Soar-Dream-France

The Crying Angel Cries Because...

 

On my way home on my bike from the Quarter on Mardi Gras Day, I went up Esplanade Avenue. With no people around, I thought I might be able to get one of those "priceless" shots of the Crying Angel at St. Anna's. I semi-circled around her as much as I could, but nothing was as pretty as the shot I 'd gotten walking by a while back.

 

As I was getting ready to go sans photos; I saw it! Her left hand has no fingers! I ran through all the possibilites for the missing fingers in my mind, but the bottom line is-If all my fingers were missing on my left hand...I'd cry too.

 

 

Ma Soeur

 

The phone rang yesterday morning. It was my friend Steve who said: "I'm checking to see if you were home, I'm bringing your sister over." Now, my sister is in St. Louis. All I could think was I didn't think she was so unhappy that she would come to New Orleans and to Steve's. Then it hit me...Steve has my 24 x 36 photo of Kat that I took at Wendy's back in 2001, when Kat and her husband and I went to France together to sign on the Chatette.

 

 

Steve had looked at my inscription on the back in shock, and asked: "Had it really been six years ago, Laury?" We agreed that the years seem to be flying, and yes...Dali, Sam and I would have been in France full-time seven years in May of this year.

As friends and family offer to return bits and pieces that I'd gifted them when I left, I'd say: "That's so sweet, and you know you'll get them back when I return to France." Trouble is, now that I've been back and settling in again; I'm feeling more like splitting my time 5 months in New Orleans and 7 months in France may be the way to go. Who knows, and isn't it nice that I don't have to decide anything at this moment?

 

HUGE MERCI to Steve for giving Ma Soeur a home for all that time. Having her hanging above my bed is home for me in many more ways than one.

 

 

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The St. Charles Street Car Cometh

 

The rainy Thursday morning before Mardi Gras, I hitched a ride to Tulane and then took the St. Charles Street Car to the Jackson/Esplanade Bus home.

 

The sun was out. Mardi Gras was in the air. I hopped off at Jackson and St. Charles to make my transfer. It was the first day since I started teaching that I could truly catch my breath. I wasn't on the train. The blinders were off.

 

 

 

I stood there on that corner of Jackson and St. Charles, not quite sure what to do...cars everywhere, noise everywhere, people everywhere, street cars everywhere. I felt like I'd been plunked down on this corner from another planet. I asked myself how in the world I got here? But I knew...

I'd made a difficult choice.

 

So, I turned to join the young man in the bus stop shelter. He had his bike with him. We talked bikes, buses, where we were from, how New Orleans gets in your blood, and how he was hoping to be a flambeau carrier in some of the parades. It was fun. My feet were planted again in the rich New Orleans soil of home.

 

Just a Little More Mardi Gras

As much as Mardi Gras is New Orleans and I enjoy it; sweet, lovely Valentine's Day often gets shunted aside. Not me, but I did manage to get to the Quarter on my bike for a bit on Mardi Gras Day and got a few pretty shots. Enjoy!

Say it With Swans

                              Happy Valentine's Day!

Mardi Gras Morning

Rumor had it (a la Barbara), that the Clydesdales would be loading up at the stables around 6am. So, I hopped on my bike and headed over through City Park on a still very dark morning. I parked myself on the same old picnic bench where Lady and King appeared like magic with muddy paws and sloppy kisses, but I didn't mind.

It was chilly and damp. By 7am, nature was calling and I was beginning to think I wasn't going to be able to hold out. On my bike down the long drive, I hear "Laury" from the other side of the road! Barbara and Frank had been there the whole time too, so we hung out and waited together. Barbara was ready. She is a serious photographer and was tri-podded up. Even though I'd given up my close up spot...watching these majestic horses, ribboned and braided in their best, prance and sway down that very long drive through the old oaks took my breath away...again! Soon, they were off to Rex!

On to the rest of the day, that turned out to be a  special reminder of fun, friends, and what Mardi Gras and New Orleans have always meant to me.

 

But for now...more Clydesdales!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eric Says...

LET MARDI GRAS BEGIN!

Happy Mardi Gras Everyone!

Faces of Endymion

Endymion turned the corner from Orleans onto Carrollton shockingly "on-time" for the first time since I can remember. By then, my morning scenes had changed dramatically and I had missed the Clydesdales.

Saturday night, it was the faces that grabbed me...faces of floats, faces on floats, faces of friends, and faces of children having fun.

Enjoy the "faces" that follow...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Endymion Essentials

Littered with Ladders...Port-o-lets popping up like posies under every ancient oak and street light...Breakfast cooking on an open grill under your tent...Abba, The Neville Brothers, Doobie Brothers, and disco hits blaring at 7am in the morning: you must be in New Orleans on the morning before the Endymion Parade!

 

The morning show has a flavor all its own. The advanced teams are out early to set up and have staked their spots to be ready for the night parade. I wandered the beginning of the route from Orleans to Carrollton around 7am. The party had already begun. Are you ready?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A Clydesdale Morning of More

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

This gorgeous guy has a special spot in City Park. I stumbled on him one Sunday crossing the road not too far from the NOPD Stables when I was going home on my bike. He already had one photographer chasing him...why not two? He just wasn't very cooperative-lots of tail feathers for me!

On my most recent return home from the stables, I heard a cock-a-doodle doo as I passed but saw nothing. I stopped and looked around a bit, thinking it could be him again. There he was...with his head bobbing in and out from one of the roadside trees. I chased him a bit too and finally got the shot above. Why did the chicken cross the road?...

...to get away from the crazy photographers!