Cata-Lite, Pawmodoro's, Cement-Tom, Kitty Van Winkle, Dog Cat-cher, Tom Cat Cole, Hudson Hornet, Old Kaatskillian, Halve Moon Nauticat, Purr-lessque Dancer and dozens of other fiberglass felines are now up in downtown Catskill. Here, as created by Cheryl Lickona, Chad Weckler and Rob Roy McGregor, is Cat-tue of Liberty.
DIG IT. Catskill's Garden Clubbers wish to identify, photograph and reward extraordinary new or improved gardens. Prizes of $50, $100 and $150 will be conferred. To play the game, take a Before picture soon of a target site, then get to work and in August take an After picture. Deadline for submissions is September 1. (518)943-1971.
DOUGHS UP. At River Street Bakery, freshly opened recently at Brandow's Alley in Catskill, choosing is a chore. Rustic Tuscan or Rosemary Round bread? French (white flour) or French country (whole wheat flour)? Honey Whole or Kalamata or Sourdough? Vanilla currant or Jalapeno scones?
IRISH UP. Music, dance, food and (presumably) blarney are slated for this weekend's Irish Festival at--where else?--the Quill Irish Cultural & Sports Centre. www.east-durham.org
THAT MUSICAL. "River of Dreams" opened last Friday night in the Catskill High School auditorium and won huge applause along with plentiful sentimental weeping. For good reasons. Fifty GreeneLand school kids celebrated the Hudson River, in keeping with a book written and illlustrated by a local notable, by means of songs composed by a local artist, under the supervision of a GreeneLand-based Hollywood/Broadway veteran. The project is the subject of an incipient documentary. Performances willtake place Friday and Saturday nights (from 7pm) and Sunday (from 4pm). Admission is free. Be early.
PORT OPEN. Restaurateur Frank Guido, tired of leasing his 1 Catskill Point property to luckless and/or hapless operators, is directly in charge of the newly named Port of Call there. A "pre-grand opening" party on May 13th brought in a huge crowd, and business has been brisk ever since, at least for dinner.
DRUG BUST. So this GreeneLand woman goes in ex-husband's house, in keeping with share-the-children agreement. Spots a sack of cocaine, which reminds her of why she divorced Ex. Pours it down toilet. Flushes. Tells him what she has done. But it wasn't his property. Owner comes to retrieve $40,000 (market value) stash. "Sorry, " says Ex, who then gets busted--in nose, mouth, eye, knee, crotch….
About "drgu bust". Sounds like typical wronged Greeneland woman behavior (honestly, it's not limited to one place)
Cats up? From May? Dick you're getting old. Shouldn't there be an updated article regarding the plaster pussies that Vinnie insists on selling each year? President pimp?
How about a poem for your site? It's GreeneLand at its best or at least a well-deserved poke at its finest:
(sung to the tune of the Beverly Hillbillies)
Come hear a story we hope you won’t dread,
About a woodchuck boy just trying to get ahead.
Then one day, through political posturing that was crude,
He rose to fame on the back of his boss - how rude.
DWI that is, moonshine, Long Island iced tea.
Next thing you know he’s dancing on personal rights like Fred Astaire,
Making citizens afraid to tell him to “move away from here.”
Saying “Holcott is just your cup of tea.”
So they moved him on up the mountain to the land of trees.
Pines, it is, filled with bear under the stars.
That’s the story of country living gone wrong;
Carefully written in a song.
To keep you from harm in this community,
Full of bucolic charm and needless tragedy.
Country living, you see; have a beer, throw out your razor.
Hurry along now, y’all.
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