Drove six or so hours in driving rain to arrive in New Paltz, with Heady, for Justy's wedding day.
Just kayaked about the lake, in a ravine surrounded by the Maine aroma of pines.
In an hour will be all gussied up in cocktail dress and spiky heels that Yours Truly has realized was, quite possibly, not the best shoe choice for an outdoor wedding to take place - the true nuptials - on damp grass.
Last night, upon our arrival, ditched the auto and headed into a wine bar.
Then onwards to another, with promising name, Bacchus. Despite its name its wine offerings were marginal and it was time to text Justy to announce the arrival.
So off we drove to meet up with the gang at Le Fevre B&B where we discovered that the assembled had just broken a teak table to bits some how.
Hobnobbed for quite some time until the pending groom slid off to his room, and there was discussion of hot tubbing.
Yours Truly pronounced that this was probably a very terrible idea.
And when inside the B&B searching aimlessly for a WC as I admired the decor, ran into EvaW of way-early Artvoice days. I didn't recognize her at first and when she said HiNancy I just kind of smiled and warbled out a hello.
Onwards we drove up the dark and winding road to Mohonk and, just as I did a few days ago, found myself (and of course YT was minding her own business) driving up a pathway not intended for cars.
A few days ago, on a Shiney Apple gig, drove up a bike path as wide as my vehicle until I asked my co-driver, Jocelyn, if this was in fact a road or bikepath.
Last night Heady and I circled about looking for a P Lot, or a valet person.
Circling around some plantings, the spa, what appeared to be a reception area.
I was just about to ditch the car alongside this historic Victorian building, tuck it into a little shady corner, when suddenly there were two Mohonk Mountain House employees ready to take the car away from us.
It was like our own little privee Indy 50.
Today Nephew and his bandmates perform at Albright-Knox Art G and for that his Auntie is swelling with pride.
Time to transform from champeen kayak lady to over-heeled wedding guest, with cam.

Love of Adventure.

One of the weekend highlights was dancing to the powerful strains of Wipeout coming over Hoyt Lake, snaking up the bike path walkway, and up the curly-q bridge to where Laura and I were walking across, with umbrellas.
I shouted Laura, you know how much I love this song ... and danced atop the bridge, enraptured - as always - with the song's raucous jubilance.
Even if performed sans drum solo, as was this Surf Daddies rendition.
Great guys, know them, but no Wipeout solo.

Minding my own business, as is my diurnal wont, situated my own self in the BigU's Stobba (my new special easy name for Starbucks) to edit&burn.
Next to a guy just lost in thought, staring out the window.
Thought the weight of the world sat on the bridge of his nose.
Girlfriend pregnant. Primary Day worries (hey, go vote. now.). Bombed an exam.
Who knows.
But suddenly he looked over and then rustled his own self together and left.
Yours Truly did not realize that her little earbud plug was not fully pushed into the MacBPro so everyone in my vicinity was being treated to Band of Horses.
A grand thing.
Quickly I meliorated that situ but Mr. Weighty left.
And behind me, as Pandora was firing up, I heard some unbearable corporatespeak behind me. A phrase that I do not wish to spread along.
Another guy near me has a mac with the shiney happy screen and YT is oso glad to not have that model, extra contrast or not.
We photogs prefer an E surface.

Time for edits and making pixel magic.

YT Voting for Love, Love.

++ And happiest birthday to one of my big Loves, Rio, today.
And always.

In honour of Dorota's birthday (today), here is a found image on the laptop from one of our Euro-forays, entitled "Bad Haircut and Mona Lisa."
This was past the days when mousse was a necessary tool in the beauty kits of all genres of party people, so not sure what transpired in this person's WC that morn.

Dorota and I met out last night after conversing several times over the weekend.
It all began with a strong feeling that I must call her. And voilà, she was in the Middling City. We had some nice white, and toasted with some dry champ at midnight.
Rio's b-day is Tuesday ... her 9/9 to my 10/10.

Today, amongst other things, shot a wedding at the MC's venerable Kleinhans Music Hall and a grifter drifted in, replete with oversized carpetbag.
She was bounced and followed and apprehended.
Upon bag inspection it was discovered that she had two large knives in there.

Love of birthday happiness.