Soar-Dream-France

Snail Lessons Learned

 

I've known ever since I bought the Chatette more than 20 years ago now, that I would have to do something about what I came to call the "addition." The addition had been separating from the Chatette even before I bought it.

 

It always looked to me like it had been slapped onto the house and didn't really fit.

 

 

Back in the early days of here, it was on my list of things that needed to be done, but was not at the top of the list. That was the list that began in 2002 and was thrown to the wind when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. The former friend/contractor who was working for me here, was also working on Columbus Street after the storm.

 

 

To make a very long story short, he walked off the job in New Orleans in 2007. 

 

 

Every time I looked at the addition, I was reminded of being left high and dry, friendship betrayal, and almost financial ruin.

It hurt too much.

The projected plans for the addition were set aside.

Since then, I avoided dealing with the addition at all. I used it for storage only.

 

 

 

 

 

In the meantime, it separated more and the roof was beginning to cave in.

By the end of 2019, it was serious. It had separated further, the roof caved in more and the floor was destablized.

It was dangerous.

 

 

 

You may be wondering what took me so long: my Dad passed; COVID hit; and, Hurricane Ida hit New Orleans. Any money I'd set aside for this from Mom and Dad, had gone to cover roof damage on Columbus Street during Ida and to paint Columbus Street. It took me finally selling Columbus Street during July of 2022, to have enough money to make these decisions and do some other work around here.

 

When the demolition began on Tuesday, I was a little weird.

 

 

It was such a long time in coming.

I knew the barn would be more visible.

But, there was no way to know just how truly "opened up" we would become.

By going back, we were going forward.

I was also letting go of the negative energy that swirled around this brick and mortar.

 

 

I was elated.

I knew we had done just the right thing.

I had paid attention to the communication with "our" place.

When I'm still in the silence, I listen and the stone speaks.

I've learned that even in the most heart wrenching and breaking times, the soul and magic of the centuries of this place never let me down.

 

 

Patience is required.

 

Constant Chaos

 

I honestly don't know where to start. I often hear: God doesn't give you more than you can bare; Don't be sad be mad; Don't get mad get even; It's just life; and, on and on. I'm even having trouble trying to choose photos for this post.

 

 

I also do NOT want to go on ad nauseum about the shape of life in the states and the layers of insanity that just keep piling on for everyone everywhere.

I have a list of the layers that on their own alone, would be enough to be considered a major crisis for most people.

Then, when you consider the overlay of the pandemic; everything is magnified an unknown number of "folds!"

Without going into detail, I had an experience this morning that hurt, but quickly moved me to the "anger" place and action!

 

 

Times are hard. Everyone is on edge. Think before you speak. Think before you write.

Pay attention to your own stuff and don't dump it on other people when the fact is...everyone is in crisis.

It appears that the infrastructure of life in the states is broken and unraveling before our very eyes.

 

 

Be kind. And as my sister tells me: be gentle with yourself!

 

 

PLEASE, Pay Attention!

 

A New Orleans Photo Homage

 

It's difficult to NOT be thinking about New Orleans today. With the impending arrival this evening of a projected Category 4 Hurricane, everyone has either evacuated or is waiting for Hurricane Ida. Oh, I have all the photos from the devastation of Katrina on Columbus Street and what it was like to live in her aftermath.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But today, I want to share some of my favorite photos from "my" hood which includes City Park and Bayou St. John.

 

 

I hope you'll enjoy them.

 

 

One of the things I learned quickly when I arrived in New Orleans during 1976 to go to graduate school (and stayed), was that people seem to either love New Orleans or hate it.

 

 

There is no in between!

That means, everyone there loves New Orleans.

At least, in my book!

 

 

Happy Sunday!

 

Someone Like Me

 

 

The craziness in the states these days leads me to reflection.

I share the collage above that includes some photos of mine and verbiage that my sister put together themed around: "Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans?"

Of course, it's a song, but was also the theme for one of the vernissages I had here in the barn. It was fun to have friends from New Orleans and elsewhere participate.

After Katrina, work crews came into New Orleans from all over the country.

 

 

With George W. Bush as President at the time, you may surmise where most of those work contracts were awarded.

 

 

On many occasions, I was told: "I didn't know 'people like you' lived in New Orleans!" 

 

 

At the time, I wondered what these men meant by that.

I came to the image of New Orleans as Bourbon Street, and maybe they didn't think that people lived here, worked here, and had lives here beyond Bourbon Street.

Today, upon further reflection, I've come to believe that by people like me, they meant white people.

At the time, that thought never crossed my mind.

 

 

It hurts my heart to even think that way. It's impossible to believe otherwise when I'm watching the white supremacist domestic terrorist groups attack our capitol and interfere in our election process, the voter suppression and election interference bills in so many states, and the blatant in your face dismantling of our democracy.

What did I miss back in 2005? Why didn't I ask them what they meant by that? Did I know what they meant at some gut level? Maybe I didn't want to hear the answer. Was I even paying attention? 

 

 

Even more, what can we do about it?

 

 

I am paying attention now.

 

 

I hope it's not too late.

 

Close to You

 

 

There are many things about here that I long to bring "close to you!" 

I've tried with the birds, bells, rainbows, morning sun rises, setting suns and moons galore. It's time for the roses. I find them irresistible, even in the rain.

