In honour of Leap Day and its attendant Year intended to create an image of someone - perhaps Yours Truly - in mid-air, mid-jump, mid-springing, mid-leaping.
In lieu of that here is an image of Canadian Geese in flight.
Wending back from a suburban gig noted about a hundred geese munching on fallen grain on train tracks.
This is what the feral do in the Historic Old First Ward, they glean.
Reaching for the cam noted a city bus lumbering around the corner of Hamburg and South Streets (the ol' Louisiana Bus, I believe Number 18, Danny Gare's number of yore) and thought OHNO, the bus will scare away the feasting geese.
Sure enough, the bus not only scared the wild fauna, but the bus driver was also transfixed by the sight of the hundred or so in the gaggle grounded.
This image is them fleeing.
Through the windshield.
It hearkens back to Our Country's wild west, road images, tales of journeying onwards.

Speaking of onwards.
This fine day encountered the annual road race dubbed the Shamrock Run, the afternoon when thousands rediscover, or re-remember, where the Historic Old First Ward actually is fercrissakes.
And then they overtake the neighborhood and make it nigh impossible to get to one's home for quite some time, until the last of the stragglers hobble to the finish line for a beer.
This happened.
YT, after meeting up with Annie, to lay upon her the six Police tix ordered on her (and her sibs's) behalf - via a handi CitiCardi - for a cuppa (and random community conversation) encountered a true member of the Police force. This true Police man, a leathery and scrappy man, informed YT that she had to hit the road.
Even after a quick explication that I needed to just go a short dist...
Black leather hands flailing in air.
But I have to...
Frantic waving of pleather-covered arms.
How long until the race is done.
Leather policeman is ignoring.
YT yells louder HOW LONG will the RACE BE ON.
Half an hour, with frantic waves of arms.
So YT proceeded onwards just then to purchase a bunch of futuristic b-day presents for loved ones.
Moral: When life gives you the leathery, turn it into an errand.
Saw Butch Morris and an orchestra of Middling City pals on various instruments last night, a Hallwalls gig in the big colorful Babeville Hall.
Lovely conversationettes, including one with Kelly down in The Ninth Ward, as she worked on a few spots to dispel the sinusitis headachis.

Fauna Love, Leaping Love.

Here, for Your erudition, are some images from the Empire State Capitol Castle - the funeral of Lincoln memorabilia, one of the lovely green velvet sofas (high backed, comfortable, very arts and crafts with cushion) outside the State Senate Chambers (and, really, a sofa Yours Truly would not mind owning, or a facsimile of thereof), and an exterior detail of such sandy sandstone as YT has never seen before. This pedestal looks, to YT, as if it's just been formed by damp sand. A triumph.

Today YT had a gig in a public school where I've done some work before, one on a rather obscure street off of a former lovely main drag on the east side. Across from the school about half of the houses are slated for demolition, with those telltale squares spraypainted on the facades, maybe even some helpful notes to those who may be doing the demo, or contemplating squatting or the like – Kitchen floor has holes, Floor may give way, and the ever-popular Gas cut off.
Drove to nearby Central Terminal (the site of this year's Artists & Models – hooray – as the light was oso Perfect and thought there could be images to be made.
The dark bricks looked rather mucky against the gray sky so YT rolled onwards.
Onwards to another gig.
Purchased flower seeds today, crafted (or collected, rather) by Richard of Faerie Seeds. Some that YT has planted before, like Nigella, and others new to this gardener.

Seeds of Love, Love of Spring.

Minding my own business, this time in Albany, I found myself once again drawn into (and lost amid) what is called The Million Dollar Staircase in the Capital Building.
The staircase in question is all sandstone and carved. I'd feel confident that I was on the right side of the building to discover that no, I was really not on the side that I needed to be and would have to go up up and up some more, cross over the senate chambers antechamber and go down again. On the right side.
So, this staircase has carved faces of luminaries who changed the course of human existence. And smaller carved heads of family members of stonecarvers. And art nouveau greenery, in sandstone.
At one more lost moment Yours Truly found herself looking into an Abraham-Lincoln-themed showcase with actual dried flowers from his funeral wreath. And a rosette from his hearse. And more.
Some of the artwork in the offices is great. Other offices are filled with requisite portraits of former officeholders. There were some outstanding nineteenth century etchings that were hand-colored.
On the kitsch end of the spectrum I saw a small print, about 5"x8" in a women's bathroom, a scene with some happy mountains, some happy sailboats, a happy sky, and a happy dappling of light. I especially liked how it was hung just a bit too high up on the wall.
Onwards to more shooting at the reception being hosted by the bigU.
Saw many beautiful rooms on the older side of things, old fireplaces, carved stone.
This complex of senate and assembly buildings is a maze of sorts, hence the chronic lost condition du jour.

Senatorial, Assembled Love.

Yours Truly, ever culinary and creative of Nature, is in throes of making Hoppin' John, a black-eyed pea-based dish of interesting origins.
Familiar with said dish as Polly always makes it for a friend get-together at holiday time.
YT is fabricating this many-stepped dish out of Joy of Cooking in honour of the culinary mentions in the last book club book read, Away by Amy Bloom. We Solid Gold Bookers rotate meeting places and always cook a light repast inspired by what we've read. The derring-do protagonist is Russian (so Russian fare works) but to augment the taste sensations YT suggested some Soul Food, too, as the protag is befriended by Gumdrop, a soulful, child-like lady of the night.
So, voilà, Hoppin' John.

...

It is now finished. After three hours or so I can deem it tasty, another version of rice, beans, secret spices, and pork product.

Onwards to book group.
Last night met Molly, Lisa, Lauren out for vino along the Avenue.
Discussed, amongst other things, the sad demise of New World Record, now officially over and out. Along that topic, discussed the purchasing of music - downloads v. discs.
Tomorrow bound for all-day and all-night bigU gig in Albany, the capital of this Empire State. Hoping that the limobus has plug-ins for laptops as this overworked laptop has meager off-plug powers.
Looking ahead to next VH1 gig, documenting things surrounding gaming and the WWF.
Yee Ha. Joysticks, Wii, oiled-up and steroided bods.

Hoppin' Love.