Called Home

Sorry for my long silence. I was called home early. Family emergency. Everything is okay now. Trying to adjust to being back in my dreaded Ohio. Thankfully we've been having absolutely gorgeous fall days. The kind that make me wish I could A.) Bake a pumpkin pie and B.) Liked pumpkin pie. Maybe Ohio is trying to make up with me? We'll see how I feel when the first snow falls. 

Traumatic Iritiis

I shouldn't be accident prone. Ten years of ballet, I do Yoga...You'd think I'd be the picture of grace and poise. Not so much. I injure myself on a fairly regular basis and always in the most ridiculous way. I sprained my ankle falling off a tricycle...I was thirty-five. Fractured my wrist walking by the meat cooler as a cook was violently kicking it open. (I have to add that even though he kicked the door into my wrist I didn't drop the case of beer I was carrying). I slipped on ice and hurt my knee. Exactly one week later I fell down a flight of icy stairs and hurt my shoulder...I should really stay off ice...I had four surgeries from those two falls...ice sucks. Anyway. You get the point. I'm accident prone. 


My most recent injury involved a therapy band, a doorknob and my eyes. When I tied the thick band around the door knob I thought it didn't look too secure but surely I'd notice if it started to slip? Nope. It hit so hard and fast I was on the floor writhing in pain before I knew what had happened. I was terrified to look. I expected to find copious amounts of blood and bits of exploded eyeball oozing down my cheeks. I didn't see any of that. Mostly because I couldn't see. Piper got ice packs for me. Alex lamented that it didn't get caught on video. I could have been on Tosh.O...gee, sorry I missed that! The eye doctor told me I was extremely lucky. A blow like that could have cost me my vision. Traumatic Iritis. That's just a fancy way of saying the colored parts of my eyes were swollen. Made the pupils look weird and hurt like hell every time they adjusted to light. He sent me home with steroid drops and orders to rest.


Rest... 


Rest is something I've never been very good at. Sitting around is not in my skill set, that's why I have a physical job. But you don't fool around with your eyes. So  I had an unexpected day off and I couldn't take the kids exploring. I couldn't do anything. I figured I may as well read one of the twenty books I'd lugged to NC. I picked up the one I was reading at the bed and breakfast. It's a very good book. I don't know why I hadn't already finished it. Every time I'd reach for it something stopped me. But now. Now I had a whole day to fill so I read the whole thing. Good thing weeping didn't hurt my eyes. This book is about a spiritual journey and I swear I could have written it. I'd been raised southern baptist. Loud, frightening preachers who banged pulpits and damned our collective souls to the eternal fires of hell. Very dramatic. I remember looking around church searching for a face that mirrored mine. Someone I could meet eyes with, roll them and shrug like, "Pfft...do you believe this guy?" It was a vain search. What I saw were enraptured faces. These people were not only buying into what was being said, they really felt something. And I felt nothing. It made me feel defective. The older I got the more skeptical I became. I went to pastors, friends, family with questions. When you tell people you don't believe in God, they look at you like you've said you enjoy murdering puppies. After years of feeling like a hypocritical phony I stopped going to church. I stopped pursuing anything spiritual and even developed a disdain for it. But I missed believing in something. Here, in the pages of this book, I'd found the God I believe in. I'd gone on this North Carolina journey to find my way out of the darkness and thanks to getting the hell knocked out of me I'd found light. A light that had been closed off to me for years. A light I'd closed off. 


It was a real eye opener, pun intended. 

Charlie's Kabob Grill - Wake Forest, NC

We found Charlie's after a particularly stressful day. I met the kids and the ex at a lake after work. Work for me involves physical labor. I scoop adults up out of beds, stand them on their feet and help them walk. I don't mean I'm holding their hands and cheering them on. I am supporting a good deal of their weight and am sometimes moving one leg for them. I'm tired at the end of the day. Just plain tired. But I met the kids at the lake for swimming with the intent we'd all go out to dinner after. Except the ex forgot to bring dry clothes...

An hour in a car with wet hungry kids? I don't think so. 

We went to Walmart, bought dry clothes and then tried to find a restaurant everyone could agree on. Boy and Ms. Finicky agree on something? What was I thinking? The arguing and the whining started. The ex found Charlie's on Yelp. More whining but I didn't care. My sister tells me all the time you can't negotiate with terrorists and she's right. "We're going to Charlie's, you two don't have to eat! Now shut up and get in the car!"

The kids pile into my car, we're following the ex since he has a GPS. It took us to the back of a strip mall. Are we supposed to knock on one of the doors and give a password to get the kabobs? We continue to follow him around the block...twice. Alex and I are laughing and wondering if maybe we should indeed try a password in the alley. The ex turns right for the third time, I turn left. I found it.
  

