Frog Applause by Teresa Burritt for April 15, 2024

Long long ago.

gentrification is a new term. beautiful art!

Gentrification is a term that originated in New York in the Eighties. It is a disgusting term describing people with higher incomes driving people with lower incomes out of a neighborhood.

Given the current income distribution you’d think that gentrification would be self limiting. Why it isn’t is a question many would like answered.

How far back …?

( pre-outhouse? )

“Artists are always the Johnny Appleseeds of gentrification.”

Scott Hutchins

Well-done. Impressed by how you attain such rich coloring with only the 256 colors of a RGB space.

Very few can activate the process of pregentrification.

The red dwelling is a spite house, right Mz. T?

I saw that St. Teresa of Calcutta parish was lifting and leveling their concrete walks today.

Does that count as gentrification?

[ 001 ] DAYS WITHOUT GENTRIFICATION

My barrio is still in its pregentrification days!

Is that a ghost in the window of the yellow house or has gentrification already started?

Back when it was still Ladyfied.

…Dire Straits has a song called Telegraph Road that this FA sort of reminds me of…

…but, I’ve been kicked out of better places than this…

…where they get you is the property taxes…

…of course Briar Rabbit…

…totally understands…

…Watership Down…

…this ain’t no place for you, Algebra…

…Jethro Tull’s, Farm On The Freeway…

…is probably a better song example…

…of course the west side of Froglandia…

…tin roofs rusted to Park Avenue…

…Granny, I nearly drowned trying to start my motor cycle in the cement pond…

This brought to mind (not necessarily pertinent) to “The Little House,” the 1942 children’s picture book written and illustrated by Virginia Lee Burton. Published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, it was the recipient of the Caldecott Medal for illustration in 1943.

Briefly told: A little family house has happy memories of “living” in a country setting, away from the bustle of a city.

“Her builder decrees that she ‘may never be sold for gold or silver’, but is built sturdy enough to one day see his great-great-grandchildren’s great-great-grandchildren living in her. The house watches the seasons pass, and wonders about the lights of the city, which grow ever closer.

Gradually, a city builds up around it. “The little house is in danger of demolition, the great-great-granddaughter of the builder sees the house and remembers stories that her grandmother told about living in just such a house, but far out in the country. When the great-great-granddaughter discovers that it is the same house, she arranges to have her moved out of the city, to a hill in the country where she can once again watch the seasons pass and live happily ever after.”