friskin

Everything here is fine, between all the comings and goings of strangers. This weekend is the Regatta. It seems that for boat lovers this side of the Mississippi, Blue Mountain Lake is the place to be. Fortunately, after forty-eight hours of rain, the sun seems to be tentatively peeking through. Maybe. A little... I'll probably not make it down to the water today, anyhow, so it's not really my concern. The only event I really want to see is canoe jousting. And if I COULD go down for that, I'd most certainly want to participate as well, and that could be disasterous.

I'm coming home for Father's Day and to visit the New York State Library Firefighters Collection. By the middle of next week, I will be able to tell you everything you ever wanted to know about Indian Fire Pumps.

Oh, and something else to look forward to: Plattsburgh (and Montreal) next week, followed directly by a move up to the house on the hill. Debauchery and moral infirmity. Yesss.