Soar-Dream-France

Me and Thomas Wolfe

 

Back when Dali, Sammie Cat and I came here to clear our heads after Hurricane Katrina so I could make some difficult decisions; I read Thomas Wolfe's "Look Homeward Angel" for the very first time. The meaning of "home" had escaped me living in my flood ravaged house on Columbus Street.

 

 

 

 

 

My Dad said:

"Go to France, Laury."

 

We did.

 

I still struggled with home.

By Christmas of 2006 the decision had been made.

I was in France. Columbus Street was being repaired so I could rent it out and be able to live here in Cadrieu with my Dali Dog and Sammie Cat.

Of course, it wasn't that easy.

As I was reading Thomas Wolfe, he spoke to me.

Fogs cleared. I didn't struggle so much.

 

 

But when I did, I'd found something wonderful that helped me. I won't make you look for it yourself. I'll put Wolfe's last page, last paragraph, right here for you:

 

--Yet, as he stood for the last time by the angels of his father's porch, it seemed as if the Square already were far and lost; or I should say, he was like a man who stands upon a hill above the town he has left, yet does not say "The town is near," but turns his eyes upon the distant soaring ranges.--

THE END

 

When I did struggle, I'd often picture myself upon a high place above a place I'd just left; holding Thomas Wolfe's hand.

Visualizing was usually enough.

But when it wasn't, I had more than enough high, beautiful places to go.

 

 

High or low, holding Thomas's hand or not; the Lot always brought me home.

 

Never to Have Known This...

 

Journaling on the terrace this morning, my heart and mind drifted to feelings and thoughts of Mike (as they frequently do these days). Sometimes I feel his presence carried in on a breeze or a whisper of the leaves on the trees. Others, it's a butterfly who comes to rest beside me and stays much longer than usual. One morning, it was a big red fox who locked eyes with me until I said hello to him. Maybe I should have said "bonjour!"

 

This morning I was thinking about Mike and (not unlike Mom and Dad) how he was never able to see this place in person while he walked this earth. I have teased, but it's true; many people who I love dearly have never seen this place. At least not until they've crossed over. They do visit me here.

The magic of this place makes it even easier to feel them than usual.

This train took me to, what would it be like in my life, never to have known this place?

 

 

That train had another stop to make. What would my life have been like had I never known Mike?

It reminded me of the early 90's when I began to volunteer with the then NO/AIDS Task Force in New Orleans. There was a particularly difficult stretch where everyone was dying. I wasn't sure if I could take the layers of loss anymore. I thought about quitting. I asked myself if I was willing to not know the people at all?  It was then that I realized, I wouldn't trade knowing all the wonderful people I'd come to know and love for a million dollars. I stayed.

 

 

It's hard for me to answer both questions. First, this place is so much of a part of who I am. I wonder if my friends and family who have been here could answer it any easier for me?

 

 

Secondly, Mike quickly made himself an indispensable part of my life. Although we'd been friends on FB for a while through my friendship with John, I'd never met Mike face to face until the night of our International Overalls Party on Columbus Street that November of 2013. John and Mike brought Glenn and Bill with them.

As everyone was leaving at the end of the evening, Mike said I needed to come over and have dinner at their home "Mahogany Oaks" in Covington.

 

 

 

I explained the no car and Mike didn't miss a beat..."John is here for work every day, he can just pick you up and bring you over with him on his way home."

In no time, I was sleeping over at Mahogany Oaks.

One night with a morning departure turned into two with a full day in between, and sometimes Sammie cat would join us.

Even though there is so much more I could share, let's just say that the invite was the start of something big for all of us!

It still is!

 

With the sale of Columbus and Mike's passing, it's difficult not to feel the holes left behind.

 

 

 

But I can see, those spirits and memories will live on in new and different ways.

 

 

Happy Thursday!

 

Nice Neat Little Packages

 

I've come to learn that wrapping anything up in nice neat little packages is close to impossible. Life just doesn't seem to work that way these days. Spinning plates, swirling puzzle pieces, dangling dances, and sometimes just plain hovering in place; are the best we can hope for. I do my best to cope during these times of uncertainty and make the best of the often times too much and overwhelming.

Let's face it, having property on two different continents adds to all of the above.

That is all about to change.

 

 

Columbus Street has sold and we will be going to the final Act of Sale on Friday, July 15.

 

 

I honestly consider myself more of a places person than a people person. Places and often inanimate things take on a life of their own. A former boss called me the Metaphor Queen-I'd add the Queen of Personification. Another dear friend observed that I was a "nester." As I wrote this post today, I remembered that when I left Columbus Street on April 28, I said good by to Columbus Street. It was difficult. Forty-two years in a place is a long time. 

 

 

I may have to adjust my places/people observation. This time around it was the people that were the most difficult for me. Mostly, because my dear friends and chosen family, Mike and John are going through a major health crisis. Leaving them after I spent the night that Friday before I headed north on I-55, was heart-wrenching. I spent that Saturday night at the home of our mutual friends, Glenn and Bill. There, the reality became even clearer than when I was at Mahogany Oaks...I said good by to Mike and will probably never see him again on this earth.