At this point, I wasn't expecting much. It's a strip mall, how good can it be? The gentleman behind the counter, who turns out to be Charlie, greeted us right away. Charlie is a delightfully pleasant man. He joked with my kids as he took our order. There's a picture of his new baby on the cash register. We talk about his kids, his wife...very friendly, very personable. As we're eating I notice Charlie greeting everyone else that comes in. He knows details about all of them, asks about their wives, business...This is the kind of place where I like spending my money. A genuinely nice man who loves his job and makes a hell of a falafel. My kids ask what baklava is so I go to the counter and ask for two pieces. Charlie insists I take four and won't hear of me paying for them. I stood and argued with him for a moment but he won. I took the baklava. If you're ever in Wake Forest, give it a try and an fyi, go to the front of the strip mall cause you can't get into Charlie's from the back.

The Ex

It was extremely nice of the ex to bring the kids to me and it was very nice that he was willing to come check the area out to see if he'd like to move here. All I will say is that ex's should NEVER. EVER, EVER live under the same roof. Even if it's only a week. Just not a good idea. That's all.

Fields

"I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it." Shug Avery. 


This is hands down my favorite line in Alice Walkers book, The Color Purple. I'm sure it does piss God off when we don't notice things. "Hello, I've made an entire field of flowers! Put your smart phones down now or I will smite your asses!" To avoid the smiting, I make sure I not only notice fields of purple I admire them. Let's face it, I've made God mad enough...I need all the help I can get! And admiring flowers is easy, especially purple ones. But one day when I was on my way home from the hospital I passed a field of a different color. This field was so beautiful I'm sure not noticing it would've been grounds for immediate smiting. And it wasn't even purple! I was coming around a curve on a country road. The sun was low in the sky but still shining brightly. To my left was a field of what I've decided must be soybeans. 

Every leaf was illuminated by the angle of the sun. It was the most brilliantly vibrant field of green I've ever seen. It made me so happy. When I passed it the next morning the angle of the sun was just about the same. Same glow, same vibrance. I looked forward to passing this field every morning and evening. I wondered what was it that made me enjoy this field of green so much? It's never been one of my favorite colors. Why did I smile every time I drove by? (It's a 45 minute commute...what did I have to do other than ponder fields?)


This is my conclusion. When I looked at this field of plants I did not have dreams of tofu scrambles. I saw how very alive, how vital it was. Green, the color of spring, of life and renewal. I saw plants, new life. I saw the rebirth of myself. A 42 year-old woman who has shrugged off winter and is ready for spring...

The Beyu Caffe

http://www.beyucaffe.com/

The thought of my last post, regarding death, and now this one about food brings a bemused smile to my face. Maybe it seems an odd jump but I witnessed a woman's love for her family. It was beautiful and I appreciate beauty in all forms. In a painting, the pattern of raindrops on the window, in the above cup of coffee.

I was drawn to the Beyu Caffe because of the name. Be you. Poetic. I've eaten there three times. Once with Bran, once alone and once with Boy and Ms. Finicky...not a crime fighting duo. Brandy was immediately turned off by the ladies room. Someone had shaved in the sink. I was so enthralled with the smells and sights I didn't care. For heaven's sake...they didn't shave in the kitchen! 

This is the place I'd been looking for. Decadent vegetarian food (yes decadent and vegetarian go together), chocolate and coffee. Woo hoo! I was so happy I didn't mind the inept waitress. Poor thing, I swear there was a thought bubble above her head with things like, "Wonder why those ladies are looking at me? I wish I had a sparkly ball. Hmm...did I remember to shave both legs or did I do the left leg twice again?" Goat cheese quesadillas with avocado cream are worth this to me. I'm that easy.

The second time I was alone. It was the day Brandy left and I wanted a pick me up. I got there around brunch and sat at the bar intent on drowning my sorrows with coffee. The bartender told me the special...something with eggs, mushrooms, cheese and peppers. It was so fabulous I forgot I hate mushrooms. The woman sitting beside me struck up a conversation about one of my biggest loves in life, dancing. She was on break from an all day dancing seminar. I got the scoop on where to do Salsa and Swing if I was ever inclined. What could have been a sad little meal turned into a delightful experience.

The third time I took Boy and Ms. Finicky. We'd just walked out of a place a block away because horrors...there was no kids menu! (I didn't feel like anything on their menu either.) Beyu has no kids menu but they have a gorgeous dessert case when you first walk in. They were sold because yes, my children will sell their principles for a piece of chocolate cake. Our lovely waitress skillfully led Ms. Finicky to the most appropriate choice for children, she loved it. Boy got wings...it's hard to mess those up. They both want to go back. Incidentally I saw the waitress I had the first time and I swear I heard her mumbling something about a sparkly ball.

A Glimpse of Dying

Crying used to make me uncomfortable. No matter who was doing the crying, me or someone else, I hated it. I spent years avoiding doing it, even viewed it as a weakness. Until I became a therapist.

Therapy is a safe place for my patients. All emotions are free to flow. Anger, fear, resentment, even tears. Their recovery, ability to stand, to walk has been placed into my hands. They have to trust me. If they want to be mad at their disease, fine, be mad. If they want to take it out on me, I can take it. I've been cussed at, thrown out of a room, had objects thrown at me. I always come back with a smile on my face. Let's try again. I've given funeral home recommendations and held hands while someone cried about their impending death. I feel honored when a patient talks to me about their death. They're sharing a huge moment with me. I don't take that lightly and I never try to change the subject.

