Oh Yeah! It's Mardi Gras time in SE Louisiana.
If you think that Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) is a one-day or possibly a weekend event, think again. The celebration runs for almost two weeks. While centered in the French Quater / Downtown of New Orleans, Mardi Gras extends its tentacles of celebratory madness to the Northshore of Lake Ponchartrain and down to Holma with stops in between. Mainly, these celebrations are parades of floats dignitaries and marching bands sponsored by Clubs or Krewes, as they are called here.
These Krewes are launching Parades daily. Often two or three of these are happening in New Orleans while there are parades on the Northshore in one or two communities. My guess is, barring the ownership of a helicopter and significant planning, no one could attend the entire slate of parades.
Many of the Krewes select Royalty. King, Queens, Captains, and Lieutenants reign over their parade and the subsequent Ball for one year. These Krewes are social societies, some of which have been operating for many years. Some are rather exclusive others are more... let's say, open to many. A couple of them are restricted to women, and one is all children. One of the oldest and proudest is Zulu which is an African-American Krewe.
All of them have a yearly theme. Themes can be vague and open to interpretation, like "Love and Happiness." The theme can be political satire. I leave you to imagine your own vision of the Rolling Elvis's.
The big blowout is on Fat Tuesday (February 9). It's a local holiday and will interrupt postal service, and banks might be hard to access. In other words, Unless it comes on a plate or in a hurricane class, you might put off shopping for a day or so.
This is all madness at a maddening organized feat, and yet it creates a hugely spontaneous level of joy. The event is unique to this area, and they are justifiably proud of this tradition. It even survived Katrina. It seems a lot of people thought it was inappropriate to party after this tragedy. The Krewe Zulu, an African American group, insisted they were going to the parade, and every else followed them.
It's Quiet Here In the Bayou
For everyone who asked, Lucy, is doing fine. She suffered from a kind of allergy that she had to move to the South to express. It caused her to scratch and lick at parts of her body to the extent she lost part of her fur coat. This was fixed by a visit to the vet, who prescribed some meds, a special bath, and a spray.
She still performs at a very high level. I know when she comes into my office, anytime after eight o'clock, that is time for her to go out to patrol the perimeter and for me to make the bed. Lucy is alert to any activity out in the street. It's her job to bark loudly and for an extended period of time if anything moves out there. This can include anything from the impending danger of a person walking their dog to some poor guy throwing a plastic bagged copy of a shopping paper on our driveway.
I think she misses Maria. But I can't get her to talk about it. As we all know, problems get worse if we don't acknowledge them. And then there's her drinking problem. I think I have had to refill her water bowl three or four times a day instead of maybe once before Maria going North. We will work this out. I'm hoping it will bring us closer together so we can support each other through this crisis.
Speaking of Maria
We talk every couple of days. She is working hard at getting a job back in Wisconsin. I'm trying to win the lottery. She is optimistic one of the many possibilities will pay off in landing something that will allow us to come back to Wisconsin. I'm becoming very adept at cooking for one. Maria is bonding with our kids and grandkids. I'm learning how much there is to learn from documentaries on Netflix and Public Television.
It's cool here at Camp Jeff near the intersection f I-12 and Louisiana 190. I'm saying goodbye until next week. May your week be unseasonable warm with clear skies and light southerly winds. Riding on those breezes will be my kisses and Bro -hugs.
If you think that Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) is a one-day or possibly a weekend event, think again. The celebration runs for almost two weeks. While centered in the French Quater / Downtown of New Orleans, Mardi Gras extends its tentacles of celebratory madness to the Northshore of Lake Ponchartrain and down to Holma with stops in between. Mainly, these celebrations are parades of floats dignitaries and marching bands sponsored by Clubs or Krewes, as they are called here.
These Krewes are launching Parades daily. Often two or three of these are happening in New Orleans while there are parades on the Northshore in one or two communities. My guess is, barring the ownership of a helicopter and significant planning, no one could attend the entire slate of parades.
Many of the Krewes select Royalty. King, Queens, Captains, and Lieutenants reign over their parade and the subsequent Ball for one year. These Krewes are social societies, some of which have been operating for many years. Some are rather exclusive others are more... let's say, open to many. A couple of them are restricted to women, and one is all children. One of the oldest and proudest is Zulu which is an African-American Krewe.
All of them have a yearly theme. Themes can be vague and open to interpretation, like "Love and Happiness." The theme can be political satire. I leave you to imagine your own vision of the Rolling Elvis's.
The big blowout is on Fat Tuesday (February 9). It's a local holiday and will interrupt postal service, and banks might be hard to access. In other words, Unless it comes on a plate or in a hurricane class, you might put off shopping for a day or so.
This is all madness at a maddening organized feat, and yet it creates a hugely spontaneous level of joy. The event is unique to this area, and they are justifiably proud of this tradition. It even survived Katrina. It seems a lot of people thought it was inappropriate to party after this tragedy. The Krewe Zulu, an African American group, insisted they were going to the parade, and every else followed them.
It's Quiet Here In the Bayou
She still performs at a very high level. I know when she comes into my office, anytime after eight o'clock, that is time for her to go out to patrol the perimeter and for me to make the bed. Lucy is alert to any activity out in the street. It's her job to bark loudly and for an extended period of time if anything moves out there. This can include anything from the impending danger of a person walking their dog to some poor guy throwing a plastic bagged copy of a shopping paper on our driveway.
I think she misses Maria. But I can't get her to talk about it. As we all know, problems get worse if we don't acknowledge them. And then there's her drinking problem. I think I have had to refill her water bowl three or four times a day instead of maybe once before Maria going North. We will work this out. I'm hoping it will bring us closer together so we can support each other through this crisis.
Speaking of Maria
We talk every couple of days. She is working hard at getting a job back in Wisconsin. I'm trying to win the lottery. She is optimistic one of the many possibilities will pay off in landing something that will allow us to come back to Wisconsin. I'm becoming very adept at cooking for one. Maria is bonding with our kids and grandkids. I'm learning how much there is to learn from documentaries on Netflix and Public Television.
It's cool here at Camp Jeff near the intersection f I-12 and Louisiana 190. I'm saying goodbye until next week. May your week be unseasonable warm with clear skies and light southerly winds. Riding on those breezes will be my kisses and Bro -hugs.
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