I Don't Know

What to call this post.

I'm in the middle of a major "meh" fest with myself. Feeling dissatisfied, sort of, and stuck, sort of, and yet comfortable, and on top of that, not having a clue what to do different.

Maybe it's part of grieving.

Maybe it's just part of me. The struggle to "find" myself.
(My mother in her demented wisdom would have said, "You're right here.")

"Nobody can be exactly like me. Sometimes even I have trouble doing it." -- Tallulah Bankhead




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Anyway.
I "found" myself in Carrboro on Friday to get my car serviced at the always terrific Auto Logic.
Carrboro was the first town I lived in when I moved to NC and it has that special first-town place in my heart.

I sat outside Weaver Street Market enjoying a coffee and Dwell magazine while Auto Logic did their magic:

This was inside:

The morning was hazy, a bit cool.
Walking over, I saw things I hadn't seen before. Like this fountain:

And these flowers:

And this lovely scene across Weaver Street as I thought about thin women with bearded men who smiled at me inside when I got coffee and seemed chagrined when they saw me outside and the thin woman was next to them:

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"Hells Bells" by Cary Ann Hearst:

Mother's Day

This is a "Hallmark Holiday". Another made up holiday for what should be everyday, or at the very least, every month. Because, frankly, we're worth it. (Unless you have a "Komodo Dragon" for a mom, as a friend of a friend called hers. Yikes!)

Still, I changed my cover photo on Facebook to this:

I was going to use this one:

but my mother looks too sad. (And a bit like Keely Smith.)

And Not The Sock Monkey's Either

Cousins, that is. My very own real human type cousins.

It all started with this picture:

And through a days-long complicated trail that I won't bore you with because it's only interesting if it's YOUR family (and sometimes not even then), I found a new [to me] second cousin, once removed. His grandmother and my great-grandmother were sisters, yet he's younger than me. So weird.
We're related in another more complicated way via my great-grand aunt who married my first cousin twice removed. Family, oh what a tangled web...

Anyway, we are new BFF's.

He was going to call me Friday a week ago, but was in a bad motorcycle accident that night and is still in hospital. Demonstrated his superb southern manners by emailing - while on a morphine drip - to apologize for missing the call!

Notes on Today

Walking along Hunt Street in Durham this morning:
semi cool breeze carrying the sounds of people laughing, the jingle of dog's tags, the smell of coffee and earth and strawberries and sunscreen (SPF 45).

Later in Southern Village walking the upper loop alone (the price one pays for being late):
the PERFUME of honeysuckle lit up by the heat, a spray of blood on the sidewalk from a skinned knee or nose, the imprints of shoes in the concrete. The sounds of soccer and hockey and children on swings mingled with this song:

Even later, this charming postcard sized painting was discovered:

Art Everywhere

Hi, it's me. The slacker blogger.

Last week we went on the Durham Art Walk. First we had a snack at Daisy Cakes to fortify us. A chocolate truffle brownie for me.

Cricket Forge was giving these away:

Made of tin. 

Lots of great downtown stuff. A good downtown is the soul of a place.

Both my purchases were leaves - this beautiful photograph of sculptural dead leaves:

And this small metal leaf from Cricket Forge:

Afterward several of us went to Parker and Otis.

No pickle relish in the deviled eggs. Fail.

Lovely day. Lovely company. Lovely art.