Sunday, July 3, 2011


There is a plague overwhelming the South. The South USA, I mean. We call them Stinkbugs, and they really reek. It makes skunk smell seem friendly somehow. At least one can get rid of it by lighting a match. Sulfur really doesn't smell that bad compared to stinkbugs.

I have been reading David Sedaris, any David Sedaris, and know that all of his stories of Raleigh, North Carolina, are true. No matter what he says, they are all true. My relatives on my mother's side live in Raleigh, and I can believe any story put out. I had a great-Uncle in Raleigh we called "Uncle Frogface." That is the epitome of life in Raleigh.

I remember walking into Aunt Ella's house on a summer afternoon and hearing nothing but a ticking clock. I remember my Grandfather sinking a watermelon in the local spring and pulling it out, cold and dewy, for dinner. I remember Mr. Honeycutt's peacocks and trying to pull plums off of a tree, whilst dodging bulls and our great-uncle Mortimer. And the chickens. And the donkeys. And the horses...

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