot. Fortunately, the sun rises further towards the north in the summer, so it doesn’t shine directly into the window and our eyes.

A few shots at the bar

I mentioned in an earlier post that Leah and I have visited a few bars on Broad Street in downtown Rome lately, which is a new thing for us. One we visited is the Dark Side of the Moon, which is associated with a cafe called Harvest Moon. They have a regular Tuesday night jazz session. Last Tuesday was our third visit to that bar.

This shows a little of Broad Street, plus the bar.

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The people at the right of the image in a sidewalk seating area are facing the jazz band.

This is the band.

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The saxophonist is good, but then so are the rest. This band is known as Pollard Greens. Here’s a YouTube video of the group. We think they sound better in person; we are certain that they are louder in person.

One of the bar tenders said the same group performs every Tuesday, but not necessarily all of them show up every time.

On our first visit we sat at the end of the bar near the band. This time we were near the opposite end, but the sound was still so loud we couldn’t hear each other talk. This is a shot down the bar towards the band.

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Can you see the band? Neither could we.

The bar swaps a set of 12 regional beers every week. Leah’s beer is the dark one, Burnt Hickory Big Shanty. (The brewery is in the town of Kennesaw, which at one time was known as Big Shanty. It is probably best known for two things. The first was the Great Locomotive Chase during the Southern War to Preserve Slavery. The second was when the town passed an ordinance requiring every resident to have a firearm.)

My beer is the closer one, but I can’t remember the name. On our first visit, I got a mild beer that suited my taste reasonably well. That experience has not been repeated.

This is a bar, so, of course, they offer a variety of drinks.

thebottles

One thing I have learned, or at least have had reinforced, is that there really aren’t too many beers that I actually like. Maybe there’s someone else who feels kind of like me at XKCD:

Of course there are a few beers that I do like, but I just can’t get into bitter.

 

Not rolling downhill

I came across this on my Friday morning dog walk down the mountain.

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It’s a dung beetle, deltochilum gibbosum, the humpback dung beetle, if my identification is correct. I might have noticed the beetle by itself, but what caught my attention from a distance was a moving ball of what appears to be dog poop. It’s possible, in fact probable, that I know the source. The ball was probably slightly more than an inch in diameter.

The beetle had made it about a quarter of the way across Fouche Gap Road. I usually help living things cross the road (turtles, crawfish, snakes), but in this case I felt I just had to let the beetle take its chances. I didn’t see any sign of it when we came back up the mountain, so maybe it was lucky.

I had never seen a dung beetle at work before this, although Walter Reeves, a gardening expert in Georgia, says they are probably in back yards here in Georgia. This link leads to a question that someone submitted to Reeves about using dung beetles to clean up dog droppings in his yard.

I handle that problem by trying to make sure the dogs leave their droppings in the weeds in unpopulated areas along the road. That way they join the rest of the droppings left by the mammal population around here. I think it’s reasonably acceptable in the ecological sense, although I suggest that you watch your step if you walk in the weeds along Fouche Gap Road.

Zeke and Sam are good about not messing up their own territory. Lucy, on the other hand, doesn’t give a …