Rural Music

Now that summer has officially ended, I am reflecting on the local events that mean summer to me.
One summer tradition is The Bainbridge Old Time Band concerts. Only one-hour long, three to four times each summer, outside if the weather is good, and always associated with desserts and church-fundraisers. The season usually begins with a Strawberry Shortcake Special. The concert pictured above happened toward the end of blueberry season...and for $2.50 I got the works. The choices included blueberry cobbler -- which I devoured, blueberry buckle, and a blueberry cake, topped with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream, and garnished with a use-serve-yourself helping of blueberry sauce.
The band which has grown in size since the first time I heard them...used to play from the small gazebo at the other end of the park...is now up to 15 players. The evening's program included marches and waltzes and a medley of Scottish tunes sandwiched between the national anthem and God Bless America. Folding chairs, caps of white-haired couples, the band leader is the local maple syrup producer and his mom leads the last tribute song.
There are many other musical offerings in this area -- people raved about the Blues festival this past weekend on the bridge in Binghamton and my family and I enjoyed the line-up at this year's Colorscape, but summer just wouldn't be summer without the Bainbridge Old Time Band.


   What events mean summer to you??

Coffee Meets Tea

 

 

Alan accompanied me on my morning walk on Sunday...and we stopped for breakfast at Henry's....which we do every few months or so. Always an interesting group of folks...hunters, clients, neighbors, city folk up for the weekend...some reading local newspapers, all eating the diner-esque food and drinking pretty dilute coffee. There are often folks sporting various caps and shirts -- not with designer logos -- but with names of favorite sports teams or hunting slogans or ??

And so while drinking my coffee I met the guy pictured, all proud of his recent participation at a Tea Party rally. His shirt says it all...of course, we disagree on most everything and then again....a few items like "I am not going to take...dependence on foreign oil." Hmmm...even if we agree on that, I am positive that we would vehemently disagree on the means to achieve it!!

And to end on local taste... you've probably seen a "ship in a bottle" before, right? A small model carefully  built and encased in glass. Well, here's the upstate equivalent....a cucumber in a plastic soda bottle. Plant a seed, give it light and moisture, and see what grows. Even if you don't appreciate the aesthetics, you may like the metaphor.

Shooting My Way Into My Sixties

Rebecca and friend Lauren doing field exercises...what to do with your gun when crossing fences while hunting.

Lauren at mandated shotgun shoot.

Although all of us shot, Rebecca was the only one to hit the IFO ("identified flying object"! -- an orange frisbee-like object tossed into the air by the man behind her via remote control, to simulate the flight of a bird)

All us Annie Oakley's had to follow this sign to the facilities!

There's a lot to be said about why I've taken up hunting -- now -- after recently turning 60. And maybe I'll straighten out some of my curved thoughts about it soon. Suffice to say that after some ambivalence and trepidation, I took the Hunter Safety class with Rebecca and her friend Lauren.We got our Hunter Safety Certifications yesterday after 12 hours of class-time -- with written and field tests ...and now it's time to get our hunting licenses. Venison anyone?

The End of Summer

My good intentions went awry but here we are -- a new season, a new beginning.
The summer was full with the usual and the "unusual" -- June vacation to Alaska, a CT weekend to visit friends, day trips to Woodstock and Cooperstown.
A party celebrating the life and times of our good friend Irwin, who died at the the end of May.

I've been walking every morning this week. Sometimes with Alan, sometimes alone. Strolling many familiar paths. A quiet neighborhood, of overgrown brush, mushrooms and falling leaves, broken barn windows, the last of the old slate sidewalks, clothesline friendly, with tall deer-deterring garden fences, of goldenrod and neighbors stopping to chat.