#wynantskill

[videntesingabinete]

Videncia en Lillington

#Tauro: cuando te molesta algo mucho, por mas que trates de disimular te delata tu cara

Tarot Y Videncia:

Llámanos Ahora

🇺🇸 Estados Unidos: +1 21 37 84 79 82

Para resolver los problemas del corazón y entregarnos a la felicidad. ¡Los temas del corazón son tan complejos! Cuando el amor no ha tocado a la puerta nos sentimos ansiosos por encontrar a la paraje ideal y una vez que la tenemos nos enfrentamos al miedo de perderla. En cualquiera de los casos no hay de qué preocuparnos porque el tarot amor nos brinda la ayuda necesaria para triunfar en una relación.

[porcelainapparition]

Wynantskill, New York

built in 1792

[almfineartandphotography]

#OnThisDate: Sunday, March 27,2022, my first stop of the morning was to Grafton Lakes State Park to attend “Maple Syrup Day”. I met with an acquaintance of mine who was reporting on this event for News10ABC. The majority of the event was held inside the welcome center. Guests could sample maple rice crispy treats, learn about the boiling of maple syrup, eat a maple donut and ice cream, & find out how the syrup is tapped from the tree. This was the first of two events I attended that day as in the afternoon I was at the Wynantskill American Legion attending the “Louie Louie” marathon. And how was my day a year later?! Busy-tending to production business at work & watched the season finale of The Bachelor. Happy Spring!! (📸: Photos by Amy L. Modesti using her Apple IPhone 13 Pro. 3/27/2022) #ALMFineArtAndPhotography, #TuesdayThrowback, @graftonlakesstatepark, @news10abc , #LastYear, #EventPhotography, #RensselaerCounty, #ItsHereInRensselaer, #RensselaerCountyNY, #PhotosByAmyModesti, #SundayMarch272022, #MondayMarch272023, #NowTuesdayMarch282023, #MapleSyrupDay, #WayLatergram, #Spring2022, #March2022, #NickMontera, #AmysTimeVault (at Grafton Lakes State Park) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqUaphIAnpo/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[apwmagazine]

Frank Daley Obituary: New York musician is Dead, Cause of Death

Frank Daley Obituary: New York musician is Dead, Cause of Death

  Frank Daley Obituary: New York musician is Dead, Cause of Death On December 19, 2022, Frank J. Daley Jr., 63, passed away unexpectedly in Samaritan Hospital. He was Judith Engel’s partner and the devoted son of Margaret Rafter Daley of Wynantskill and the late Francis J. Daley Sr. He was born in Albany. He had spent the majority of his childhood in Troy and graduated from Troy High School in…

[minion-squad]

Rensselaer Leaf Pick Up and Removal by the Minion Squad

[christmaslightinstallation-blog]

Check out this #northgreenbush business now with smart soffit lighting to celebrate their everyday! #🥳 #😍 #guyswhodecorate #wynantskill #pretty #omg #smart #lights (at Wynantskill, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CTWCb8_DidI/?utm_medium=tumblr

[tritooth]

The Sky #nikond4s #sky #landscape #wynantskill #newyork #clouds (at Wynantskill, New York)

[penaltybox14]

@zeitheist @darknight-brightstar @squad51goals @its-skadi At Wynantskill again: Finding family whether it wants to be found or not.  Davey learns some things, not least of which is that Lufty Parker is not quite as grave and terrible as he appears. 

Davey sleeps hard into the day, deeper and darker than he has in a long, long time. 

He dreams: Looking out across a river, windswept after a spring storm.  The streets are damp but the sun, cracking the clouds with its sharp golden teeth, is bright and warm.  The skinny city trees (and he knows this is the city) are heavy with early blossoms that fair glow against the rolling clouds.  When he looks over the railing, down into the water, he is taller, his shoulders broader.  When he turns toward a friendly step, his voice sits more deeply in his chest. 

Dreaming, he feels small and welcome inside this body.  The face of the young man coming up the walk keeps slipping out of true: as if it is a secret, or the sort of face you read about in a book and have only imagined.  This young man laughs and claps him across the shoulder. 

Was looking for you, he says, not so much older than the grown boys.  Was lookin' all over for you. 

He smells salt and creosote, tidal flats and coal-smoke.  The southerly wind calls up thoughts of shirtsleeves, and running for the sake of running.  City air fills his lungs, and his leg is true.

Davey wakes to distant sounds of shouting, but it is not what wakes him.

"This ent your bed, is it?"

He sits up.  His hand hurts from gripping the little brass horse, and he feels all creased from sleeping in his clothes.  Lufty Parker's face is as grim as ever, shadowed even when he's clean-shaven, the scar below his eye and across his temple pale as milk and smart as paint, as if it were painted on.  Pulled from the raw salt-river air and the friendly hand, his sear runs aground on Lufty's like a little coracle on the back of a whale.  Davey can never quite bring himself to look Lufty in the eye, so broad and so deep his presence.  He fears it like you do a night-time doorway.

"Sorry, sir," he says.  His voice is just a boy's again.  It cracks roughly against the roof of his mouth, as if he has been crying all night. 

"The lads is looking for you.  Won't come to breakfast, still."

