If the capital building were designed today, would it look like ...

... this?

A walk around capital square first thing in the morning is a treat.

I've been sloppy drunk, and I've been awful tired, but I've never, ever been as relaxed as this, and I can't imagine how I ever will.

Looking Up

This oak tree has been hunched over like a question mark for longer than I've been breathing in and out, and I just noticed it today as I was taking my afternoon break in the form of a short walk around capital square.

Looking Down

It looks like an ash leaf, but I didn't see any ash trees on the square, so I'm not sure which tree's leaf was immortalized in the sidewalk on Mifflin Street.

Looking Up Again

These terra cotta faces look out across the square from the upper story of the building at 7 Pickney Street. Looks a bit like the Green Man, doesn't it?

Out on the Stoop

Of the many wonderful places in Our Humble O-Bode, this back stoop is a great place to take your cup of coffee and set a spell. Barb and the cats loves to watch the yard through the many windows; on warmer days, she swings the door open to give her an even better view through the screen. Her basil plant is doing very well in the sun at the far corner of the room, too.

And what does she watch through her binoculars?

We've got rabbits living in a warren under a rotting stump out by the lilac bushes. So far we've counted at least two adults and three youngsters, and when they're out on the lawn to get their morning silfay, Bonkers will jump from window to window, jockeying for the best view, and Barb will squeal, "Bunnies!" and call everybody into the room to watch.

Birds! Our neighborhood has had about fifty years to establish a thick cover of trees, and many of the yards have gardens, attracting grackles, cowbirds, cardinals, jays, nigers and sparrows — lots and lots of sparrows.

I can't think of a place I've been in Wisconsin where I haven't heard a mourning dove, and our yard is no exception. Even in a cold rain, this dove showed up for the morning shift to sing her song.

The yard has not a few flowers all around. The back yard is bounded on all three sides by lilac bushes, and they're in full flower this month.

Next month I'll be out there with a pruning shears and brush saw to trim the dead wood and overgrowth. heavy sigh

Even on a rainy day, the back stoop is a favorite place to sit and watch the reflections off the sheen across the deck and the ripples in the puddles that collect here and there.

At the coffee shop yesterday noon:

When it comes down to the last stale bagel, they should swap out "day-old" for "lonely, lost, and desperately in need of a home."

The slate-gray edifice of the state office building looms against the slate-gray overcast of an afternoon sky.

It's no Chrysler Building, but the state office building is ornamented with and art deco facade that gives it a lot of character and makes it one of my favorite downtown buildings. The city-county building (next to it on the right) is a practically featureless, pale blockhouse in comparison.

The building's design makes it appear large and yet reserved. Stately, I guess. You can make out more details of the art deco design.

Bonkers calls dibs on the warm sunny patch.

What is it about a napping cat that makes people smile? Nobody in our family can look at Bonkers sleeping in the sun and suppress at least a grin. He is the picture of contentment when he has a warm spot where he can curl up like a rolley-pollie and snooze until the sun slides too far away.

(Just how do you spell "rolley-pollie" without the first half mispronounced by most of the population? When it's "roll" nobody has any difficulty saying it right, but when it's "rolley" or "rollie" or "rollee," almost anybody I know would say RAH lee. So a standard spelling, please, for the bug that sounds like ROE lee POE lee.)

When I come back, I want to be a housecat, but not just any housecat: I want to be Bonkers, right here, in the sun, at this moment. What a life.

... and then, whatever the polar opposite of "contentment" is, that's a hungry cat. Bonkers is one of the warmest, friendliest, lapmost cats I've ever met, but when he wants his kibble he's the most relentlessly annoying, bar none, of any pet. I would never intentionally hurt a pet, but when he's hungry and underfoot it's almost impossible to walk to the kitchen tap to get a drink without punting him between the goalposts. There must be a way to cure him of this, but short of feeding him until he explodes, I don't know what it could be.

I hate being a showoff, but I can't resist - some of the views around our new home are really very photogenic, and I don't think it's only because I'm a proud papa.

These wildflowers grow in the grass strip between our garage and the neighbor's yard. The dandelions I recognize, but I don't know what the plants with the blue blossoms are called. I'll have to do a little learning after having a good look around.

The bumblebees love these blue flowers; I was trying to catch a snapshot of the one that darted away just before I clicked the shutter.