The Most Photographed Building in Alaska

I didn't know it at the time, but this unusual structure, with a facade of 8800 pieces of driftwood, is reputedly the most photographed building in Alaska.  

It is Camp No.1 of the Arctic Brotherhood.

It sits on a corner of Skagway's main street, Broadway, which is, as one might expect, bustling with tourists.

See what I mean?

But what caught my interest, as I was snapping photos like the rest of the tourist hordes, was a couple perched in front of the building, sitting there like stoic guardians at the gate.

They were there the entire time of my visit, just watching the passing ebb and flow of cruisers.

In spite of the fact that they're clutching souvenir tote bags from a cruise ship line themselves, it's my belief that they're a native couple who live in the area and enjoy watching the tourists as a form of entertainment.  At least the lady looks relatively entertained; I'm not so sure about her friend.

I wonder if they're the most photographed couple in Alaska.

Or if anyone else even noticed them.
***

Postscript FYI:

The facade was nailed together in 1900 by lodge members and is a prime example of Victorian Rustic Architecture.  It underwent a restoration in the winter of 2004-2005 where all 8883 pieces of driftwood were removed.  Forty percent had rotted and were replaced while the remaining 60% were nailed back on.

Horsing Around

Okay, let's keep the parade moving.  I've finally managed to free myself from the spell that the fairy in the previous post had cast on me and now I'm riding in here to pick up the horsing around where we'd left off.

I've heard that Even Cowgirls Get the Blues (which was, by the way, the first Tom Robbins book I ever read and which captured me as a fan of his writing to this day) but I'd venture to say that these horse women are feeling pretty hunky-dory on this fine summer's morning.

Not everyone can own a horse, but one can certainly exercise one's imagination.  Hands up those of you who used to gallop around when you were a little kid, pretending that you were riding a horse--or even that you were a proud steed yourself--slapping your behind and shouting "Giddy-up!!!"  Okay, maybe too much information there.

Let's not forget the little dudes who were also out there showing their parade riding skills, sitting tall in the saddle; or as tall as they could, being somewhat challenged in the height department as yet. 

Once the parade's over, time to put the pony out to pasture.

Or let him mosey off to the barn.

Here's something you probably don't know about me:  I love polka dot horses!  This one is more spotty than polka-dotty, but he's still a wonderful example of what could be called Old Paint.

Eeee-haaaw!

Fairy Tales

Not only were there men in skirts in the village parade but the Green Fairy made an appearance!

Just as I was getting a picture of her and the baby she had recently fairynapped, I was caught up in some sort of magical miasma and started hallucinating different visions of the wee faeric beauty...

appearing through the mists of time...

turning from Green Fairy to Sepia Sprite...

to Rose tinted vision...

to the brightly hued Flower Fairy...

who flits from flower to flower in my neighbour's garden.


And don't forget, fairy tales can come true...

if you're young at heart--
or, apparently, sufficiently high on flower nectar!

(a favourite childhood song of mine)

Celebrity Spotlight

Spotted in New York City last May--

A dude from the Village People!

So gratifying to learn that he has found gainful employment. It would have been a shame to let the costume go to waste. I wonder what's happened to the other guys.

There With Bells On

Two Sundays ago I was invited by my neighbours to attend the village's big Baptist Church recital of their bell-ringing groups. P. was out of town and, quite frankly, I had nothing better to do. It was an entertaining spectacle, to watch people with white gloves and various sized hand bells ring out hymns. They were solemn and concentrated and focused on their music sheets. There was singing by the congregation in between the ringing. The performance was only marginally marred by the frequent braying of a mentally-handicapped congregant and the exit of a whole pew of people once their sprog had performed his part in the children's percussion group. And there was no collection plate in sight.

Keepin' Cool

I caught these dudes chillin' in the Big Apple a few days ago.
As for me right now, I'm about to take my extra-dry cider on the rocks, with side of kettle-cooked potato chips, and enjoy the late afternoon rays of 33 Celcius sunshine out in the old wooden glider swing. Wish you were here!

(Do you think the girl tried to write "help" on the side of the buggy?)