As I approached the room of bed number one I could see she was asleep. Curled into a ball, buried under a mountain of blankets. The only visible part of her was her colorful knit hat peeking out of the blankets. I knocked. "Hey, you ready for therapy?" She woke and flashed me her ever present smile. She has one of the pluckiest, sweetest attitudes. "I guess I'll try." We walked down to the unusually empty therapy gym. "So are you prepared to go home tomorrow?" We'd been working for a week to rebuild strength lost by chemo. The plan was to go home the next day and return the following day to begin another round of chemo.She sighed. "I'm ready to go home yes. I'm not ready for another treatment. I'm so tired. I try to stay positive for my son and for my husband..." Then she very matter of factly tells me. "I'm going to cry now." And with that she did. She cried out of anger for having cancer, fear of leaving her family, resentment and fatigue, she wanted to stop fighting. This brave, tiny little woman didn't want her family to know how scared she was and how ready to be finished with the fight. I sat while she cried it all out. I didn't offer platitudes. I offered the only thing in my power at that moment. My ear and a box of tissues. 

It was enough. 

Dame's Chicken and Waffles - Durham

http://www.dameschickenwaffles.com/

Possibly you're thinking the same thing I did when I first heard Chicken and Waffles. My thought was eeeeewwwww! But I let my son, Alex, pick the restaraunt. Up to this point he'd been forced to eat whatever I'd chosen. I like a menu with "healthy" food which means gross to a teenager. Fried chicken and waffles...what more could a boy want? The finicky nine year-old was happy once she heard the word waffle. Off to Dame's we went.

It's a relatively small menu. I ordered what you see above, the Frizzled Fowl. Panko breaded chicken on top of a waffle with blueberry schmear, drizzled with plum sauce and served with syrup. OMG. So good. If I worked at this place I'd weigh five hundred pounds. I found the use of schmear for the different flavored butters delightful. I just like the word schmear. Yiddish words always make me want to sit on my porch and yell, "Get off my lawn!" I should learn more of them. Alex was equally pleased with his chicken and chocolate schmear. Piper was a little intimidated by all the schmear business. "Don't you have butter?" she wanted to know. I made an executive decision that she needed to try the maple pecan schmear. She loved it. We will definitely go back before our adventure is over.

THE KIDS ARE HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Finally, finally my kids are here! Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh, happy sigh.

Maria Parham Medical Center

My first day at the hospital was an interminably long one. Nine hours of orientation. I've never been so oriented in my life! At least that's what I thought until I got lost on my second day. I was trying to find the rehab floor from the ICU and ended up walking in on a surgery. I have no idea what type of surgery was happening because I ran like the wind.

 A few days later I got trapped in the stairwell. I had to go down one floor so I opted to take the stairs. Healthier and much quicker. But the door to get off the stairs was locked. And so was the next one...and the next one. I had to go to the first floor, find my way to the elevator without bursting in on a surgery and then back up three floors to get where I was trying to go. I mentioned the irony of the "Take the Stairs for Your Health" signs that are posted on every wall in the stairwell to a co-worker. "Take the stairs, because you have no choice sucker." "Oh, your id badge opens those doors." Sigh. Perhaps I should have paid more attention during orientation. Feeling stupid I tried the stairs again. I waved that id badge all around the door to no avail. I'm sure I looked like the Karate Kid doing "wax on and wax off". Back to the first floor and back to the co-worker who told me to use my id badge. "Oh, it doesn't work on THOSE stairs." AHHHH!!!

If getting lost weren't enough I'm dealing with a 26 year-old co worker who I may strangle with ace wrap. I'm 42. I've been a therapist for ten years. He's been a therapist for 2. He constantly double checks me. "Do you think you can handle that patient?", "If you can't handle it, come find me." Uh-huh. I'll aimlessly wander about the hospital looking for you. Maybe I'll get to see a cool surgery while I'm at it. I'm not about rocking the boat on a temp job. I can deal with the pup for two months. He's a nice kid and has potential to be a good therapist so I amuse myself by calling him Skippy or Junior any chance I get.  

The Mood Ring

I found a mood ring. I got a pretty big charge out of these when I was little so I slid it onto my finger. I expected it would turn black or brown or something indicating ugliness inside. Imagine my surprise when it turned a brilliant shade of blue. (For those not as well versed in mood ring, that means happy.)

Happy...Me...???!!!!!!!

I thought it was a malfunction but others have tried it on and gotten different results. On me, it always turns bright blue. What could this mean? The only logical answer is that I must be happy. I realize I've put a lot of thought and confidence into what is essentially a toy but come on...blue every time? That has to mean something! If only I had a magic 8 ball to ask!!

