Thursday, September 10, 2015


During the madness that was my past week I had friends in town. If you have ever gone home you know there are usually a million people you want to see and if you are lucky, time will be on your side and you may get to see half of them.

I was anxious to meet my friend Laura's husband (they have only been married 23 years)!  Laura and I were friends many moons ago, in high school when we were much younger than we are now, somehow we slipped out of each others lives, but every so many years we talk and we still relate on so many levels.

You can't really catch up on 30 years in even a couple of hours of chatting.  Somehow we don't need to catch up on all of the details.  We were and continue to be friends, a friend I wish was closer than almost the length of the country, but we make do with the time that we do find to visit with each other.

I had been anxiously cleaning my house in the chance that they were going to drop in on me at home. Laura would understand my piles of clutter EVERYWHERE neatly stacked, but I didn't know if her husband would.  I am always eager to make a good first impression on those who are important to those who are most important to me.

My house was not perfect but it was passable and the piles were reduced greatly, the floors were cleaned  and mopped and the dishes were done.  There were no boogie men hiding in the closet, and I am proud to say that I hid nothing in any closets.  Mainly because there is little room and I am not eager to re visit the work I still haven't found time for in a year or five!

We had plans for Sunday evening as it stood Friday since they did not make it to my house in the morning and a phone call locked them firmly on my calendar for Sunday.  Saturday afternoon we (Dad and I) began discussing the Jazz Festival in Kingston.

Thomas was asleep on the couch, Dad was interested, the guy I had gone on some dates with wanted me to go for a motorcycle ride, I am not eager to be the girl you don't want to go out with since I smoke and at the same time the girl you want to hang out with, so I was up for the Jazz option with a side trip to Hudson.

I googled some directions.  Dad started persuading the sleeping Thomas to come for a ride.  Thomas was not keen on hearing either of our voices and asked us as nicely as possible to be quiet.  I phoned Orleans Dave to see if he wanted to partake in a road trip.

Thomas was suddenly up and vocal about being "replaced".  He sat up, his messy and tangled hair draped across his face, eyes not even open.  Inquiring about said road trip.  We gave him the details.  Of course he had been to Hudson to bring Dan Rupe home that evening after the Art Talk, but had no idea what Hudson was all about.

He had heard me discuss Hudson and Carrie Haddad Gallery and Nolita and countless other people and places which I simply love and adore from the architecture of the Churches and the buildings, the Gallery's and the Shops.

That was almost okay - then my Dad mentioned the Jazz Festival and at that he began to protest.  Tom doesn't step out the door let alone his comfort zone unless it is into another comfort zone since 2009.  It is really aggravating at times considering how active a life he had before the Great Recession and the end of life as we knew and loved it.

"It's just a small one Tom - like Third Thursday", I tried (knowing I was probably lying).  "We won't be there long and there will be food."  I tried, hoping he would just come along, knowing once he got in the car it would be fine.  Even if it wasn't I wasn't above a wee bit of manipulation and bribery in the name of overcoming a fear.

Orleans Dave arrived.  I was still preparing for the road trip, rolling cigs for two now instead of just myself.  We were soon ready and on the road, directions in hand and away we went after a brief stop at Dad's for his jacket, just in case.

We arrived in good time to Warren Street in Hudson.  It was lateish on Saturday to be arriving and most of the businesses were closing or closed.  There were a couple of Art Openings going on and we walked through one - but I was not in my proper persona for an Art Opening, so I checked out the Art and headed outside.

 I did a little photographic window shopping along the way.

The horse caught my eye because it reminds me of the Blue Horse I have on my shelf.  Everyone but me hates the blue horse, but I love it!

This green candy dish caught Tom's attention and the blown glass was really cool as well.

This piece always catches my eye as well, as one of the welcoming things I love about Hudson and Warren Street.

I am going to hate to visit one day and find it gone!

Likewise the window of Art pictured below. I never go in the Gallery which is more of a furniture shop, the Art is not labeled clearly, but it is one window I must stop at each and every time!

We made it up the street to Carrie Haddad's Gallery and as always it was nice to talk to Linden, who helped me out so marvelously with the July show when I used artists from Carrie's Gallery.

Carrie wasn't in and that was disappointing.  I always love to see and talk to her and I wanted to pick her brain, part of the reason I even participated in the journey.

Ah well, off to Kingston and Jazz.  I had gotten the directions and my first mistake was not following them.

Instead of 9GS I took 9 something or other.  I was headed in the right direction, just not the right road for my directions.  After a while we tripped into the second part of the directions which was great.  I was all ready to begin following them when my Dad chimed in that he knew where to go and to take 32.

Now 32 wasn't even on my directions and he had no clue "where" our destination was.  I was foolish enough to listen to the man who always ended up getting lost in the worst parts of town without fail.  We drove through one seedy neighborhood after another, looped, rewind, fast forward and no closer to our Jazz Festival.

A 36 minute ride had extended into 1 hour and 45 minutes and much of that was in Kingston!  So he saw an Irish Festival Sign and said - "maybe it is down there" it wasn't.  There was a nice Marina and we had gone over the coolest bridge as well, so we parked the car and stretched our legs and took some photos in the dying light.

By the time we left the Marina it was quarter to 8 and the festival ended at 8.  No chance of food there so we began the "food" conversation.  Dave mentioned a place a ways back with the "Best" wings.

I slightly recalled what he was talking about and proceeded to backtrack (which was not an easy feat)!  Somehow we managed to find "Planet of Wings" and when we were seated at the table with a large order of boneless hot wings and some fries and some bone in garlic butter wings we all agreed that the wings were the best.  All the way home, despite being full, someone would wish we had ordered some to bring with us they were that good!

Of course while we were waiting for our food my girl Laura phoned wondering what I was doing.  I of course was not available for the one thing that I had been waiting for months to do! (Story of my life!!)

We made our way home, dropped off Dad - late for his meds but happy to have gotten out on a couple of towns.  Dave, Tom and I headed over to my house, Dave took off to his house and Tom and I laughed about our crazy adventure.

Our adventures may not be what we thought they would be when we left on them, but they are one thing, fun, interesting and you never know what you will see!  It is definitely not the destination but the journey!

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