There is no way to know what's ahead, but I do know that I am planted here in Cadrieu. I know I can always go back to the states to visit family and friends, but who knows what will happen between now and then, and who may have crossed over before I make it back again for another hello.

I know I will do my best to take it as it comes. I believe that my life is going to settle in to being able to be 200% here in ways that I have never been able to do before. Time will tell. It feels much more like a new book than a new chapter.

 

Happy Saturday today, facing huge change.

 

The Window on the Lot-A Gift for Dorian-#1

 

 

In the midst of the move, there were many special moments. Sitting in the living room on Columbus Street with my friend Dorian; I asked him if there was anything he wanted? He surprised me when he said: "You choose something that makes you think of our friendship!" I ended up giving him a long-vertical angel poster and a professional photo of myself that had been taken eons ago and given to my parents.

 

 

As we talked more. I remembered that the first time I met Dorian was when he came to the opening of my "Window on the Lot" photo exhibit at a friend's coffee shop near the corner of Canal and Carrollton  It was a few years before I purchased the Chatette.

 

Then, the perfect gift hit me.

I could have given him a set of photos and the essay I'd written to accompany them from the night of the exhibit. The only thing was that I had to wait till my return.

So, voila...over some of the next days, I will share the photos and accompanying words with you and as my real "gift" to Dorian from that May we met in the late 90's.

Here's a little tease to get us started:

 

 

WINDOW ON THE LOT-(La Fenetre sur le Lot)

Laury Bourgeois, Fall 1997

 

I used to think I was a city girl. I've always loved Paris. I have seen it in all seasons. I know that there is color there, but the Paris of my heart is a series of Robert Doisneau photographs set to the tune of La Vie en Rose. The lovers were always in love. They always kissed and touched. Life and love survived in a simpler time. My eyes chose to see and my heart chose to feel only the blacks and whites and shades of gray. I was once told you could find your heart in Paris. I did. It led me to my soul-le Lot. When I think of le Lot, I see only color. I can't remember a color so crisp or a life so alive as that which I first saw standing in  front of my window on le Lot. The sky was clear. The air smelled fresh and the sun always shown in my mind's eye.

 

Stand with me in front of my window on le Lot-Happy Friday!

 

A Last Day Magical Moment

 

On my last day on Columbus Street as I'd emptied out everything except the piano, one of my neighbors said he knew someone who would want it. He mentioned Doreen Ketchens. He plays drums for her. I told him I was a huge fan of hers, but the piano was a wreck. Many of the keys sounded like crashing plywood on concrete and the sound board was cracked. Of course, our "Violette" had quite a history and story all her own since she'd been my childhood piano. Some day, I'll share more of our story. 

 

 

 

Even so, Bootsie got Doreen on the phone and handed it off to me.

I told her who I was and that I was a huge fan. I told her about the piano and was honest.

I added: "As much as I would love knowing that my childhood piano was living with you, I can't in good conscience recommend it...

...I know what kind of shape it has been in ever since it sat in water after Hurricane Karina!"

 

 

She appreciated my honesty, and basically said that her husband had admonished her about taking it since she already had one that was in the same shape. We giggled a bit and I knew this was going to be one of the highlights of this trip.

I have this favorite photo above that I scooped when Doreen and the band were on the corner of Royal and St. Peter playing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow!"

I'd stopped to listen.

 

 

I cried. I left my tip. And then, I wandered through Jackson Square over to the Napoleon House where I was meeting a friend from graduate school. When I got home later that day and saw that top shot of her...it was better than anything I could have hoped for.

 

 

What a story of "stuff!" There are so many from this trip that are laden with so much meaning that I may share them with you over time.

 

Happy Tuesday!

 

Processing Through

 

It was Downtown Super Sunday in New Orleans.

Even though I usually catch the Downtown Mardi Gras Indians at Bayou St. John before they really get rolling; I knew that they would be passing by my corner of Broad and Columbus Street too. 

 

 

It was also the last day of the three days of what I've come to call: The Great Columbus Street Give Away! I'd planned to park myself on Columbus Street for those three days. People would know I was there and they could stop by to visit, or come by and grab a few treasures.

 

 

 

 

As a strategy, it worked well. I could keep working at my own pace, stop when people came, or just stop when I'd had enough and needed a little break.

I knew I had a lot of stuff, but really hadn't counted on quite so much paper! 

 

 

 

 

 

As busy as I was, there was very little time to think and feel anything other than whatever was right in front of my face.

 

 

 

 

This particular day, I took a break and wandered out into the backyard with my iced tea, cookies and book and just hung out. It felt good to stop. It felt good to enjoy the brand spanking new paint job on the house and it even felt good as all the memories washed over me.

I had a solitary orchid flower blooming.

 

 

 

Other flowers were beginning. The paint job was perfect and just a bit enticing.

