Sunday, September 14, 2003

Harvest Moon over Kentucky

Harvest Moon over Kentucky

I spent most of last week in Kentucky on business. It was nice enough, I suppose, for the area. I found a lot of things depressing - the teaching rooms in Kentucky state colleges are often just as bad as some in Tennessee. Orange threadbare carpets, fluorescent lighting, antique white vinyl paint over cinderblock. Air inside such buildings is thick with moisture, less than the usual amount of humidity found outside in the south in September, but still far to high to be really comfortable for some.

On the up side, I ate smoked duck with plum sauce at a really excellent little restaurant for less than $15. So there are benefits to being a visitor to a rural economy. Pulled pork barbeque, inexpensive beer, and less of a parking problem than elsewhere. Have I mentioned my love affair with food lately?

Johnny Cash died the last day I was there, and as I drove back through Tennessee to get home, NPR played hours of interviews with the man in black, interspersed with his music. It was a nice memorial to one of the few people in the music business I always thought deserved respect. My stomach flipped over as I drove though Nashville. How badly can a business screw up an art? Look at Nashville, and there's your answer.

I'm working too much lately, but I am making time to fix up my house finally. I just started to feel like it was coming together this weekend. I don't have any more unopened boxed in the floor of my room, finally. I have a nice long curtain over my window that matches my bedspread. I'm bringing it all together. This is home. Atlanta is my home. The rhythm of things is finally settling, finally getting down to a steady pattern that I can depend on, feel safe in, and routines are getting solidified.

I love routine. I love my home. I don't think anything big will change for a while, and that's perfectly all right with me.

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