Redundancy: Thursday 13 Revisited

I was not happy with the photos I posted yesterday. I stubbornly wanted two side-by-side and in order to do that I had to shrink them which is fine, except because I am barely computer literate, they got distorted in the process. So I am giving myself permission to recreate the reality of Thursday 13, this time focusing a bit on the houses and buildings of Provincetown.

Okay, so this isn't a house. But isn't she beautiful? The flower accessory is temporary, placed by the ghost of Michael Jackson for all I know, and actually, she's most stunning all by her naked self.

The town has a new library, a massive and historic renovation on Commercial Street. For almost a year (my estimate only) the massive steeple sat on the ground. I wish I had been around to witness it being hoisted up the equivalent of four or five stories. The renovation continues, including magnificent scaffolding. I love scaffolds. I don't know why, but they make me want to fly.

This is the hardware store. I've taken this photo strictly to brag that Provincetown has an artistically and historically appropriate hardware store. No blatant chains or signage for this coastal town.

This is JB walking in front of me, heading home, probably wondering why the hell I stop so often and/or take so long with my camera.

Oh...did I mention that I will never hear the end of this? We are on the Cape, stop for pizza, and I can hear her squealing from the back seat. "Look! Look!" she screams. "It's a relative!"

"Oh, Emily, " I say, "I'll be damned...."

It's back of an ordinary building, which happens to have a first class view of this:

And here we have the single family house JB and I watched being restored for the better part of a season and wished it was ours...

Liz and JB and I sat at a picnic table outside this bakery on a brisk sunny day and shared our soups, sandwiches, and three and a half chocolate macaroons. I will remember this because this might be the moment in time, looking back, when I understood I had to move forward, that I could not continue to mourn the loss of someone I've loved, that my inability to understand was best served by choosing acceptance and forgiveness for both of us.

Ta Da! Witness the facelift of the Town Hall. I made the mistake of attributing so many beautiful gardens to the high numbers of the gay, lesbian and art community, and my sweet forever friend Baino nailed me on it. So I will tread lightly here: most town halls are white, at least that has been my experience. And until this year, this town hall was white. But in Provincetown, with "so many residents having a natural flair for color and good taste" (how's that, Baino?), these new colors are simply awesome.

And finally, for years I've bought magazines, newspapers, gum, candy, postcards and suntan lotion in this little convenience store. But the truth is every time I step inside I want in the worse way to buy a pack of Marlboro Lights. It's been years since I smoked my two packs a day, and God help me if I ever fall to that addiction again, but sometimes, looking across the bay or feeling my toes in the wet sand, I just want to blow a smoke ring or two straight up in the air, that is, after a long deep orgasmic inhale......

Tis the weekend. Here's wishing you a good one. And here's a special smooch to Sonia...