I kept thinking how beautiful we looked, and had a moment of maybe I should just continue to split my time and go back and forth between Columbus Street and Cadrieu. I surprised myself. But, I also realized that it was part of the process I had to go through after the 42 years of "us!" 

I heard the police sirens, drums, and music, and knew the parade wasn't to far away.

 

 

 

I went in to put my stuff down and wander the half a block down to Broad Street to watch a bit and come back home to "continue!" 

Little did I know that when I opened the door, Dorian would be almost to my porch to visit.

His arrival changed the course of that day.

So much stuff. So many stories. So many memories, and so many wonderful shared experiences.

 

 

 

Happy Tuesday!

 

Sometimes You Have To Be There

 

As soon as I arrived on Columbus Street on the night of March 15, I hit the ground running. On top of the house, I had many other chores, tasks, errands, and other what-evers to complete. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Even so, in the few quiet, alone moments there was time for reflections, epiphanies, and tears.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading from the sofa one day during a "stuff break," I burst into tears in a sad part of my novel. I chided myself, and questioned what was I really crying about? I screamed to no one, maybe just between me and my house: "this  place holds 42 years of my life!" That's a long time, especially by today's standards.

 

 

Then, I got a call from an old friend who lives in Colorado now. We'd worked together at the Sheriff's Office and remained close, even though we don't see much of each other and mostly do birthday cards these days.

She told me that she was sad too.

It wasn't till we spoke, that I realized there were so many others who had experienced "us!"

I remembered how she used to tease me that her husband loved coming to parties at my house because: "it was like a different Fellini movie every time!" 

 

We hosted so much on Columbus Street.

There were: parties, dinners, coffees, brunches, lunches, Jazz Fests, Mardi Gras, funerals for friends, workshops, and on and on. 

The richness of our life together can't be denied or forgotten.

As one of my friends texted recently, it will always be "Laury's House" whenever I drive by.

And remember, Columbus Street gave me the Chatette and Cadrieu!

 

 

As if you can't tell, places are important to me. I believe they live and breathe and we have a relationship and a flow together.

 

 

 

They speak to me.

Happy Saturday!

 

Life Rhythms

 

Sitting at my table again this morning from Cadrieu, I am reflecting. Reflecting is a luxury that was not afforded me during the last six weeks of run, do, blinders, react and respond in the moment. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How wonderful to be able to look back and reflect on the whole twenty years of here AND look ahead.

I've learned many lessons along the way.

 

 

At times, the largest lessons seem to be those I learned during the pandemic times of here. It may be because those times changed our world in a really big way that requires all of us to regroup. I am regrouping. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is a rhythm to all of our lives. Throughout mine, I didn't always pay attention to it or even acknowledge that it was there. I tried to construct, make, and force routines that I was comfortable with, but didn't always work for me. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since this is my "new book," I've decided that the best thing I can do is to allow the rhythm to flow naturally. I have a bad habit of boxing myself in to the point where I don't have that freedom of flow.

 

 

 

I don't want to: run against the ocean waves; swim against the river current; and, not be present in my own life. I want to finely tune my senses to the rhythm's flow and immerse myself in the power that brings.

 

 

The new book begins.

 

 

Happy Tuesday!

 

Already Missing Lola

 

These two sweeties, Mozart and Annie, are now living with their two Dads, Steve and Carl. "Co-parenting" these two with Steve while I was in New Orleans as the pandemic unfolded was the best. Steve knows me well.

He knew how much I Ioved having my 4-legged children over the years, so he suggested that since he was hoping to get a cat eventually, we could co-parent and then the cat would go to live with him when I returned to Cadrieu.

 

 

When I saw these two, my Ollie and Opie (Les Deux Freres) former foster boys heartstrings were pulled. Since these two had been left at a bin together, I decided to take both and Steve and I managed. As it turned out, they are both now living with Steve and Carl. I will be forever grateful that it worked out as it did.

March 15 is not that far away. I will be stateside, mostly in New Orleans. What will I do without Lola for 6 weeks?

 

 

 

She's probably going to be having the time of her life with her Auntie Pam during that time. Pam is coming up from Toulouse to pet-sit with her at the Chatette. As much as I will miss her, I know that she is in expert, professional hands AND there is no way I would put either of us through the stress and expense of the travel world these days.

 

 

Happy Monday!

 

Happy International Overalls Weekend 2021

 

This year, I've been a tardy girl for International Overalls Weekend.

To be honest, I'm always confused over whether it is the weekend before or after Thanksgiving.

I should know better by now! 

 

 

That opening photo says it all!

It was overalls, wood back in the meter long log days of 2009, cold November, and did an Irish Coffee and Cookies Overalls party here at the Chatette.

It was certainly memorable for me.

 

I found out how much other friends enjoyed it when we were having lunch after the village clean-up!

I do have some great photos and found myself wondering if I could pull another one off.

Maybe next year or the year after...

 

...for now, we're all doing a lot of living on memories.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here's hoping you'll enjoy some of mine to celebrate!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy International Overall Weekend!