A year ago we were visiting Art the Wonder Dog and his person Uncle Merlin north of Boston and we made a foray up to Cape Ann in search of lobster rolls and oceanscapes. Found both in Rockport on Cape Ann.
Question posed, question answered, photo taken, and beer imbibed by Facebook friend Lee Wolf. Lee says the beer was an IPA but he can't remember the brand, which I take as a normal memory lapse and not an admission he sampled too many to keep track of. Anyway: At the Gulu-Gulu Cafe. Somewhere in the wilds north of Boston. July 31, 2015.
Wednesday morning. July 15, 2015. Stewart’s parking lot. New Paltz, New York.
Met up with this little beauty outside the Stewart’s in New Paltz this morning when I stopped in to buy milk. 1932 Model A, mostly. The body’s from a Model A. The frame includes parts from a Model T and the engine’s from a 1980 Camaro! Other parts are mix and match. Owner’s a guy in his sixties who bought it this past spring from a guy in his eighties. New owner says it’s all original but he means all the parts were ones the previous owner used to build it thirty-odd years ago. The new owner didn’t have to add anything but he did have to put it all together. It was sitting in pieces in the previous owner’s barn, having been taken apart for storage and possibly to be sold off part by part on ebay. The new owner dusted everything off, shined, polished, and lubed what needed shining, polishing, and lubing, refinished the woodwork, and gave it the purple paint job. Took him about three months. I asked him how it rides. He kind of winced. Suspension’s something he’s still working on.
“Bounces along,” he said. “Bounces you along. You know, like a doodlebug.”
Seems to me they bloomed late this year but we finally got some blossoms. Didn’t get a single flower last summer. Mrs M says I trimmed back the stalks too far the previous winter. Left it alone this past winter. So she’s probably right. She usually is about gardening matters.
Mannionville Ranch. Seven a.m. Saturday. June 27, 2015.
As I said in yesterday’s post, “It’s On Me”: How a free bag of bagels can expand and enrich the world, I now have a reason to go to Saugerties where I haven’t been except to pass through on my way somewhere else since July 2011. And then I didn’t spend much time in town. Instead I made my way down to where Esopus Creek empties into the Hudson River and went exploring out by the lighthouse there.
This is a view from the lighthouse keeper’s front porch. Well, it would be if there still was a lighthouse keeper. What there is is an innkeeper. It’s a bed and breakfast now.
Well, making notes for blogging under the trees, at any rate. They don’t have WiFi at the picnic tables at Valley Forge. Gives you renewed respect for what Washington and the troops went through, doesn’t it?
Behind the Cabin Gift Shop. Valley Forge National Park. Sunday morning. May 17, 2015.
Started a post this morning with, “The only hope most Americans have these days of climbing back up to solid footing in the middle class, paying off their debts, avoiding taking on more debt, and securing for themselves a halfway comfortable retirement is winning the lottery.”
I stopped there.
I thought, “Well, that’s a cheerful way to begin a Sunday morning.”
And what good would it do? You don’t need to be told that. The people who need to be told it don’t read the blog and wouldn’t care anyway because they’re the ones who’ve arranged the situation for their own advantage. They only want to make it worse for the rest of us. As far as they’re concerned, the problem isn’t that so many Americans are slipping downwards out of the middle class, it’s that not enough of us have slipped out of it yet. What this country needs in their opinion are more poor people desperate to hold onto the little they have. So, I decided, to give it up in favor of something more cheering.
And what, I ask you, is more cheering than a happy dog?
This is my pal Harley, one of my hosts when I stay over in Syracuse.
Now, don’t you feel better?
Photo by Steve Kuusisto who won’t let me take Harley home with me even though he knows Harley wants to come.