Wife, writer, tinkerer, grower of food. I'm happiest outside our rambling farmhouse with a basket looped on my arm, picking dinner from the garden. That's joy right there. Please follow along; I'm so glad you're here!
The thing about being a band wife is, sometimes he's gone and life is bland and tedious. But then, sometimes, he comes home, and life is fun and AWESOME! So it was this weekend. It had been almost two weeks with zipzilchzero weekend chill time for the two of us, and though I can suck it up like the best of them, eventually the lack of fun time starts to wear.
This weekend, Patrick had a Friday night gig, that's it! So we slept in Saturday morning, got up, waited for the grass to dry so P could mow, then we loaded up the Del and got the hell out of Dodge.
It was a humid and brooding afternoon, really odd for October in upstate, but we weren't about to complain. We headed to Cherry Valley, home of one of the most awesome old cemeteries ever, and one of the best and most fun Mexican restaurants ever, but on our way we stopped at Betty and Wilbur Davis State Park.
The leaves were at their peak, and the woods were so pretty.
Quickly, the sun began to set.
And just as quickly, the mist began to rise...
...which meant that, fifteen minutes later when we arrived at aforementioned spectacular cemetery in Cherry Valley, the scene was just right for a haunted photo shoot. I'm not especially in love with Halloween kitsch, but this kind of spooky I can dig. There are graves here from the Cherry Valley Massacre, when 14 soldiers and 30 civilians were killed by a mixed force of British, Loyalists, and Indians...
Then we ate our Mexican food and drank our margaritas, and headed homeward...
Sunday I raked and cooked and harvested 20 pounds of parsnips and Patrick worked on patching the siding around the front porch roof. And then we drank a couple of beers and frolicked with Del. And had pizza for dinner. It was perfect.