Too busy to enjoy the fruits of my labor

Four months ago I would not have taken a break from my " to do list" to enjoy the two hours that I have just spent sprucing up my yard.
Perhaps that is why the satisfaction levels that we report are so low. We work task-by- task and do not sit under the branches of beauty that we have created.
The peach geraniums that I just planted, the .....
Wait, I 'm sitting on my porch, and what is it I hear?

The Baptist  Church group down the street is singing, "This Little Light of Mine." I saw the tent that they erected this morning as I was walking our miniature dachshund. Had I not seized this moment to enjoy the fruits of my labor, I would not have been serenaded.
As usual, I am humbled by the many miracles that surround me daily.
I am most grateful.

A view from my front porch

A View from My Front Porch

It isn't necessary to leave your neighborhood in New Orleans, if you wait long enough, the parade comes right up to your front steps. This Spy Boy with the make-believe beaded rifle is from the Wild Tchoupitoulas Indians.
On St. Joseph's Day, March 19th, these Indians march through the streets unannounced.
My neighbor Alexis, on the left, sat on her porch waiting for the arrival. She knocked on my door around 8:20 P.M. to say,"They are coming now." Out the door I hopped, eager to see this with my own eyes.
Connect to the links below to hear the sounds of the streets of New Orleans. Every corner has its own sound...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=498LZARXzN0http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GVYMEpA1RGI

Emergency room dramas play out in every city across the world. It seems to be a little bird's eye view of life.
Waiting with people in pain is difficult and made more dramatic by the Constant activity In the ER.

A family consisting of a very tired mother with a local food store logo on her shirt came in around 2 A.M. with a precious little girl and a handsome boy. The girl must have been around  4 and the boy 10. He walked up to the coffee server and preceded to make a cup of coffee. The little sister kept saying, " tup, my tup." While pointing her cute little fingers towards the stack of styrofoam cups.

The very exhausted looking mother told the boy, " to get some water in the cup and give it to her."
The precious little girl in pink became more vocal and demanding. Her sweet hair braids and cute little pink glittered shoes moved more and more vigorously as she repeated,  " tup, tup, tup."
The mother got a cup, filled it with water and two packages of sugar, and a straw to the sugar water.
The little pink girl was satisfied, but after downing one "tup," she demanded more. She was given three tups of sugar water in all before spilling one cup into her lap.She began twirling around with her wet bottom and dragging her mother's coat on the floor.

This scene continued for over an hour while we listened to some very upset woman describing her mother's bizarre behavior to a listener over her cell phone. We heard about the unhealthy condition of her mother and father's bedroom with stacks of old things that needed to be moved. This daughter was beside herself and very frustrated with her mother and her mother's apparent dementia. The daughter repeated the story about five or six times to the same listener.
Next.......

A one A.M. Trip to the emergency room offers an off-line view not often seen.

It seems that strange events happen in the early morning hours and so often go unnoticed. Here 's a real Emergency Room event that has never been published.
Nurse Pat, the ER nurse assigned to my friend's case, and I exchanged stories as we waited for the CAT Scan results. I told her some interesting at-risk student tales and she shared the following week- end ER story. .
It seems that a man came into the ER experiencing labor pains! Yes, he insisted that he was going to deliver a baby. He returned the next night in a pink tutu and said that he had delivered a baby boy and got his shape back by dancing!
Now there's quite a story. Even Tenneesse would have had a difficult time with that one. Or ,maybe not, since some of the Williams detractors maintain that Tennesses's women characters were really men in drag.
https://www.google.com/search?q=men+in+tutu&hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=h6C&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=ZP1SUc6aC4Gy9gTToIDABg&ved=0CAoQ_AUoAQ&biw=1906&bih=918

Pissing on Death at Mardi Gras

Louisiana and St. Charles Avenue

Riding the St. Charles line towards downtown, the former Bultman Funeral home now converted to a Fresh Market

slides by on my left. As I sit with my elbow propped up on the sill, I recall an anecdote from  a former Jefferson City Buzzard Member.

