oh yeah, on the farm.
(Memorial Day weekend recap)
it’s been a very busy week, and I can understand having just experienced the passivity of the country, then coming back to work someone else’s work (as in, job), why some people have the inclination to GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CITY!
don’t get me wrong, life on the Farm ain’t easy. It’s heavy maintenance on multiple levels, but it sure is pretty. tempting. still. I love the concrete jungle, I really do.
But those who live in New York City are well-familiar with the sometimes overwhelming nature of this place, and the itch. The itch to get out. The need to see a beach that isn’t Coney Island. The need to be someplace unfamiliar in some capacity. The need to be unaccessible by mobile phone! And for one of the first times in my life I actually got out on a holiday weekend! I don’t normally travel on holidays because I hate putting up with the hordes that are everybody else traveling on holiday weekends. But this time there were other call-signs, and the itch was… well you’ll see it was worth scratching!
As suspected the trip started with capacity crowds and canceled buses. The lines were reeeeeeal long. A bus that normally transports 42 max riders had 90+ waiting and another bus had to be called in to handle the overflow. I traveled the Adirondack Trailways and let me tell you those guys can drive a bus! They know those roads so well and even managed to make up for a late departure while delivering the safest bus travel I’ve ever experienced. Unfortunately the sun set pretty soon after getting out of the city, so I didn’t get to see too much landscape. The journey to Oneonta passes through, among others, Kingston, Woodstock and a skeleton of a town, Delhi. The main drag the bus traveled through Woodstock contained window-shopping-inducing boutiques and bars aplenty, very exemplary of a previous site of resistance turned into contemporary bourgeois tourist trap. About 1/4 of the bus departed here, they were all well-dressed. Traveling on a bus. Yeah.
By the way, this trip will take us to the Fokish Farm, ran by my friend Hank and his wife Katerina, their two kids, two brother labradors Ty and Peter, Tiger the cat, ducks, chickens, other fowl friends, and lots of greenery!
The images below show the progression of the trip stops, and the general collapse of architecture from the well-groomed (Woodstock) to the generally abandoned (Delhi). Just beyond though: paradise!
first stop, Kingston
can’t remember where, I think Mount Pleasant? or Pine Hill?
can’t remember, I think Margaretsville?
I arrived late, nearly 11pm, without dinner. Upon getting to the house I enjoyed a small snack-meal before joining Hank’s children around their newly-acquired Xbox 360 with Hank zonked out on the couch while managing to hold steady a glass of Scotch on the rocks – “years of experience” as he would comment upon waking and being made fun of by his kids!
I hope your Memorial Day holiday weekend was as fun as mine:
The only time I’d previously been to the Fokish Farm it was winter, and cold, with occasional snow flurries. This time, it was hot! I spent the first few hours re-engaging the farm, this time seeing where their food plots are (including seeing almost everything in its baby state), while walking on freshly cut grass, and having at least 50% of my peripheral vision filled with greenery, no matter where one looked!
BABY CHICKENS! recent additions to the farm!
The dogs love to explore. We went on an extensive creek walk, and being labradors they’re more than willing to get a little wet to get to the other side of the creek, stranding me to negotiate the rocks (I fell in!).
a Duck Parade!
Asleep at the Internet. 37 baud baby!!!
At one point we took a trip into town to pick up supplies and while we were at it dropped the kids off at a friend’s farm (above). The best part to seeing some other farms is that everybody builds their spaces differently, even when use-function is similar; they’re each reflective of the inhabitant’s psychology and experience.
(audio from television is me and the boys watching The Iron Giant – brilliant animation! if you haven’t seen it, watch it!)
From one ginger to another, Tiger tracked me down, jumped to my lap, and cleaned my face.
but a weekend is only a weekend, and eventually one must return. above are Hank’s kids preparing to come back to the city with us for a few days (again, back to work). Below, the Sunnyside train yard, the Empire State off in the distance. I love New York City. the detritus, the hollow industrialism, the colors of fluorescents in the distance and the night lights, home sweet home.