When you lose someone who has been important to you, it's only natural that old conversations and memories rise to the surface. Some are more poignant than others, but some become life lessons. Most of my life, I've struggled with wanting things from people that they cannot or will not give. I saw that I had two choices: to stay and fight for what I wanted or to walk away. I learned from my friend Vann Yates that there is a third choice: to stay and accept them just the way they are without sacrificing yourself. I believe that when you are able to accept people for who they are, your unconditional love makes them perfect.
So today, I celebrate that "perfect" Vann Yates whose life lessons live on. Even though today is the anniversary of his abrupt and violent passing, I hold him close in my heart every day. Missing you and loving you still, Vann.
After last week's moan about my disappointment in the changing French Quarter and my inability to do the things I love; yesterday made a liar out of me. It was a Tuesday, not a Friday. So, that probably helped. I also get out of class at 10am and not noon, so I'm sure that made a difference too. I had a couple of errands to run...post office and bank that are easy to do in the Quarter on my way home.
Once I was finished, I decided to throw caution to the wind on that cool, pretty, sunshiny day and take my chances on some of my French Quarter loves.
I'd been wanting to have my tarot cards read for a while now. I'd stopped in to see MY Tarot Card Reader, Otis Biggs, at The Bottom of the Cup on Chartres Street a week or two ago. He was about to start a phone reading so there wasn't a slot for me, but there was enough time for hugs, kisses, I miss you's, I love you's, and; I'll be back. Yesterday was the day.
Otis has been reading my cards since the early 80's.
He's predicted many interesting happenings in my life. I always leave Otis feeling energized, pampered and ready to face the world. Yesterday was no different.
I looked at my watch. It was a little after 11 so I knew that the Napoleon House would be open. No line. No crowd. No wait, AND I got to choose my favorite solo spot back in the corner alcove. My waiter and I chuckled-he's waited on me many times, but I never remember his name. Now, that doesn't keep you from hugging.
So, as we hugged we both laughed and did our Bob-Laury-Laury-Bob together. We practiced saying each others' names each time we were at the table together. I sure hope it helps my swiss-cheese brains.
Ever since the take over by the Brennan's earlier last year; I've had my eyes pealed for changes. Manager/Owner, Chris Montero came over to say hello. We bemoaned a bit about eating too much, sedintary lives, and getting older. We agreed-exercise regimes are important...he runs-I have my bike! Mack also came out for hugs and hellos. I was back again to feeling at home and happy at the Napoleon House.
I confess to noticing a couple of new things. The French Nicolas Pinot Noir is no longer on the wine list. And there were these interesting new artistic renderings amongst the grafitti that I hadn't noticed before. It looks like a number of people had actually dug into the plaster to make a hole in which to do their writings.
The most impressive change was the meatball sandwich that I ordered, along with my sandwich side of jambalaya. I've always loved the Napoleon House Meatball Sandwiches...nice sized meatballs and sauce with the mozzarella cheese melted over the top, on French Bread brought to the table open. Yesterday's Napoleon House Meatball Sandwich arrived at my table closed. The meatballs were cut so that they covered all of the French Bread. The mozarella appeared to be melted on the French Bread. The piece de resistance was the sauce. This red sauce was full of pretty pieces of green and red peppers, probably some other vegetables, and was just a tiny bit sweet. It was perfection. I'm loving this new version of the Napoleon House Meatball Sandwich. It's at the top of my list for future visits-Shrimp Stuffed Avocado and Remoulade Sauce step aside.
While enjoying my lunch, my phone rang. Friends were meeting in Jackson Square and invited me to join them. What a perfect topper to a perfect French Quarter Day of Loves...sitting in front of the St. Louis Cathedral, enjoying my friends, the music and people watching before I headed on home. These are the days I live for in New Orleans. My days of love, laughter, fun, and good friends everywhere! Wouldn't you?
What do you do with vintage hats and gloves? Why, you hang them in your kitchen, of course! The best part of hanging these hats for me, was wondering if anyone from my family who is also hanging on the wall had ever worn them. I love hats. I tried them on as I hung. I discovered quickly in the hanging process that not every black hat I'd hoped to hang would work. Some shapes tumbled constantly, so I surrendered. Back to the hat box they went. Don't these two black ones look very pretty in our new vintage family/kitchen corner?
DON'T FORGET!-Auction at 411 North Elizabeth today! This is the last hurrah! Hope you can stop by! Preview at 10am-starts at 10:30...all in the hands ofWalter Holt of "Have Gavel Will Travel".
Meanwhile, over at the Peristyle and my lion...I took a break and rested a bit. With so much swirling around in my life: Mom; work; and, sorting things out to be able to go home this summer-it feels good to sit with my pal, center, and remind myself to just take it all a step at a time. Some days I'm better at that than others.
The small hedge of roses is already starting to bloom. What a sweet accent for these huge and powerful paws!
What really caught my eye were the fountains. I'd seen them on previous visits, but this day there was something about the sunshine that made them even more spectacular.
I knew this weekend would be a weekend of work. I have a couple of different projects I'm working on. I've teased that this weekend is Syllabus Saturday and Syllabus Sunday. That means I sit at my spot under reams of paper: reading; figuring; charting; typing; and, all with Sam on my papers, on my keyboard, or somewhere between me and my work.
It can make a difficult task more difficult. But, I love her even if she doesn't listen very well. Could you stay angry at that little face? Not me!
One of the things I've learned working for myself, is that on days like these my morning bike rides and exercise are even more important. The bike ride gets me out of the house. I usually have my camera with me. Yesterday was a morning of Saturday Surprises.