He told me that on Mardi Gras day when the group marched towards Louisiana Avenue, they would stop at the Bultman Funeral Home and urinate into a wooded coffin  box filled with sawdust. He said that this was the day to "piss on death."

I chuckle every time I ride by the now Fresh Market. I wonder if anyone there knows about this tradition. 

As I age, the idea becomes more and more interesting to me.

The Buzzards march on Mardi Gras day behind Pete Fountains Haft Fast Marching Group. Both of these organizations are jewels. Check out the WWL video from Fat Tuesday, February 12, 2013.

Tennessee would have been proud. One of the Tennessee Williams experts arrived at the lovely Monteleone Hotel in a dispirited state. It looked as though the guest had indulged in one too many cocktails; as though the old quarter had taken another causality.

The sirens entice the visitor to stay for one more until one more turns into too many and one forgets time and commitments. So Mr. Williams your legacy lives on in the hearts, souls, and spirits of your followers.

Your preferred spirit was used by one of the sponsors of the Festival, Hendricks Gin, to create a new drink: an Iguana Punch. This new creation combined cucumber and celery juices, Chartreuse, gin, simple syrup, and  "spanked" mint leaves.

Spanked is a term the mixologist used to describe slapping a sprig of fresh mint between the palms of her hands. After spanking the mint, she placed in stem down into my drink. I wondered where those hands have been. My obsessive mother would not have allowed me to drink this mixture because of the un-gloved hands.

So here's to you mom, Mr. Williams, and another success! You character lives on in the revitalized  French Quarters where the experts discuss the exotic nature of New Orleans and your tattoo remains visible and worn on the shirts, tote bags, caps, and hearts of its citizens.

Tennessee Williams Festival

 http://www.tennesseewilliams.net/the-box-office-is-open


The Street Car Named Desire no longer runs, but the Tennessee Williams Festival continues like 
a European train, always running on time. So many tales about the man, the myth, and his life.......

No one was yelling, "Stella, Stella," but if you listened with historic ears you could hear Stanley. Today's version of Stanley is the young man dressed with name brands all over his t-shirt, pants, and shoes and tattoos up and down his muscular arms.

He had one of those very muscular arms tightly wound around his fille de la journée (girl of the day).
I wonder why the vice grip on this likewise tattooed young woman.  Does he worry that she will try to escape and reveal some deep dark secrets if he lets go of her? 

Yesterday, I meet Bobby, who said that she was born in Delaware. She said that the National 
Lampoon Magazine listed Delaware as the most boring state in America. Little wonder, like Mr. Williams, she clings to the Big Easy.  She seemed to be carrying all of her worldly possessions in the three new plastic bags she held tightly to her chest as she regaled us with stories of her on-and-off visits to New Orleans since 1986. 
She spoke of this city with great love, yet she seemed to carry a great mystery like Maggie or Amanda. 

I understand why Mr. Williams found this city and its street cars so enticing. 

Bride and Groom Boarding

On the way to an Italian American Parade in the historic French Quarter on a packed street car...
Bobby, Laurie and I were standing in the back doing the street car rock and roll.

You rock to the left as the car starts up and roll to the right as it sways alone the tracks.
This rhythm soothes many as heads nod to the same beat.

As the car stopped at Jackson Avenue, we heard applauds from the front of the car. It grew louder. Unable to see the source of this unusual response, we looked around heads and saw a bride and groom rocking along the center of the crowd!

Full gown and tuxedo.. He said, "I don't know why her father followed me with the shotgun; I did marry her."

' gotta love this city.

Bottle Annie
She boarded the St. Charles Street Car Line with a pint of her "best" friend. From beneath her shirt, secured in her bra, she removed a pint of Hot Damn Schnapps. Cap removed, she downed a swig and proceeded to tell all of us how she was going to tell the judge that her nephew "had been arrested illegally."

I love the streetcar.