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!
Hudson, NY. Finding ourselves with a rare summer weekend with no gigs, and no rehearsals for Patrick, and no obligations, either, we made a brief escape. Having fallen in love with Kingston, NY, last fall, and feeling like we needed to do further explorations in the Hudson valley, we headedto the town of Hudson, at my dad's recommendation. It's a tony town. In a lot of ways, it feels like the richer parts of New York City. But we skirted politely around the high-end, mega-hoity-toity designer furniture shops and antiques shops where I knew I wouldn't be able to afford even a doorknob, and found a couple of more accessible ones, and a record store where we got a Norman Blake album for $5. Mainly, though, we walked and took in the architecture and enjoyed just being. There really is something magical about sitting on a bar stool in a town that is not your town, with no where to go, nothing to do, no one who knows where you are or expects you back.
We stayed late. We walked down to check out a waterfront craft market-y thing with live music, then we tried a hike at the Greenport Conservation Area, but the flies.... oh, the flies. If I could make deer flies extinct... do you hear me? deer flies and English ground ivy, Lord. I'd be a happy woman.
But I digress. We found a terrific, friendly little bar/restaurant and ate a wonderful meal out back in their courtyard garden. A firefly came in to check out my glass of Chardonnay. It was special.
Something tells me I'll be thinking about this day in Hudson for a long time.