"Sorry, sir."

"What's that you've got?"

"Nothing."

"A lot of nothing, to fit in your hand so." 

Davey thinks he might hear a little bit of - not a laugh or a smile, but a dappling of some gentleness in that old-city brogue.  He unclenches his fist, and holds the prancing horse out.  "I didn't nick it."

Lufty pushes his hand back toward him, and sits at the foot of Capper's bed.  "Ya know," he says, "that's all Birch brought up here wi' him.  Aside uniforms, but, the only thing of his own." 

Davey tries, subtly, to hunch toward the head of the bed.  Lufty is a tall man, sturdy-built, with wide shoulders and a barrel chest and large, rough hands.  He shouts so loud it rolls across the big yard like wine-casks down the gangplank of a ship, and everyone goes still as rabbits and bend to listen.  Lufty, even in his shirt-sleeves, takes up most of the space in any room, and the bed sags toward him. 

"Swear, he didn't come outta this quarters til a month gone by.  Miserable bastard.  So mad he coulda taken the flight off a falcon."  Lufty sighs.  "Long time he just wore a path 'tween here and his office.  Long time."

" 'Cause of his leg?"

"That last box - Jack Hazel told me," Lufty says, thoughtfully, as if he hasn't heard Davey at all.  "Lotta smoke, was.  Looking for hot-spots on the third floor, whole damn thing came down.  Birchy was at Bellevue two, three months 'tween the breaks and the burns."

Davey thinks about the dream where the house falls.  He closes his eyes, and tries to picture the face of the young man by the river.  The horse is heavy in his hand, heavier than it ought to be.  "I set a fire," he says, because it is easier to talk to the wall with Lufty beside him, somehow.  "At the children's home.  I didn't mean to - I was only - " He grits his teeth, because he doesn't want to cry in front of Lufty the way he cries by the fish pond, or in front of Capper.  "I wanted to - " He struggles to articulate: the yearning for sky and smoke, the urge to run, the mad and raving thing inside him that struck out. 

"I know." Lufty says, and Davey is blindsided by the deep and terrible realization that Lufty does know.  "I know, ya wanted it to stop.  Ya didn't want to be alone no more, m'right?"

He wanted the warmth.  He wanted to go back: to the place where mother and father would wrap him in their arms, where Lyddie's bow was askew and her front teeth had a gap where both had fallen out. 

"Birchy - when he couldn't ride the boards, he thought it all were gone.  Everything he was and wanted."

Davey had shouted for them: down that long dark hall. 

"I lost two my brothers on the boards when I was twenty, lost them in the East River to a pier fire.  The lot of us went in the water but it was just me come up.  Thought I killed them, last I took them hands and jumped.  It was us or it was the pier would give way, and we didn't know what they'd laded out there.  Thought I snuffed 'em right out, and my sear cried out for so long I thought it would not stop.  Silks - Silks I think believed he killed Birch right the same."

"Capper's not dead."

"I told you once Birch is a fool backwards and forwards.  That miserable bastard left the city and let Silks write him and never wrote back, not til you come here.  Too damn mad and miserable to see what Silks believed he'd done."

Davey knows the young man at the rail, now.  Sees him through the eyes of the dreamer.  Only color those cheeks ever got was a sunburn or a laugh, and never a single strand of auburn hair out of place even at three o' clock in the morning.  Was looking for you, he says.  His chest aches.  For all the anger: like something infected, lanced and left to drain. 

"Kid, Birchy will come back home, to you too, I know, because the damn fool finally learnt his lesson by leaving."

"He wants to say he's sorry."

"Well he damn well better."

"I should've said goodbye."

"Could write him."  Lufty - almost then - laughs, his eyes as silver as the hair at his temples.  "But come for mess now.  Lads have looked for ya' long enough."

[bwwhitney]

Sunset, Wynantskill, 6 April 2020

[goalhofer]

St. Jude The Apostle Church in Wynantskill, New York.

[thisleakyoldhouse]

There was a previous house on the property, but this Second Empire Victorian was built by businessman Alonzo Ainsworth in about 1874 or so. Three stories, about 3400 square feet. A little over two acres of land, man-made spring-fed pond, and the Wynantskill River on the western border. 

The Allen family owned the house from 1946 until 1996. When the Allen’s parents moved in, the house was set up so that there were three apartments, one on each floor. We believe the person who owned the house two owners before us turned it back into a single-family. We know that owner dug the pond.

The owners before us were NY City people who used the house on weekends and vacations.

I’ve only shared this blog with friends who have asked about the house. Please do not reblog any of these posts.

[wmhtpubmedia]

We hope you are having as much fun today as these kids were with our camera crew at the Robert C. Parker School! #Education #kidsprogramming #camera #videographer #kids #smile #pbskids #wynantskill #WMHT (at Robert C. Parker School)

[minion-squad]

Yard Debris Removal in Rensselaer NY by the Minion Squad

[christmaslightinstallation-blog]

Oh boy the boom is back out on the playground! Hanging some soffit lighting at our good friends Benetech! #wynantskill #guyswhodecorate #boom #air #getlifted #shine #😍 #yesplease #colors (at Wynantskill, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CTVtcCADAVT/?utm_medium=tumblr