rajafacesbothways

Beer Garden--Up the Stairs and Behind the Kitchen

Every Thursday evening free entertainment emits from the court house square and wafts over the rooftops to my porch, a perfect place to sip beer, enjoy the music and the sky show overhead. (billowing clouds, daredevil chimney swifts, a renegade hummingbird, Peregrine falcon and the nighthawk)
Okay. So it's not Beale Street or Rush Street, but the price is right and you can't beat the atmosphere.

Time of Man--A Review

I approached Time of Man (1926) by Kentucky writer and poet, Elizabeth Madox Roberts, with a "not another book about poor Kentucky mountain people" attitude. Was I ever wrong! This is not just another book--it is a classic. The distinctly rhythmic prose set in the early 20th century lures and holds the reader throughout the whole novel.

The protagonist is Ellen Chesser, the  young daughter of a  Kentucky tenant farmer whose story is told through her years of growing up and becoming a wife of a tenant farmer and mother of five. Sounds boring? Believe me it is not; this is a well-crafted moving tale of the progression of a human life, relating what it is like to be alive at any time. The story moves with the rhythms of time and of the natural world. And feisty Ellen shows how there can be dignity  and richness in life, even in poverty.

Elizabeth Madox Roberts was from KY, taught school, graduated from the University of Chicago at the age of 40 and published this first novel at 45. Kentucky abounds with talented fine writers, but none surpass her. This book is so unique, I find it impossible to review.

Try it. I think you'll like it.

The Worst Stuff

The confused bat on my porch was not nearly as batty as the National Socialist Group that stuck fliers in windshields for a local meeting in Georgetown. Attention All White Patriots ---"all white patriots who are so disgusted with the way our government is running OUR COUNTRY! All white patriots are encouraged to attend...." It goes on to blast the government for turning the other cheek when black/mexicans commit crimes and turn once beautiful German, Irish, Italian and English cities into drug traffic war zones. (hmm. have they never heard of the Nazi party or the Mafia?)

It goes on and on with hate statements. It included a web address to learn where the meeting was to be held. And incidentally, their emblem includes a swastika. Scary stuff.

I was tempted to go in black face makeup and see what would happen. After all, I am white. Would I have been barred for that?  Or shot? Actually, the danger would be me "shooting off my mouth"--a sure bet if I had been there.

Saturday Night Live

What appeared to be a dead leaf against the wall on my porch became a live bat. Whoa! It shoulda' been sleeping in a dark space above.
As dusk approached, it left the wall, scratched and stretched like an old man and crept around the porch, extending a wing occasionally. I moved behind the closed kitchen door before it slipped through a crack and began to climb all over the inner side of the screen door. Holy spit!

Turning on all the kitchen lights, I grabbed a broom and watched as it continued clomping all over the screen, looking for an exit sign for OUT. Finally it was gone. We both shared the same goal--get the hell out of there!

And no. This was no lost little  bitty bat. This was a big  ole' Halloween bat. Big enough for me to think about buying a gun.

Named That Car

I had decided to name my Toyota "Traipsin' Toy". It should feel more user friendly with a name. 

However, " Mary From California" suggested "Uma Karuma", Japanese for horse car. I love it! Just the kind of idea I had been searching for; a play of words off of Norse Horse. Thank you Mary, whoever you are!

Is it just me? Or is naming a car what women do who live alone with no pets?

Norse Horse Has Hit the Trail

Sold the Norse Horse today to a muscular man with a pot belly, a curly pony tail, Debby Sue? tattooed on his beefy upper arm (the question mark followed Debby Sue's name) and a roll of cash.  And to complete the transfer of title, his name was  William Robert ---------.
A true  Kentucky Billy Bob is now the undisputed owner of the Norse Horse.
He says he is a  mechanic along with other jobs and will take good care of the car. That car owed me nothing, so I was happy to sell it for a decent sum.
I'm SURE it will go another 50,000 miles, especially fro someone who can repair it at cost. Now I got to concentrate on putting another 230,000 miles on the Corolla--still unnamed--to make it worth the change.

A Mini Celebration

My friend got an excellent report on the progress of her treatment at the Markey Cancer Center so we celebrated with sushi and a movie--Paris 1936 (2008), french director Christopher Barratier. The film is the story of a Chaubourg music hall and the people involved with it. It's a mixture of medleys, politics, failure and success, family and entertainment with background scenes of Paris and traditional France.

Not a musical, but the kind of music that made me  briefly wonder why I moved to Georgetown instead of Paris.

Name That Show

We've decided on a title for the Sept. 13-Oct. 26 exhibition at the Arts and Cultural Center here---
UNEQUIVOCAL KENTUCKY. Unequivocal defines black and white in one word; it will be a combination of 50-55 works, Joseph Kinsey's graphite drawings and my infrared photos.

The center was once the county jail, converted to a very appealing  three room gallery space. This will be my fifth exhibition since moving here and probably my last. Nothing new to hang and no where to hang it!

Yes, We Have No Bananas

No bananas of course, but we have picked peppers, zucchini, beans and three tomatoes from our garden.
Not exactly living off the land but it helps. And of course there is the Farmer's Market at the corner.
There aren't enough meals in the day now to enjoy all the delicious fresh produce.

Flashes and Beeps

In comparison to the Norse Horse, my Corolla's toots and whistles are cup holders, AC, CD player and radio. That's good. I no longer need to hold my coffee between my knees when I drive and hum my favorite tunes with the windows down.
However, it also has an intimidating lock system and constantly urges me to do what I  would automatically do in my car--close doors, fasten seat belt, etc. as though I can't think for myself. I'm still unsure what lever releases which door, gas tank, and trunk.  And the car key is a $200 coded system that encourages me to never allow it leave my fist. Cars  definitely have become complex over the past 21 years.

I do really like this car. However, the Volvo let me make the decisions--now I feel the Corolla is in control.