Sunday, March 24, 2013

shaking the airport

Not many folk know that the Albany airport once had another life: It was the Home of the Shakers. Not much is left, just a few old abandoned buildings: I had mean to visit Ann Lee's grave. Maybe this week. Across the road, it's a different story: and spring is finally here, since I got my bent out:

Sunday, March 17, 2013

The wrong kind of irish

Begorrah, I should be drinking on of these: But, Instead I'm drinking my true national drink: And that ain't no Long Island Iced Teas It's a little different being scots-irish. I don't think we had much emphasis on drinking and green stuff. Unless it's this kind: That there's Collard Greens, y'all. You see, most of my kin moved here to escape religous prosection. That's probably why Southerners take religion more seriously - We're still descended from those folk who got the 'God Gene', whereas most of folks came to America to escape religous prosection. Does that mean I think the country should resemble this? No, but that also doesn't mean I can't admire General Lee flummoxing the yankees once again. Until next week, eat them greens!

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Strum that thing

So Saturday, it was supposed to be 45, so I got out on my bike right? well, there was six inches of snow and it was only 21, so to Crossgates I went: and then back to the Guitar Center. $60 later: It's used Lucero. For those whose say you need to spend more, consider that Rock music got started with a Teenager playing a $10, 10-year old Kay. I think just for picking, it'll be alright: and I wound up at the Times Union Center for a Devils game: Today, I did get out for a ride:
From 2013-03-10
From 2013-03-10
From 2013-03-10
and I think I found another new hobby:

Sunday, March 03, 2013

The quiet day

The cathedral had a quiet day: It's a half day where you meditate on the meaning of life. Me, I was bit fidgitey, and spent most of my time wandering around and about: I was thinking about my two muses: Father Gibault and Elvis. Father Pierre Giubault was a priest in what became the state of Illinois during the american revolution: I ran acrosss him when I doing my first attempt at fiction writing, and he's stayed with me. I've always felt a bond with him, and maybe one day, I'll be able to do his story justice. And then there's 'Brother' Presley: When I moved mom back to Memphis, I was watching this very video, and felt something reaching ou to me. I followed that dream: and it's a hit (with the writer's guild, at least). I've got him all the way up to Opry appearance. Meanwhile, back in Albany: The snow was mostly gone, so I went for a bike ride! only 10 miles, but hey, I got out. And Elvis? He's been speaking to me ("Ms. Jana, you want to write about me? Well, get yourself a guitar, gal. It don't have to fancy. Heck, look at my first one"). So I off I went to the local Guitar. It appears I'm not cool enough for a guitar, since no one wanted to wait on Moi. oh,well, maybe I'll try a local store or a cheapie online one. I was going to ride again today, but :