9th Street District - Durham

Reading the description of the 9th street district was like being called home. Espresso, Indian food, a funky dance studio, bookstore, toy store...the list goes on. The whole street has a hip, groovy feel to it. Our first stop was the Hunky Dory Eclectic Emporium. http://www.hunkydorydurham.com/default.aspx?qryid=6.  A name like that you have to go in, right? Hmm, head shop. Bongs and disc golf supplies. Always good to know where to go to buy a bong. Pretty awesome vinyl collection though. I was flipping through the albums while Brandy was looking at clothes. I came across a Linda Ronstadt that said "free" on the price tag. Anytime I'm out shopping and can't find a price on something I mutter, "Well, it must be free." to myself. Here I'd found something that said free on the price tag! I had to have it.

The guy behind the counter suggested I put the LP in the oven and make a bowl out of it. That could be an interesting chip bowl. I'm not so sure I want to do that to Linda. Next we checked out a bookstore called The Regulator, http://regulatorbookshop.com/. I was in hog heaven. So many books, so little time. I could have stayed til they closed. I saw Bran looking frustrated as she was trying to get around a group of ladies clumped together waiting for book club. Mommy had to show her how it's done. These ladies were well versed in southern hospitality because when I barreled through the middle of them, they all apologized. I heard a snippet of their conversation. "Oh I can't come to your book club, I haven't read the book." With the perfect southern accent this wonderful older black woman says. "That doesn't matter darlin', all we really do is gossip about people anyway." I walked out of that shop with a huge smile on my face.

Our last stop was Francesca's Dessert Caffe. http://www.francescasdessertcaffe.com/.  Interesting mix of clientele you wouldn't expect to see in the same place. Two older ladies sharing a dessert. College kids, business men, couples. We ordered coffees, I got cake, Brandy got pie. They gave me my coffee and I wanted to ask where it's mother was. Teeny tiny little mug. Sometimes good things come in small packages. Not today. Coffee has to be pretty bad for me not to drink it. This was bad. My big, amazing piece of cake was bad too. Brandy didn't do too much better with hers. Oh well, we didn't need the calories anyway. 

We abandoned the coffee, took our free album and headed for Roxboro.

Virginia Beach

The only thing that could top a night of sushi, beer, cupcakes and turkish coffee is a trip to the beach. Brandy's older sister lives in Norfolk, Va which is roughly three hours from Roxboro. Sidebar - to pronounce Norfolk the way the locals do you pretty much have to drop the "F" bomb yet they have signs posted saying you'll be fined if you swear. We had our first fight on the way to Virginia because I got lost...again. Bran's phone was saying get off on exit 13, 14, 15, my directions said get off on exit 13, 14, 15 but I kept on the highway towards Richmond. Maybe the multi-numbered exit confused me? I don't know. Her phone got us to her sisters house. I was mad about the direction business and told them to go on to the beach, I was going to Richmond! (Just because I'm 42 doesn't mean I'm always mature and rational.) I'd lived in Richmond when I was 5 and wanted to see it again anyway. Well...I got lost and couldn't find the highway to take me to Richmond plus I really did want to spend the day at the beach with my daughter. I called her and she gave me directions to where they were. 

They were at a fish joint called Big Sam's. http://www.bigsamsrawbar.com/  The food smelled great but I opted for cocktails. When we got to the beach we went to another restaurant for more cocktails and so I could change into my suit. It's probably good I don't remember the name of this one. The drinks were good, the veggie plate was good, the server was bad. He tried to apologize by saying he had to work his second job later that evening. I don't care...I didn't tell you to work two jobs dude. This place was right on the beach so after we left there we stepped out on the sand.

The beach was beautiful and there were no breast implants on the sand or in the water. The two girls set up their chairs and lounged. I went to play in the ocean. The ocean stole my sunglasses in a matter of seconds. I felt a little bad since they were Brandy's. I saw a man a few yards from me lose his too. Despite having my sunglasses stolen by the sea, I was having a great time. I couldn't remember the last time I'd really played in the ocean. (the jelly fish water doesn't count, I was too weirded out to enjoy that.) I ventured out a little deeper thinking I could avoid the breaking waves and play in the gentler ones. Ha. A wave came. A big one. There was no point in running. I stood there helplessly staring in horror as it grew bigger. It hit and try as I might I couldn't keep my feet, down I went. I couldn't tell which way was up. I was thinking maybe I'd end up wherever my sunglasses had gone when I collided with something. A person! There was a person under the waves with me! Maybe he'll know which way is up! I grabbed him around the waist and hung on for dear life. When he stood up he had a very grateful woman attached to him. We both laughed, I thanked him for saving me and went to build a sand castle.

For dinner we went to the Biergarden http://www.biergarden.com/  in nearby Portsmouth. I had a beer called the Golden Monkey, just because the name was funny. It was good and it wasn't pink. Very pleasant evening spent with Brandy, her sister Ashley and fiance Kevo. 

Riding home from the Biergarden we had to go through a tunnel. Up to this point we'd all been very animatedly chatting. A few feet into the tunnel all conversation stopped. I didn't see any signs saying it was a silent tunnel but it was. I found this highly amusing but was trying not to laugh when I heard Brandy start chuckling in the backseat. That's all it took, I was full blown laughing, Brandy was full blown laughing. Ashley and Kevo were looking at us like we were both nuts. Nothing like a good belly laugh while people are looking at you like you belong in a mental institution. 

