It wasn't until I went to get some bread for lunch and I saw all the sodden and slightly weary bikers that I remembered today was the Tour de l'Isle. Pour bastards. Probably felt good about themselves and had a delicious hot meal afterwards, so I suspect it was worth it.
What else to do when confronted with a rainy Sunday and a bit of honest time on one's hands? Take a hearty walk through the city! ("We take a walk through the city." Showroom Dummies, Kraftwerk). Grabbed my neighbour's dog (which took about 10 minutes as she is so hyper we couldn't get her to calm down enough to put the leash on in the way it should be done).
First thing I see. Dead bird splattered on sidewalk. It's face screams with the laughter of the insane. Screaming for me to free them from the hell they have created for themselves.
Wait, sorry, just channelling some Rorschach there.
The remains of an old industrial sewing machine:
Made in Japan, so maybe from the early '70s? I wouldn't imagine the Japanese manufacturing production machinery like that until then. Maybe I'm wrong? Anyways, quite sturdily built. Hmm, possible use for decorating my backyard?
Here's my walking companion:
You can tell she loves her walks!
Finally, a battered medal door. It's hard to see in this picture, but this thing has a hardcore lock on it, a big (8 inches by 6 maybe) rectangular brass thing . I wonder what is hiding behind it?
A good hour and I'm back in time to clean the catbox, have dinner and watch the Celtics try and take one from the Lakers (though that may get pre-empted by The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.)
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