I was shocked to turn a corner and discover that the Japanese Magnolias were already in bloom. They are always so pretty, and these were no exception.
City Park was blooming too. There's something about blooms at dawn that always makes me smile and pull out the camera I have in my pocket.
I ride on to the other favorites along my way. I get muddy. I talk to the birds. I ride my lion. Sometimes, I talk to the people.
It's just all so pretty that it makes it easier to push myself to work when most of the rest of the world is out having fun, relaxing, or doing things that are on their own personal agenda. Working for yourself doesn't always allow that, but ah...there are other benefits!
I'm hoping to finish the syllabus project early afternoon. Then, it's on to finish up Syllabus Sunday morning with Schizophrenia Sunday evening. I've got a chart and powerpoint revisions to complete to be ready to teach on Tuesday morning...I teased my sister earlier-I have too many S's in my life!
Writing about St. Louis Cemetery #2 yesterday brought me joy in more ways than one. The stone spoke. One of the reasons I love cemeteries is that I love stone. Stone speaks to me. I am surrounded by stone at home. Writing about the cemetery and stone carried me home to Cadrieu yesterday. It was a place I needed to be and feel.
There is a peace and centering that I feel in stone. As you can see, for a rock girl like me; I've found my "heaven on earth" in Cadrieu.
Wishing you the discovery of the path to your own "heaven on earth"...
On my rainy riding under the Claiborne Overpass day last Thursday, my route took me past St. Louis Cemetery #2. I've wandered through #1 and #3, taking many photos along the way. I'd never wandered in #2 before, and promised myself that I would come back. This cemetery sits right on the edge of the expressway. It also has a reputation for not being particularly "safe", but I had my camera with me yesterday so I took a chance. It was difficult not to notice: the disrepair; the age; the lack of "live" flowers; and, "French" everywhere. But most of all: the solitary statue.
I don't usually take photos of the tombstones, but this one struck me. It was very old. Its occupant, Monsieur Seignouret, had been born in Bordeaux in the later 1700's and had passed away in the mid-1800's. It filled me with questions about why and how he came to New Orleans, and what his life might have been like during those times?
Flowers and the unusual tend to catch my eye when I wander. The paths I took had no live flowers, but plenty of the pretty silk or ceramic variety. You can even find a strand or two of Mardi Gras beads from time to time. I particularly loved the vases that were often part of or beside each tombstone. I fell in love with the one above.
Sometimes it's more than the flowers that are special.
Although they would be beautiful standing alone; it's the backdrop of the stone and the contrast of soft to strong that melange that magic that brings out something even more powerful.
It wasn't unusual for me to head to the Quarter after I finished teaching on Fridays last semester. The Napoleon House is always my first choice when I want to treat myself after a grueling class or a particularly long week. What I'm finding these days is that not only is my first choice a difficult one, but so are my second, third and further on down down the list.
One Friday, I arrived at the Napoleon House around 12:30 for lunch. It was so crowded. I was told there would be a 30 minute wait.
On to Maspero's, the same. I next headed over to Ralph and Cacoo's thinking I'd REALLY treat myself to a nice seafood dinner for lunch...they were completely closed. I headed on home on my bike down Bourbon Street.
There it was...the Clover Grill!
I decided on a big burger and a vanilla milkshake.
I wasn't disappointed.
Call me crazy, but treating myself should not be this difficult. It's one thing when it's Mardi Gras or Jazz Fest and you know the place will be insane. You can make a choice to go or not go. I live here. There are things I love to do. The things I love to do are becoming more and more difficult.
These days, I find myself opting to go home instead of to the Quarter. I'm getting good a treating myself there. It's cheaper. I don't have to wait to eat. There are no crowds in my kitchen. There are no rude tourists on the road or in the lines. There are no drunks and no screamers!
All that said, it still makes me sad. I find I long for the days when I could enjoy riding my bike into the French Quarter. No one would try to run me off the road or curse me out. I could lock up and wander to favorite spots where I could enjoy a drink or eats that didn't break the bank. There are days I want to scream: "Hey, I live here! What about me!"
All that said: The Clover Grill does a mean hamburger and a great old fashioned milkshake. Check them out sometime. You can find them on the downtown riverside corner of Bourbon and Dumaine."
Early morning bike rides have always been an essential to the reduction of stress in my life. Early on, I began to visit "my" lion and got into the habit of sitting "with" him in the very early mornings. It was "our" time, with no one else around.We communicated. He became a daily stop. With him, I could: focus; center; pay attention in the quiet; and, I could recpature those childhood feelings of innocence and trust that everything would be okay.
Even though I needed my solitary "doses of lion" even more after the storm, I'd sometimes head that way with my friend Gaynell.
During Christmas of 2005, we headed that way. I shared my guy and we visited together while I enjoyed him and she enjoyed the ducks.
Even in the midst of the chaos, we found a way to stay the course and still enjoy what there was left for us to enjoy. I know I was grateful he was right where I'd left him. And so this morning...I'm off. It will be a similar scene. I'm a little heavier. My bike is purple now. But, we will be enjoying our lion in the early morning light when we have a new fresh day ahead of us. Happy Wednesday! Wishing you all a "place of the lion"!
...beauty, and the wisdom of my lion in City Park carry me on those days here when it feels like everything is just too much. There are moments of calm. There are moments of settling in to comfortable again. It will come. It always does. Maybe it's time to make time to ride my bike into the park and visit my pal one morning this week. There, he will let me soak up his deep strength and wisdom once more.