The small mill town that lives cheek by jowl with my hometown calls itself, with all due irony, the' Paris of the Piedmont.' For a few years, the town even held a Fête de la Musique, as French towns do, each summer. Now, there aren't many Parisian vestiges, ironic or not, to be found here---except one. It's Carrboro's own version of the Wallace fountains you see tucked here and there, in Parisian quartiers. Here it is, with a sketch I made in 2006 of a Wallace fountain in Saint-Germain des Près.
One of these fountains has understated elegance and a sense of proportion---it's the fountain version of the Little Black Dress. The other one, trying to be all uptown and stylish, has loaded itself down with frills and furbelows. It's the fountain version of Dolly Parton. The world is, thank heavens, big enough for both.
If all goes well, I will be in Paris and then Brittany in less than two weeks. I'm packing lightly, knowing I may have to turn around and come home fast, if my mother takes a turn for the worse. Right now, her big health issues are resolved. Pain management is coming along nicely. She has family members and home help with her 7 days a week. Until I leave, I'll be driving back and forth to her hometown, as I have since early August. It's so wonderful seeing her recover, even if slowly, from her traumatic fall .