Very glad I couldn't find the highway to Richmond.

Beer, Cupcakes, Sushi and Turkish Coffee - Raleigh

Brandy's first weekend here we decided to go see what Raleigh's about. A co-worker directed me to a bar. Seriously, I work with four men who are all in their twenties and they keep telling me about great bars to try. We decided to start at one of the bars. It gave us a jumping off point. Raleigh is divided into districts sort of like Durham but on a larger scale. It's the busiest city I've seen so far. I was in heaven.

Our night began at The Flying Saucer, http://www.beerknurd.com/. They've got about a million beers on tap. Our bartender was very helpful. I suspect she gets tired of women coming in and saying, "I don't know what I want...I don't really like beer." Then why are you in a beer joint?! She came up with a mixture of two beers for my daughter and for me that both ended up being pink but delicious. Maybe it was an editorial comment on women and beer...I don't know. Hints of raspberry. According to man law you're not supposed to put fruit in beer but it wasn't bad. 

After beer, we discovered Raleigh is crawling with rickshaw drivers. Translate, cute boys on bikes with wagons attached. They were everywhere. We managed to dodge them. "Would you ladies like a ride?" "Oh, no thanks, we're just heading across the street."  Across the street was where we'd spotted The Cupcake Shoppe, http://www.thecupcakeshopperaleigh.com/index.html. The rickshaw driver enthusiastically yelled "Cupcakes!"  What better way to get the fruity beer taste out of our mouths? The girl working the cupcake shoppe hadn't gotten the memo on southern hospitality but she gave me chocolate so it was okay. Yeah...I'm that easy.

Lots of cool things on Glenwood Avenue, an art gallery Brandy wouldn't go in. A gym called heat studios where you exercise with rubber bands strapped to the wall. What a fun way to break an arm! A pizza place called Bada Bing which made  us wonder where Bada Boom was.

Several dinner choices. We opted for Sushi. Cast iron stomachs are a blessing and a curse. I got something called a bunny roll, vegetarian. Brandy got something with raw fish. (The concept of Sushi passes me...you're supposed to cook meat...don't even get me started on carpaccio.) She liked mine better. You know why? No raw meat. I'm just sayin.

We ended the evening at a turkish coffee store. http://www.turkishdelightsusa.com/ At first I thought the women behind the counter were stalking us, thinking maybe we'd shoplift but then I realized they were just trying to take our order. Bran got an uncomplicated latte and baklava. I ordered turkish coffee, seemed fitting. Turkish coffee takes some time to brew so we wandered around. Gorgeous vases for sale, gelato, desserts including turkish delight. I'd wanted to try turkish delight for years thanks to The Chronicles of Narnia. My sister got me some for Christmas one year. It was NOT delightful. It's rose scented goo covered in a little powdered sugar...like that's going to make it taste better. When my coffee got ready it was brought to me in a lovely glass coffee mug. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wanted that to go." This was upsetting to the ladies that work there. Seems you can't change your mind about the coffee once its made. That's when I noticed the signs about not adding milk or sugar to the turkish coffee once it's brewed. The grounds are brewed into the coffee and you can't disturb the grounds. After much discussion and with my solemn vow that I'd let the grounds settle before any attempts at drinking the coffee, she put it in a to go mug and we were permitted to leave. I didn't touch it for a while because I swear that woman would have somehow known, found me and forced me to eat rose flavored goo. It was the strongest coffee I've ever had, certainly worth the wait. I give Raleigh a two thumbs up.

BRANDY!!!!!

Brandy, my oldest child, decided to come stay with me for a couple of weeks. WOO HOO!!!! Someone, other than myself to talk to! Don't get me wrong, I'm a delightful conversationalist but I always agree with me, I know what I'm going to say next...gets very dull. I miss having someone to talk to. This is evidenced by my inability to stop talking to myself. But more than anything I miss my kids. I don't miss my house, the street I live on, the town I live in. I don't miss these things at all. At all! My kids...man do I miss them. Like crazy do I miss them. And one of them will be here soon.

When I heard Brandy pull in I immediately welled up. I ran outside and hugged her, reassuring her my tears were happy tears and that I'd stop in a minute. I gave her a few minutes to settle in before I told her the awesomely fun thing I'd signed us up for. A free trial salsa class! Her face said it all. Really, I'm not  sure why I did it. The girl won't even chair dance. "Seriously, Mom? What were you thinking?" We didn't go to salsa. We ate salsa at a couple different places. It was more fun with someone else along. We don't always get along. Hello, we're Mother and Daughter. There was a fight where one of us said. "I'm going to Richmond!" Ah but it was so great having her here and I'm so sad that she's gone and I'm back to talking to myself again...

Sigh

Morgan Imports - Durham

http://www.morganimports.com/

I'm getting all my input about where to go from a 27 year-old man who loves beer, trucks and camping...not that there's anything wrong with that. Just not my cup of tea. I want to find art galleries, decadent vegetarian food and a yoga class. My 27 year-old buddy is no help with any of this. He did however point me to the Brightleaf district, which is where I found Morgan Imports.

