Happily Married

   Stacy and Jimmy put together a wedding that went beyond fine, in fact, I heard Gail describe it as the sweetest wedding in memory.  I'm assuming ours is excluded from consideration.

  Ellisons in a row.

 

  Siblings, still smiling. 

  Those who have married into the clan. 

  Aging or ageless brothers.  You make the call.

 Fixed it.

Four cousins (three first and a second), four others. 

  The on-deck batters.  They are putting together plans for Colleen and Quinn's October wedding in Chicago.  Sue and Brian are writing checks and checking venues.

Darryl wears a suit and tie for the second-to-last time (prediction by a brother).

Champions!  I can't think of a couple more enthusiastic about their lives together.  What a joy.

 No one was hurt.

GrassRoots '25

 

  Our crew managed to assemble the Infield Stage for another GrassRoots Festival.  It's getting harder every year to remember how it goes.  

   Nailed it.  Credit goes to Connie and Andy for figuring out the correct order of the sign pieces.

   Community Build 2025.  A "train station" pavilion for a park in Mecklenburg.  

   Last minute chores with the West Virginia boys and Andy.  Alan got an unnecessary free cup of coffee from the Cabaret vendor.

   Then the music started just as it always does, with Bubba George as it always has.

   A new treat came in the form of a big band that has been playing a regular gig in Ithaca at the Deep Dive.  They created a bit too much wind and concern arose about the strength of the stitching and tape on the awning, but it held and the weather was not a major factor for the rest of the weekend.

  Donna on Thursday, ahhh.

  A couple of Joes with a couple banjos.  I was not asked to sign either that went in a raffle, nor did I win either.

 

   Vieux Farka Toure was as legendary as his father from long ago.  The bass player in the traditional Malian outfit sure looked like he was from NJ, but it was actually Syracuse.

  It's a shame an odometer wasn't installed in the Wagon.  Considering it has been followed by at least 10 parents at all times, we could calculate roughly how many steps have been taken and CO2 inhaled.

 Always a dance during Jim Lauderdale.

   John Gurche painted again.  I think I heard this one is going to the Trumansburg Central School.

   A few pictures from the fine collection posted to the Ithaca Voice.  Joe was all over, Yxi's kept me well fed with arepas and their sides.  Neighbors with their kids are always cute enough to make the media.

 

    The Byrne Brothers (and their father).  Some Irish guys really got things going, first in the Dance Tent, then again at the Grandstand. 

  I'd say they are likely to go somewhere someday, but they've already been there.
 

Cimafunk came from Cuba and lived up to the name.

  Showing my trust in our work, I was willing to be on the guest platform with 30 people dancing their asses off, in addition to a maniacal 9-piece funk band.

   Gail and I had fun testing our counting skills while watching the percussionist from Cortadito do at least eight different rhythms.  We failed the test, and just watching his left foot was too much to keep track of for me.

  The GrassRoots Festival Chamber Orchestra has been doing their magic every Sunday morning for 20 years.  Somewhere along that time, they had Judy Hyman create a score for Jeb's song, "Mystic Waters."  I'm glad they're willing to bring it back for encore performances.  The conductor, Cayenna Ponchione, who used to live in the area, returns from Oxford, England every July for a welcome visit.

  One of those GrassRoots moments.  A bunch of young guys discovering new music/artists, and then discovering a long-lost twin.  They were all digging John Specker, a real driving force for the existence of the festival.
 

Gail and I missed the activities on Saturday this year, but Lukas Nelson's set on the Infield, the big event, was professionally taped and available for viewing any time here. 

 

  

The pavilion, tables and benches were finished up and moved to the planned location in Mecklenburg.  Check it out next time you're there.

   Some say GrassRoots is like New Years as it ends the waiting, but when it's over, the waiting begins.  Gail and I went down to the most local bar on Tuesday and heard Richie, Joe, Sam and a guitar player play some tunes.  This is supposedly the first song Richie wrote, and a groan went up from some when he sang the line, "Summer is over, tell me where has it gone."  It's only the midpoint of summer, but winter is coming... 

Up the Street and Around the Corners

Lopper Man had a job to do just a couple houses up the street.  The driveway is capable of containing the clippings from the whole hedge, but I only did the sidewalk-facing side.

Cindi Lopper has been getting into the act as well.

 

  Evidence of Lopper Man's cousin, The Buffalo Pothole Bandit made a visit to Ithaca and helped out the thousands of drivers who turn onto Columbia Street from South Aurora.  This one was deep, with little option to avoid it on the narrow, one-way section.  Homer has never been hiding in any shrub I cut back.

  Didn't need to go up the street for this poppy.  Hundreds adorned the garden this year from the end of June to the end of July.

  I have to go around the corner for the largest living American Chestnut tree.  The top is still looking healthy.

  The principal Six Mile Creek Natural Area steward threatened to quit after a tough day of work interrupted by several scofflaw dog owners.  The threat got results and several signs went up within hours.

  Trying to keep Roxy fit.

 

  Thanks to efforts from some Ithaca College staff and volunteers, the trails from campus to Buttermilk State Park are now clear again.  I admired old and new stones at Buttermilk, a bridge from way back, and fresh stone waiting to be sent across the gorge on a cable to be placed in the Gorge Trail.

   The extension of the South Hill Rec Way is underway.  I missed the most recent workday so I don't know how it looks east of Burns Road, but on a hot one from Banks, progress got to the first of at least two washouts in need of new bridges.  We'll get there, wherever There is.

   And back down the street.  New student, tourist, or returning local?

   At the end of the street, Gail and I have heard some yelling coming from across the gorge.  This post came up on FB a few hours after I heard him one day.