Coffee Log, Year 2, Day 95

Hi.

Coffee: Maxwell House Drip, Office Coffee

There was a highway beside the neighborhood where I grew up. It didn’t look like a highway and everyone called it Church St. It was two lanes most places. There were many spots you couldn’t go faster than 35. But take it far enough East and you’d hit the Atlantic, far enough West and you’d be in California. It’s strange to think of that packed asphalt having the power to take you to a different time zone.

The NC DOT is currently trying to extend Interstate 540 through the southern half of the Triangle. They want it to be a beltline, something to take the edge off the traffic and accelerate peripheral growth. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it isn’t. Either way, the project involves tearing down 1800 acres of forests and buying out 209 homes with eminent domain. That’s a lot of change for a road that won’t even take you to California.

Tonight, two kids were playing on the swings at my apartment complex. The sun had gone down enough to take the edge off another hot day. The kids ran, jumped, and twisted up the swings like two steel hangs of DNA. Neither of them’s thinking of a highway, or property laws, or the Atlantic, but I wonder what this town will look like when they’re my age? What will be the ratio of neighborhoods to highways?

Currently Reading: Have picked a new book but not had the chance to start it yet; more info to come

Support Relief for Family Suffering at the Border  – RAICES DONATION CAMPAIGN

The difference between a path and a road is not only the obvious one. A path is little more than a habit that comes with knowledge of a place. It is a sort of ritual of familiarity. As a form, it is a form of contact with a known landscape. It is not destructive. It is the perfect adaptation, through experience and familiarity, of movement to place; it obeys the natural contours; such obstacles as it meets it goes around.

Wendell Berry, The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays

Coffee Log, Day 85

Hi.

Coffee: Organic Honduran, Trader Joe’s brand

Life in motion: a 28-yr-old guy living life on fast arteries; last week Durham; Monday Chapel Hill; home in Cary; today in Apex. After work, I’ll drive to Raleigh and read the back-end of a short story to a captive audience. Good manners will make them hear me, not chains of course, though no judgement if you’re into that sort of thing.

I’m trying to say I’m busy. This is my fourth blog in a row written on phone. There’s another highway out the window. Knowing my luck, it’ll probably have me soon.

Currently Reading:
Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

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Never be so busy as not to think of others. – Mother Teresa

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