Morgan Imports has about three floors and I need almost everything in that store. The picture above is a set of salt and pepper shakers I found there. Sumo salt and pepper shakers...how funny is that? It was either the wrestlers or a pair of ninja's. The way I cook, I chose the Sumo. I can't even begin to tell you all the amazing things they have, you'll just have to go there yourself. I found a bracelet for five dollars. I got an eighty-seven dollar necklace for ten. 

When the gentleman rang me up, he looked shocked by the price. "Um...that's a really good deal!" I was prepared to go toe to toe if I had to but it didn't come to that. "You don't know me but this necklace is so me."  "Oh I can tell." We chatted for a bit. He asked if I was an actor. Made my day. Possibly he thought I look like Roseanne but I chose to take it as a compliment. "I'm from Cincinnati, here for the summer, what do I need to see before I go home?" Out came a map and several suggestions. He even gave me the name of a Yoga studio. 

Brightleaf Square - Durham

http://www.historicbrightleaf.com/index.html

The person I work most closely with here in North Carolina is a 27 year-old boy. Anytime I've asked him for ideas of what to do, I've been given the name of a bar. Sigh...I'm a 42 year-old single Mother of 4, what am I going to do in a bar? Shit, that's how I ended up with the first kid! He suggested I try Brightleaf Square in Durham. "There's some really cool bars down there." Of course there are. He mentioned a mexican place he and his wife really like and the clincher...gelato. Now we're talking! And I already knew how to get there since I'd passed it when I was lost on the way to work. Off to Brightleaf.

Durham is divided into several districts. Brightleaf Square is in the middle of the Brightleaf District. There are quite a few restaurants and shops. A bookstore which is never open. I pulled on the door several times before giving up. There was a lady behind the counter and I know she saw me. Rude...must be a Northerner. The grooviest record store ever, Offbeat Records. And yes, heavenly gelato at the Amelia cafe.

My favorite store is Vert and Vogue. http://www.vertandvogue.com/store/index.php They sell eco-friendly clothes and shoes. The feel of these fabrics almost makes up for the not so wallet-friendly prices. The very helpful, very friendly people who work there do make up for the prices. Why IS organic anything so freakin expensive? They are transplanted yankees who clearly embrace Southern hospitality. When I asked about things to do in the area, she gave me a map and circled some of her favorite spots. She even called one of them to find out if they had a band that evening. I bought three t-shirts which were about fifty percent off. This fabric is crazy. I have a t-shirt at home that's so old and has been washed so many times it feels like silk. It's so threadbare I can't wear it in front of anyone. I sleep in it all the time. That's what the shirts I bought at Vert and Vogue feel like. My almost obscene sleep shirt, but they look amazing. I went back a couple days later and bought two more.

My daughter found an upscale resale store in Brightleaf. Fifi's Fine Resale http://www.fifisconsignment.com/index.html. They had Jimmy Choo's for two hundred dollars. I'm not paying two hundred for anything in a resale store! (they weren't my size.) I did however find an amazing skirt for ten bucks. It's covered in gold sequins which if I stand in the right light I can use to blind someone with. 

Shirt from Vert and Vogue - $11, Skirt from Fifi's - $10, blinding people with my sequins? Priceless!

Southern Hospitality

Being from Ohio, I'm used to hateful, grumpy people everywhere I go. Everyone is in too much of a hurry for anything like social graces. In a crowded store people will barrel right at you. No eye contact, no excuse me. They're the bull, you're the red flag. Get out of the way or get run into. I hold my ground.  Come on, run into me. This tactic almost always works. When they realize their path is blocked, they'll look up, say an embarrassed "Excuse me." and walk around. 

The first time I went to the grocery here in the south, I wasn't sure what was going on. People smiled at me. They got out of the way...really they were never in the way. They stayed on their side of the aisle while I was on mine. No one ran in front of me or reached across me for something on the shelf. Then when I got to the check out lane, the boy ringing me up not only smiled at me, he unloaded my cart! I was so taken aback by this I was convinced I was making a grocery faux pas. "Am I supposed to do something other than stand here?" I blurted out. He did a double take. "Um...no, ma'am, you're fine." Then the little shit smiled at me and started laughing. "What?" I asked starting to feel even more uncomfortable. "Well, no ones ever asked me that before." I looked around. All the cashiers were unloading groceries and being polite to the customers. Very confusing. I felt like I was in Pleasantville.

When I walk through the hospital, everyone I pass smiles and say's "Hey." (Hey is southern for hello in case you were wondering.) People are even polite in Wal-mart! Wal-mart!...A cashier in a store downtown was waving me to her register. Two women stepped in front of me. The cashier smiled politely at them and said, "I'll get you right after I get this lady." The two women very graciously stepped out of my way and even chit chatted with me! If that had happened in Cincinnati a brawl would have ensued. 

I took myself out to lunch. I sat at the bar so I wouldn't be a tiny little woman in a huge booth again. The woman beside me started up a conversation. It wasn't one of those awful conversations with a stranger who you wish would just shut the hell up and let you eat in peace. She was extremely nice and pleasant. She and the bartender were full of ideas of fun places for me to try while I'm here.

