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9:05 p.m. - 2002-10-20
Kentuck
The question begs to be asked: what am I doing updating Diaryland when I'm on the verge of collapse? I had another wrestling match with the irises today, and then I pruned the eight foot high quince bush. Yup, the abominable quince creature is now a three foot high shadow of its former self.

I found myself sitting on the ground at one point, just staring at the quince branches, totally focused on what the quince would want. It was a very zen experience.

And then I planted my pot bound rosemary plant, and my miniature rose, "Nova Hit". Who dreams up these rose names? And then some tulips, and a Crown Imperial. I love Crown Imperials. I wish they weren't so damn expensive.

I meant to be in the garden for just a couple of hours. I wound up being there for seven. Little bat very achey.

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Yesterday we went to Kentuck, which is an arts festival in Northport, near Tuscaloosa. It's a well-known festival, and if you're an artist from Alabama you must go to Kentuck. It's just one of those scenes that one must make.

I didn't actually have a very good time.

It took us about two hours to get there. Bruce took a route through a couple of dozen little teeny towns so the drive was ... interesting. My favorite sight was a real trashy general store that had a big sign in front. The sign said: "Credit Makes Enemies! Let's You And Me Be Friends!"

Bruce's favorite was a road called "Rufus Tubbs Drive". Talk about questions that beg to be asked - who the hey was Rufus Tubbs?!

At one point we also saw some loaves of bread by the side of the road. I had this weird thought: why not deliver bread the same way that newspapers get delivered? I mean, it's wrapped in plastic! And from the look of these loaves it handles getting tossed out of a car at high speed pretty well!

I know, my brain was in a strange state to be having these thoughts, a fact that became sadly clear when we got to the festival. We had barely gotten into the gates when I had a seizure aura, the first I have had for months. It was so bad I thought I was going to have a grand mal instead of my piddley complex partials.

Bruce propelled me over to the festival ambulance, and I told the nice attendants, in my best "no big deal" voice, that I needed someplace quiet so I could fall on the ground and froth. They were perfectly happy to put me in the blessed dark, quiet ambulance and let me sit there, Bruce holding my hand. We sat for about ten minutes, me feeling like a TV without an antenna.

Finally it became apparent that the aura wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't going to have a seizure, but I didn't really feel normal either. It bugs me that I don't know what triggered this. I'm eating! I'm sleeping! I'm not listening to loud industrial/techno music! I even, occasionally, get physical exercise! So where did this come from?

So much for driving this week.

Anyway, some nice things did happen. Bruce bought me a lovely gold ring for my birthday. It's a plain gold band, which comes to a point, with some small circles impressed into it. The artist who made it was interested in Bruce's fish T-shirt and they got so involved in discussing science he almost forgot to have us pay.

And I bought a ceramic heart from an artist named Jeanie, who makes beautiful chili pepper red hearts. They have a very interesting voodoo-Mexican-I-put-a-spell-on-you sort of vibe, and I've been lusting after them for months. I'm putting up a wall of heart shaped objects in our front hall so one of Jeanie's hearts seemed justified.

And we watched the demented metal magicians from the Sloss furnaces do their thing. They were doing pours right in the middle of the festival, with big clouds of steam, red hot flowing metal and associated nasty smells! For five dollars you could carve out your own little sandmold and they would cast it while you waited.


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