Via wnyc:
Ultimate Loyalty: Japanese Dog Refuses to Leave Injured Friend Behind
Status: They’re gonna be okay.
Also, there’s this sweet Wall Street Journal story about two dogs’ survival (in Miyagi Prefecture) and the dogs’ post-tsunami reunification with their humans.
We love guerilla knitting.
Okay, last shot of that same site from this evening’s walk downtown. This pic shows the open space / parking lot between the two other buildings (the ones with the ghost signs). A relic – the word “shoes” – is intact in the terrazzo (beneath the metal barricade). The tile in the area to the left of this spot is different, leading me to think two or three narrow stores once sat on this site. Bonus: See that red brick building in the background? I used to live in a loft there.
A building used to sit between the site of this ghost sign & the other one. The ground now is a parking lot. (Taken with Instagram at 402 Main St in Houston)
Love the ghost sign that’s still visible on the side of this historic building. “Completely air conditioned,” “Citizens State Bank.” (Taken with Instagram at 402 Main St in Houston)
Beethoven-esque (or Mahler-esque) pastoral symphony created from radiators. Made with help from Studio 360.
(Image by Ben Becker)
Finally listened to this piece, after saving a draft reblog of this post a couple of days ago. (Anybody else do that – save a draft of something so you can refer later to it?) Anyway, the audio segment, which is very interesting (to me), is another example of the idea that music is everywhere.
IN October 2007, Mr. Wells bought this land — a 40-acre parcel — for $8,000 in cash, adding a 20-acre tract for $5,000 a year and a half later. It took nine days and $1,600 to build the shell of his one-room house, the first structure in a compound that now includes four shipping containers under a soaring arched roof planted on a lacy framework of metal trusses, all of which he made himself. He gave it all a fancy moniker, the Southwest Texas Alternative Energy and Sustainable Living Field Laboratory, but you can call it the Field Lab for short.
By the following summer, he had started a blog detailing his daily struggles and small triumphs, planting guy wires for the wind turbines or extracting a scorpion from the composting toilet. In its own quiet way, the diary is as compelling as the notebooks of some of the great 19th-century adventurers — more Joshua Slocum, say, than Barbara Kingsolver.