I was approached by a man on the street begging for money. He was so polite about his begging. I gave him a dollar.

Is it sad that my first instinct when confronted with manners and politeness is to distrust it? 

Tale of The Whale

http://www.taleofthewhalenagshead.com/

I got lost on my first trip to Nag's Head. It took me so long to get there it was almost dark when I got to the beach. I decided to treat myself to a nice meal, head back to the Inn and try the beach again tomorrow. Nag's Head in July, the midst of tourist season, is very crowded. I drove around for a bit looking for a restaurant that struck my fancy. I was about to give up finding what I had in mind when I spotted the Tale of The Whale. This picture is from their website but it's pretty much what I saw while driving up.

I got a table right away. Impressive for a busy Saturday night. I don't normally mind eating dinner alone. I find I'm a delightfully entertaining dinner companion. I get all my jokes...But I felt a little out of place here. Maybe it was because there were so many families. Nag's Head is a place for family vacations. Maybe it was because they put me in a booth that would comfortably seat eight. The table was so big I would've needed to stretch to pass myself the salt. 

I ordered a glass of wine and the bruschetta. It's drizzled in a sauce that looks like Hershey's chocolate syrup. I figured it wasn't chocolate syrup but you never know. Some cooks do weird stuff. Smelled amazing so I dipped a finger in. OH MY GOD! So flippin good! I ate as much of that stuff as I could stuff in. The rest I ate later while reading in bed. (probably they don't like you to eat in bed at a bed and breakfast but I didn't care, it was that good) The server told me it was a balsamic reduction sauce. I've cooked with balsamic vinegar on many an occasion but it never tasted like that! I asked my very helpful and friendly server if he knew how to get back to Edenton. I had no desire to get lost again. Turns out the owners are from Edenton. They gave me very thorough directions. She wrote them down. She even offered to give me her cell number so I could call if I got lost. Now that's hospitality! If that had happened in Cincinnati I would have been lucky to get directions let alone have the proprietor offer to give me her number!

Very enjoyable experience. I will definitely take the kids there for dinner when they get down here. It will be nice to fill the table!

Nag's Head

The beach at last! As mentioned in a previous post, I got lost on the way to the beach so it was already getting dark when I arrived at the Outer Banks. I planned to stick my feet in the ocean, treat myself to a nice meal then drive back to the bed and breakfast. My first visit to the ocean in more than a decade lasted about twenty minutes. As I got to the end of a boardwalk I came even with a young man who was staring at the ocean. "Look." he said without turning to look at me. I followed his gaze and out in the water I saw two surfers floating on their boards. Suddenly, a few feet from them I saw two fins come up then go back down. "What were those?" I asked, thinking immediately of the movie Jaws. "Dolphins." Cool. The smell of the sea, my feet in the waves, dolphin fins rising and falling as the sun set over the ocean. It was an awesome twenty minutes.

The next day I drove back to Nag's Head, the shorter way wherein which I did not get lost. (Okay, I did get a little messed up but got back on track quickly.) The beach in the light of day. Aaaahhhh. The ocean. It doesn't make me feel small and insignificant, it makes me feel like I'm part of something big and amazing. 

Normally I'm quite content standing with my feet in the water because...well...things live in there. Things that bite and sting. Sharks don't come into my living room, I don't go into theirs. I am okay sitting on the beach. But wow. It was hot! Maybe I could get in up to my knees...As I got closer to the water I noticed a plethora of gelatinous objects on the sand. Upon closer inspection they appeared to be breast implants. Hmm...I always wondered where those came from. They're everywhere. Breast implants as far as the eye can see. It looked like a plastic surgeon's playground. They had to be jelly fish, nothing else made sense. I was NOT getting into jelly fish water.

But it was so hot...

Lots of people were swimming. And not writhing in agony from jelly fish stings. I ventured in up to my ankles being very careful to avoid stepping on the breast implant/jellyfish. Then I see people picking the gelatinous masses up and throwing them at each other. It must be okay so I went a little further in. I didn't put a swim suit on because I wasn't planning on getting in. My dumb ass walked into the ocean thinking I'd stay dry. Not sure what I was thinking. The ocean is unpredictable. I'm in six inches of water when a wave hits and completely soaks me. Sigh. 

I played in the breast implant water for a while then sat on my towel to dry off. What a glorious day. I packed up my belongings and headed to my car. My car which I'd be driving in for four hours. Four hours in wet sandy clothes. Whose brilliant idea was that? I was grumbling and loading my car when I saw the bag with the sundress I'd bought in Edenton. I knew that dress would come in handy!

Hmmm...

The woman standing next to her car in Nag's Head very skillfully removing wet clothes from under a dress? That would be me. Girls learn at a very young age how to disrobe without actually disrobing. It's a skill. I stopped for falafel then headed home to Roxboro. And I didn't get lost!

