A couple weeks ago, I took a bus trip to my mother's house, located in the heart of central NY. Here’s a handful of pictures.
I guess it’s true what they say about warm milk--assuming Quik is still milk-based.
These two are not traveling together. Ms. Window got on towards the end of the trip, and was a bit distraught over the situation. Earlier, Ms. Sleepy explained to another passenger that she’d “taken some medication that wasn’t agreeing” with her. By the time we pulled into the station, Ms. Sleepy had nestled even deeper into Ms. Window’s lower back. I offered assistance, but Ms. Window shook her head and sadly turned away.
Here’s a picture of some hills.
Grandma Moses was born in NY. Suck it, VT.
I realized I’d forgotten to pack an appropriate amount of shirts, and went rummaging through my mother’s dresser drawer. Don’t judge me. Anyway, I found this classic, circa 1991 or ‘92.
Don’t Be a Dummy: Never sign anything at a fair booth regarding your right to sue.
My brother got this t-shirt in the Trooper's booth at the NY State fair in exchange for volunteering to "ride" a crash simulation machine. The point was to show how even low speed accidents can be hazardous. Before he could take part, he had to waive his right to sue if he was injured. He got whiplash.
Here’s some more scenery.
According to Wikipedia, there are no notable figures from Smyrna, NY.
I found this on the kitchen table!
Last time I was home, I found a California Raisin.
Because it’s $1,000 cheaper to get a haircut upstate, I did so. This poster stared at me while I waited:
Back in my day, sugarin’ resulted in delicious pancake syrup!
I keep recounting the five fingers on that right hand, because it looks like there's at least seven. That guy's a pro. And I wish him well in the painful removal of his body hair.
Just look at all that greenery. Jealous?
It takes a whole lot of excrement to keep those hills so verdant. Good thing you can't smell a picture.
Goodbye, Upstate NY! See you in the spring, when you thaw.