(Feb 15) A somewhat typical day.
It was a pizza at Colosseo’s for dinner night
(March 14 & 16) I am now a 5 mile walk to the train. Woe is me.
The journey starts out in Miller Place.
Off in the distance, you can see the smokestacks from the Port Jefferson Power Station, a few blocks from where I lived for eight years.
The geese are safe from Michael Bloomberg here
It looks a lot more rural here than it really is
No hunting. But really, it’s suburbia, honest!
Someone had a really lousy day.
Lousy enough to make them very angry. But that didn’t change the fact this is a very dangerous road.
And the weathervane has gone down again
Apple’s on fire! … just kidding. Maybe Tony stopped by.
I passed by the House of Viza, but he was not there.
The flowers seem somehow much larger this spring.
Time has not passed easily here in the wastelands.
Those of a certain age or those who’ve worked there recognize this as part of a long line of items bearing this (informal?) company motto.
Radio City has been on the verge of going under for at least 40 years now.
Cablevision owns everything but the building itself now, I presume this will be the last change before it slips into oblivion.
I pruned the deadwood and it showed its appreciation by blooming.
I bought this rose bush for my mother as a child. It now languishes on the side of my father’s house. As do I.