Lone star

I've been thinking about Stuart, and when I think of him, I always think of him laughing. Because he was from Georgia I've also been thinking about the South. I've never been there. I do know that Texas is not exactly the same as the South ... the South includes a lot of things, whereas Texas is TEXAS. But in my obligatory morning stroll through cyberspace I happened upon this terrible taxidermied "sculpture" of an actual stuffed armadillo, ostensibly drinking a bottle of beer, and it seemed like something that could be created only in the South ... and I think Stuart would have laughed if he saw it. The thought made me smile. So bottom's up and here's to you, Stu.

In other news, why can the women at the seventeen buck haircut place not understand that not everyone wants to have their hair shorter in the front than in the back? I barely escaped without bangs! Actually it's not that bad ... and she did let me look at it before I left, and I approved the cut and paid for it. But this morning after a shower it was plain to see that my hair is now a full three inches shorter in the front. All I wanted was a half inch trimmed off the bottom, all the way around. Grr. I guess that's why the haircuts are only seventeen bucks. I will not be going there again.

More rain last night—enough to wake me up, but not enough to get the creeks flowing. It's definitely fall though. Leaves changing, chilly mornings; I wore a sweater today for the first time this year. This weekend my favorite installation opens at our little museum here in town—the Day of the Dead exhibit. I want to do a little altar at home this year as well, with photos and flowers and candles, fruits and skulls and candy, cutout paper garlands .... There's been so much death close to me lately. Close, and not so close. Recently and a long time ago. It feels like good practice to honor these people with some beautiful decorations and spend a little time remembering them. I would like to think someone will do the same for me someday.

Dang, another post about death! Well, it's just that time of year, I guess. And actually, I love this time of year. It's a little different around here than other places I've lived, because here there's the usual autumn shutting down of growth, days getting darker, flowers fading, and so on—but then the rain returns, and a whole new world comes alive again. Brittle dusty leaves and parched brown hillsides give way to sweet green grass and mushrooms and camellias, new birds stopping by on their way to wherever else they're going, beautiful cool fresh air that smells like trees and clouds. It's such a relief after the relentless heat and glare of the last six months of summer.

This morning when I woke up there was a moment right before I opened my eyes when I thought I was in my old room again at my last house. Something about the smell of the air coming in through the window, maybe. I laid there for several minutes with my eyes closed, remembering everything I could about that place. I miss it.