Thoughts, experiences and adventures from a resident of DelSo aka Delaware Avenue South in Albany, N.Y.
Tuesday was the 5th anniversary of Insurrection day. I understand that this occasion was marked by the current regime as a day to unleash a new stream of lies about the occasion, but I know what I witnessed sitting at my desk crying - I had been watching the attempt of Donald Trump’s minions to … Continue reading Death comes in threes
Almost 24 hours later, I think I’m finally able to attempt to share the finest moments of my time in Florence. This was my fourth visit to Florence, if you count the single day I spent there taking in David and having a shitty meal in a place that even we knew, was a tourist … Continue reading Dinner at home in Firenze
My previous post about the zipper that ate the panties, dubbed by SJ as “jumpsuit jail,” garnered some really enthusiastic comments on Friday and I really do appreciate reader friends reaching out to share their enjoyment of something I wrote. I think we could all use a laugh, particularly these days, and I was happy … Continue reading A funny thing
The time I spent recently in Montreal was fundamentally sans agenda. Yes, there were a couple of jazz shows for which I had tickets, but we didn’t have as much as a single reservation for dining or specific plans for the majority of the roughly 72 hours we were in Canada. Being wide open leaves … Continue reading Quelle surprise!
Warning: if you’re inclined to respond to conversations about (minor) medical situations the way I react to seeing open wounds, skip this post and go on your way. It’s a topic that is not for everyone. But first, let me lead with this simple fact - everyone should have at least one person in their … Continue reading A hell-broth boil
When I changed into my “chores” jeans, I paused for a moment to consider how many years it had been since I purchased this particular pair of Levi’s. I did the math, thinking back to that long ago trip anniversary to Maine and our visit to the outlets in Freeport. My first and last, so … Continue reading Broken in, not distressed
My Uncle Eamon’s kitchen, Broomall, PA, Fall 1989 The first time I met my Aunt Rosita was at a family wedding. This event marked the second time in my life that I shared space with a relative other than my mother and brother. I had been collected from the airport by Uncle Eamon and Uncle … Continue reading Saying goodbye to a generation
DelSo 