a beautiful day in my neighborhood

Our neighborhood is another reason we love living here. Within easy walking distance we have eight different places where you can get coffee, drinks, sandwiches, etc. (About the Hubig’s sign: they make pies like a Hostess fruit pie only better! They have the usual fruits, but they also have pineapple, chocolate, peach and my personal favorite, sweet potato! You cannot buy them at the bakery, you get them at stores, but they make the neighborhood smell yummy!)

We have a beautiful shady park where kids play on brand new equipment purchased by our neighborhood association. There are usually people of all ages playing with their canine companions, sometimes pint- size flag football leagues practices, and often there are Frisbees flying around. This is also where the “traveling kids” gather. Some call them gutter punks. They will be leaving soon. Like the swallows at San Juan Capistrano they come south when it gets cold up north and leave when we start to heat up. They bring their instruments and play for change. They look like Mad Max extras with an Eastern European flair. They will ask for your leftovers when you walk home from a restaurant. This park is where the photo of the phone booth art was taken. We don’t know who did it. The phone hasn’t been there in years. Someone will probably mess it up soon. But it was fun to see it.

The make up of our neighborhood has changed in the past three years. Many of the people who lived on our street before the storm used to work in the quarter. They did not own cars. Many did not return. Now we have folks who work in other parts of the city and they do drive. Parking is not as easy to come by. (Sometimes I do miss a driveway.) We have lawyers, teachers, carpenters, police officers, movie and video producers, a plumber, a magician, a nurse, a furniture salesman, a retired couple from the petroleum industry and a retired stripper, just to name a few. And apparently we have a person who likes chickens! I am told that they are named, Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner and that the lady who owns them is a vegetarian and keeps them for the eggs. Emma and I find them fascinating. There is also a Pygmy goat closer to the quarter (Emma is not sure about the goat). Stay tuned, I will try for a photo in the near future!

And another reason...

Eight reasons, actually. A couple from church already had two sweet little girls under the age of four when they became pregnant with quadruplets. After the babies where strong enough to come home the whole church pitched in to help with the feedings. Mike and I go almost every Sunday evening. I had forgotten how soothing it could be to hold a tiny baby. It was like therapy. At six months they are starting solids, smiling and laughing. These photos were taken when the babies were around three months old. Being able to be part of this family in this way has meant so much to us. Paul and Jenny Kate always say, “thank you so much for all your help”, but it is us who are thankful. Thankful and so blessed.

It is seldom boring

There is always something to do in New Orleans. I consider that a perk to living here. If we don’t celebrate it with a parade, we celebrate it with a festival. (This is not an exhaustive list, just the ones that come to my mind first.) We have parades for holidays- Halloween, Mardi Gras, Easter. We have parades for Saints- St. Patrick, St. Joseph, Joan of Arc. We have festivals for food: Po’boys, mirlitons, seafood; separate festivals to celebrate different types of music (Cajun, Brass bands) and festivals to celebrate wide ranges of music (Quarter Fest and Jazz Fest). That is one thing the festivals and the parades have in common: Music-everywhere, all the time. The parades generally all have throws in common-beads, cups, coins, stuffed toys. But St. Patrick’s Day parade Uptown is different, they throw food! Everything you need to make Irish Stew, but the corned beef. I love that parade. This year we caught carrots, potatoes and seven cabbages. I gave all but two away. It rained before, during and after the parade. Hey, in New Orleans water in one form or another is always interfering with our plans. Do we cancel? Not us. We get our umbrellas and shrimp boots and off we go. Ian was home for spring break so he went with us. (I asked Ian after Thanksgiving if he went to the Macy’s parade in NYC. He said he saw it last year, and well, after growing up in New Orleans he found parades without throws kind of boring) We bumped into some friends, Mary Lee and Toy, from church. They had friends with them from out of town. Half the fun for us this year was seeing the out- of -towners enjoying themselves at the parade. It was delightful despite the rain.

Crawfish season is another reason

Who was the first person to look at those and say, “hmmm, I bet if I boiled them with some spices they would taste great!” I do not care for the texture myself; I don’t like shrimp either. But I love the way the garlic is so soft that it spreads on the bread like butter. I love the little red potatoes and corn on the cob, the onions and sausage. Yummm! I love the whole atmosphere about a crawfish boil. There is something very communal about grown ups sitting at newspaper covered tables, outside, eating with their hands. It must be the kindness of God that crawfish season coincides with Lent.

Another reason why

The high today was 72 and the sky was bluebird blue. Thursday and Friday, more of the same!

Christians behaving badly

Yesterday, Saturday, was the first day of the big Mardi Gras weekend. Here in the Quarter, the craziness only grows from now until Tuesday night. In other parts of the city, families along the parade routes are having barbeque, crawfish boil, and King Cakes on the neutral ground with their neighbors and little kids are catching more beads that their mothers will have room to store. On Bourbon Street, young women will take their shirts off to catch beads. They do not live here. All locals know that EVERBODY get beads no matter what, more beads than you will ever want or need. But young, drunk female tourists are not the only people misbehaving. Christians from other towns and states arrive and start preaching. The only problem is that most of them are not “speaking the truth in love”! Yesterday Mike heard a preacher with a bullhorn say to a man, "so you're a Catholic, are you also a child molester?" Tell me, how can people think this kind of behavior is going to advance the cause of Christ? They have no idea the damage they do with this behavior. They will return to their hometowns feeling that they have been persecuted for preaching the gospel. Yet we remain, picking away at the walls raised in relationships by their faulty representation of the Lord, trying daily to live out God's love to the people who live and work in the French Quarter. One the bright side, Mike talked to some Christians from Texas holding a sign that says, “Despite what they say, Jesus loves you.” He was impressed with their kindness.

A quaint drinking town with a hurricane problem

I kept waiting for a time when I could list all the reasons of why we continue to live here despite the crime, crumbling infrastructure, corrupt politicians etc. Well, that perfect time never seems to arrive so I will list them one at a time if necessary. Aside from the obvious, because God wants us here, duh, there is the weather. It is warm here. The sun shines almost every day. There is color all year round. Since Thanksgiving I have had pansies, snapdragons, and hibiscus blooming in my courtyard. Yes, we do have suffocating humidity in the summer and fall, and that hurricane/flooding issue to contend with, but every place has their own natural disasters to handle. I prefer to face ours with the perks that living here provide. More about those on another day.