Hello, readers. The past week and a half has seen me leave Oxford and hit the road. First stop, Nashville. Home base, more or less. Filled Mom's garage with books and things. Also filled my sister's trunk, and one of her living rooms. I really did give away/sell/trash a lot of stuff. Apparently I had a lot a lot of stuff.
Saturday night I drove to Knoxville. Stayed with an old friend for a few days. He and his wife had a baby, whom they named Lenna for reasons which it's not entirely clear whether or not I'm at liberty to reveal. Much wonderful food was had (chutneys, chappati, and the like). On the last night--which was, in fact, last night (Tuesday night)--I made some falafels and tzatziki. Some of my friends' new friends stopped by. They stayed for food. We stuffed pitas and talked for several hours until most everyone went to bed, except for me and the old friend. We discussed the future for both of us: him graduating; me, possibly, vacating the country. Eventually, he slept, and I inscribed two books as presents for little Lenna. The books being, A Little Princess and The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. She is, at three months, much too young to read these books, but she's not too old to be read to, and, in any case, perhaps their being near her will add some air of imaginative wonder and helpful sorrow. Books are magic, you know.
Today finds me in Asheville, currently at a place called World Coffee. I entered in the hopes of finding Vietnamese coffee. I stayed for the lovely service and also the outlets allowing this post to be posted.
Sunrise in the smokies is a beautiful thing. Sun beams slicing the tops of mountains, clouds bruised with the early light. This is how I entered Asheville. I highly recommend it. Just watch out for those curves which take you directly into the sun. In those moments, driving becomes mostly an act of faith. If you can't see the road, is it still there?
Tonight, my cousin (whom I'm visiting here), takes me to a play called, A Beautiful View. It's being put on by the company she works for. I'm excited to see the play, but more excited to see the fruits of my cousin's labor. It's a wonderful thing to absorb a bit of her life here: to see how she works and lives. Her apartment, for example, contains stress balls, peacock feathers, and a cat named Guinevere. Seeing people twice a year at Thanksgiving and Christmas is nice, but you rarely hear about peacock feathers.
Hope you're having a pleasant Wednesday readers.