The Captain's Quarter's Inn, Edenton, North Carolina

My first weekend on my own I had two choices. Sit in my tiny little house alone or drive to the beach. Tough choice...I got in the car and headed for the Outer Banks. Three hours one way. I looked for a hotel but they were all outrageous. Who knew it would be so expensive to rent a room at the beach in July! Heck with that! I found a cute little B and B in Edenton, about an hour from the beach. I liked the idea of a bed and breakfast because hey...free breakfast. Who doesn't like free breakfast? 

http://www.captainsquartersinn.com/

This was my view from their porch. Gorgeous house, fabulous food, comfortable room at a very reasonable price. I asked the proprietor for directions around the town. She directed me about a block away from the Inn where I found a pier I could walk on. Cute little shops, great restaurants. I bought a fun little dress. I'm not normally a dress kind of girl but you never know when a summery dress might come in handy. (It did.) Edenton is a fun town but I wanted to see the ocean. I asked the owner of the Inn for directions to Nag's Head. It was supposed to be an hour and fifteen minutes away but ended up being three. Either she is terrible at giving directions or I'm terrible at listening to them. (I'm going with me being terrible at listening to them, see post entitled Getting Lost). When I finally made it back from the beach I settled into my room for the evening. This was my first experience at a bed and breakfast. Essentially you're in a really big house with strangers sleeping in the next room. There are rules of etiquette. Like if you've gotten back late because you can't follow directions and are too stubborn to buy a GPS you should tiptoe up the stairs and get into your room as silently as you can. If you're in bed reading a book that makes you laugh out loud you should muffle the laughter as much as possible. I thought I was going to burst something trying to hold it in. And you know, the more you try to hold laughter in the harder it is...I mean really what are people going to think? I'm the only single person there and I'm laughing by myself at midnight? 

Then, just when I got myself settled down. 

A man starts screaming. "Help! Oh Help! Help!!!" I bolt upright and wait to hear sounds of footsteps, of ambulances. Something to indicate whether I need to run and help or run like hell. I hear muffled voices then silence. Neither of these require my attention. After a few minutes I start feeling indignant. I didn't know you could scream...Had I known screaming was acceptable in a B and B, I wouldn't have worked so hard to hold my laughter in.

In the morning, there is coffee right outside my door. I wish the coffee fairy would come every morning. An elderly couple emerges from the room beside mine. "Bad dream last night?" I ask the gentleman as I'm pouring more coffee. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" the wife says. The man looks a bit embarrassed but frowns. "If you heard me yelling for help, why didn't you help me?" We all laughed and headed down to breakfast. 

Honestly I'm not much of a breakfast eater. Normally I'm too groggy for anything as complex as chewing and swallowing but this was part of the package. Free breakfast. Omelet with peppers, cheese and mushrooms. I don't even like mushrooms but this was amazing. Fruit, bacon, toast and all the coffee I could drink. Now that's what I'm talking about! After breakfast I took my coffee onto the porch to enjoy the view. 

If you're ever in Edenton, check out The Captain's Quarters. If you ask for directions to the beach...it's probably best to write them down.

Getting Lost

Being in a new city I had a reasonable expectation I'd lose my way a time or two but I've been lost so many times it borders on ridiculous. I could buy a GPS but I hate them. I've been in the car with various friends and family who aren't paying attention to their driving, they're paying attention to the voice coming out of the GPS. "It's Bevis and Butthead! Isn't that funny?" Sigh. And people will obey these things even if they're being told to drive off a cliff. Seriously, my sister is the worst. We got lost going to our Dad's house. Yes, our Dad's house. If I hadn't made her stop so we could ask the people we'd passed three times while circling a city block, we'd still be there. A permanent fixture in the town. I suppose if I had a GPS I wouldn't have gotten lost on my way to work the second day. (admitted begrudgingly) I got there with no trouble the first day. I figured I'd have no trouble the next.

I was wrong.  

I went to Henderson from Roxboro via Durham...for those who don't know, that's forty minutes out of my way...oops. It worked out though because the next evening when I went out to explore Durham I knew how to get there. 

Get there, yes, no problem. Get back...Not so much.

When I finally caved in and stopped for directions I was not in a great part of town. I asked the gentleman pumping gas behind me because he didn't look like a serial killer or a drunk. He was new in town and had no clue. At least he didn't kill me. I found my way back.

I even got lost inside the hospital. I thought I was going to the downstairs rehab gym but instead I ended up walking in on a surgery. You'd think the surgical area of the hospital would be marked off a little better! I didn't stick around to ask any questions I just got the hell out of there.

The most embarrassing or at least the most dangerous was when I went the wrong way down an off ramp. I was trying to get on the highway and somehow messed that up. The "wrong way" signs and the car heading straight for me made me realize immediately what I'd done. I've always thought the game of chicken was pretty dumb so rather than engage I pulled into the grass median. My opponent slowed down and asked me if I was okay. I waved him on. Okay? Debatable. My only defense is I don't function well at six am.

I got lost on a day trip to the Outer Banks, turning a one hour trip into three. I called my sister for that one. She got on google maps and talked me in. Sigh. Day trip to Virginia Beach took an hour longer than it should have...

Tried to get to the lake ten minutes from my rental house and ended up in Virginia.

Wonder where I can go to get a GPS...