Do anything exciting last night???

“Went to Pitt, PA to see Leftover Salmon last night, and If anyone likes bluegrass music this is a band to check out. Polyethnic cajun slamgrass is kind of how they describe their music...I describe it as toe-tappin, body-bouncin bastardazation of traditional music. The Mandolin/violin/electria and acoustic guitar player is so awesome to watch and listen too...I don't think anyone could NOT appraciate his effort.

Of course I'm biased...I've seen them a buttload of times. Like last Wed...went to Columbus, OH to se them.

There's a reason why I keep coming back to see them...you all should check them outwhen they come to your area. You won't be disappointed!”

“Went for a walk with running girl and went to bed early because she ran a 10K this morning.”

“Sounds like a cool band Buddur.
I installed MS Whistler beta 2 last night and was up until 2am tinkering with the new bells-n-whistles.”

“nope. But tonight is a company party, and tomorrow night...ACDC concert”

“Went to bed at 9pm. Got up at 1130pm,300pm and 630am to feed Abby.”

“Left job teaching hi-skool in duh (North) Bronx at 3 pm. Stopped home (10 mins. away) to pick up ready-to-go pack. Drove 1 hr. to a spur of the AT. Started hiking in a soaking mist at 5:10 p.m. (it would freeze overnight, leaving a trace of accumulation). The north-facing hollows were still choked with deep snow, but sweating and cursing, made way up mtn. The trail itself was over 1/2 snow-free, and it's so rocky in that area that even after coupla days of heavy rain, mud wasn't a problem.

Arrived at Bald Rocks Shelter (at 2.5 mi., which I shared with coupla Utahns coupla weeks ago)externally soaked. Was overjoyed to find the shelter vacant as mist suffused the forest. Was carring ingredients for casserole (the new foil-pouch tuna), but kept things simple, a Mountain House dinner.Someone had left a little dry wood inside the shelter, but I didn't want the preoccupation of a fire. Candle-lantern and my ol' Svea 123R were fine. Brewed herbal tea and mixed in a little Baccardi 151 (didn't get ANNIHILATED or anything). Wrote poetry (Thinkin' now if I should show y'all).

During Easter vacation, a buddy and I are gonna go on a REAL Catskill trip for 3 days (gonna be scads of snow there), but I had a successful and idyllic twenty-hour trip, leaving from duh Bronx. Look, I'm boring as hell usually and not a show-off or anything. But here's a poem I wrote last night:


Song of the Reddleman

The reddleman upon the heath,
Doth drift like windcast seed,
O'er hillock and greenbearded nook,
Through the blind copse,
Down brae and briar where routs
the slumbering stag in a lumbering lope.

For idle words, he shirlds no vice,
Though his beard hath an affinity for ice,
And a cushion of phlox for a corpulent steed,
He hath no need for a nag to lock horns with the fog.

With the window to the world, Spread below,
He takes a halfpenny peek.
Blind to the vision beyond barrow of peat,
In the deepness of his barricaded heart,
Is love.


---Peace Y'All”

“Left job teaching hi-skool in duh (North) Bronx at 3 pm. Stopped home (10 mins. away) to pick up ready-to-go pack. Drove 1 hr. to a spur of the AT. Started hiking in a soaking mist at 5:10 p.m. (it would freeze overnight, leaving a trace of accumulation). The north-facing hollows were still choked with deep snow, but sweating and cursing, made way up mtn. The trail itself was over 1/2 snow-free, and it's so rocky in that area that even after coupla days of heavy rain, mud wasn't a problem.

Arrived at Bald Rocks Shelter (at 2.5 mi., which I shared with coupla Utahns coupla weeks ago)externally soaked. Was overjoyed to find the shelter vacant as mist suffused the forest. Was carring ingredients for casserole (the new foil-pouch tuna), but kept things simple, a Mountain House dinner.Someone had left a little dry wood inside the shelter, but I didn't want the preoccupation of a fire. Candle-lantern and my ol' Svea 123R were fine. Brewed herbal tea and mixed in a little Baccardi 151 (didn't get ANNIHILATED or anything). Wrote poetry (Thinkin' now if I should show y'all).

During Easter vacation, a buddy and I are gonna go on a REAL Catskill trip for 3 days (gonna be scads of snow there), but I had a successful and idyllic twenty-hour trip, leaving from duh Bronx. Look, I'm boring as hell usually and not a show-off or anything. But here's a poem I wrote last night:


Song of the Reddleman

The reddleman upon the heath,
Doth drift like windcast seed,
O'er hillock and greenbearded nook,
Through the blind copse,
Down brae and briar where routs
the slumbering stag in a lumbering lope.

For idle words, he shirlds no vice,
Though his beard hath an affinity for ice,
And a cushion of phlox for a corpulent steed,
He hath no need for a nag to lock horns with the fog.

With the window to the world, Spread below,
He takes a halfpenny peek.
Blind to the vision beyond barrow of peat,
In the deepness of his barricaded heart,
Is love.


---Peace Y'All”

“Yo! Sorry for the double-entry. Thought computer crashed.”

“Sure, my exciting night was responding to Trail Talk threads!”

“Susan and I went to the Home Show in town last night. She's looking for ways to keep me busy this Summer. Looks like it may be Hardwood floors. AAAAAAAAAAAARRRG!!!”

“No.”

“Went to see a friend's band in Cleveland.”

“Yeah. I did an all-nighter last night. Didn't wake up to go to the bathroom once!
(I know, another "old" joke)”

“Actually, I was rather aimless the last two nights. But Sunday night, I enjoyed my younger son's excitement about his class trip to DC on (he left Monday morning).. and last night I enjoyed having an evening to focus on my older son.”

“I had several Amish amigos over for an amicable (and yumblilicious) meal!”

“Got back last night from a 5-day weekend in VA with all the aunties, uncles, and cousins, watching one of the cousins get married.

It's my Mom's side of the family, and they party for days on end, fueled a good deal by my uncle's homemade schnapps.

It's tough to keep up; luckily I was trained in Wisconsin.”

“snackboy--did you take any photos?”

“Naw. The Amish are berry camera shy.”