On both of the trips I took to Monet's Giverny (one with Mom and one on my own), I learned a very important lesson.

Bring on the rain!

 

 

 

It made no difference that it was raining the whole time, both trips; it seemed the flowers and ponds were even more beautiful.

 

 

I'd say the same for my rose garden too!

 

 

Just like me, they long to be...

...close to you!

 

 

 

Happy Monday!

 

Seek and Ye Shall Not Always Find

 

This morning my old journals were calling me. I kept remembering that I promised to go through them for one of my chateau neighbors to see where I had written about their Mom who had passed shortly after I was here after Katrina. Since I'm expecting a visit, I thought it would be really nice if I could find something before our get together.

2006 and 2007 were the years I began to review, but ended up getting side-tracked with storm stories. The poignancy of retrospect and events since then, were a magnet.

 

 

I immersed in those  years for a bit, but never found what I wanted for my friend.

 

 

 

I plan to get back to the journals and find those passages and mementos that I know will mean to much and save them for their next visit.

 

 

Now, I'm on a double mission...mementos for them and resurrection and putting to rest for myself.

 

Happy Saturday!

 

Do You Have a Life?

 

I confess that prior to buying the Chatette in 2002 and coming to live here in 2006; I never really gave much thought to having or not having a life.

I'm sure the requirements for feeling like you have a life are different for each one of us.

 

Returning home to Cadrieu after the 2006 holidays, I do remember that I began consciously building a life for Dali, Sam and I in Cadrieu, France during 2007.Interestingly, every time I make a decision to come to France, others question my behavior and elements of this decision.

 

After Katrina, I had friends who told me I'd abandoned them and abandoned New Orleans and we were no longer friends.

 

As I was trying to decide about staying put in the states or returning home to France as planned during this pandemic, that hurt and horror of those times reared their ugly heads again. Call it deja vu or even PTSD; I was concerned and talked about it with friends and family. Everyone said go. As I told people after Katrina:

I refuse to apologize to anyone for taking care of myself.

 

Someone in my family recently mentioned that a friend wondered how I was, now that I was back in France? At first it seemed like a sweet care and concern, but those old feelings returned. The response of my family member said it all:

"Laury, has a life in France!"

 

It's true.

I am home.

I have a life in Cadrieu.

Happy Saturday!

 

DANGER: Overshadowed, Overlooked or Ignored

 

Fifteen years ago now, Dali and I were in St. Louis. Tom and Adrianne had already evacuated north with Dali, because I was in Cadrieu when Katrina hit. I flew back mid-September. In this shot, Tom and Adrianne were getting ready to head back to New Orleans since their zip code had been cleared to be safe to return to the City. This was October.

This was the first time in my life, at 51 years old, when I personally experienced that our government does NOT care about "all" of us.

Today, it would be "any" of us.

 

 

 

Already then red vs. blue states, and always, the color of your skin; impacted the quality of help you got, if you got any at all. 

I then watched in Ferguson in 2014. The Missouri National Guard was NOT sent to protect Ferguson and Dellwood shops and businesses, but were instead at the County Government Offices in Clayton-with nothing to do there except stand around and be ready to protect all those rich, white people, even though they were needed badly elsewhere!

Ferguson and Dellwood

were burning!

 

 

All of this, while law enforcement vehicles were lined up on Elizabeth Avenue in front of our family home AND low flying choppers were hovering overhead and beaming search lights everywhere!

And, here we are today with a very active hurricane season that has already decimated Lake Charles and now we have Hurricane Sally shooting straight for New Orleans.

There are "climate change fires" all up and down the length of the California coast and now Oregon.

 

Not to mention, the Corona Virus that has been left unchecked by this federal administration to rapidly engulf the United States.

 

 

The University of Washington now projects that we will reach 400,000 deaths by January 1, 2021.

That means between now and then, we will have doubled the number of Americans who have died.

These are individual souls. What about their families? What about their friends? What number would you multiply that 400,000 by-4, 10, 25, or more? 

STOP!-PLEASE!

Wake up!

Pay Attention!

 

 

Think back to all that has happened and ask yourself: 

 

Is the cavalry coming? 

 

Let's face it: we are on our own!

 

40 Years HOME-Columbus Street

 

 

With so much going on in the world at the moment,I have to work very hard to hang on to some of the things that are important to me so that they don't get lost in the shuffle of this pandemic. I missed the 18-year anniversary of the Chatette back in February-2/22/2002.

Joan was here and we were in the throws of Mardi Gras. You'd have thought having her here and our friendship from there during those times, would have made me remember again. No, I didn't remember until way after the fact.

 

 

Interestingly, the night I returned from France in December both hit me while I was here in bed. May 2020 would be the 40 year anniversary of me living on Columbus Street and February 2020 would be 18 years for me and the Chatette.

 

 

I bought Columbus Street during May of 1980 and am still amazed to realize that it has been that long.

That year, my Nannie lent me $15,000 so that I could assume the mortgage on this house. Nannie passed away during September of that year, so the loan became a gift since it would have been my inheritance.

That Nannie and Papa-my piano...Columbus Street...and, indirectly, the Chatette too, all came to me because of them.

Until Hurricane Katrina, Columbus Street always felt like a good thing in my life.

 

 

 

It was because Columbus Street was almost paid off in 2001, that I was able to pay it off and then take out a new mortgage that would be in dollars to buy our Cadrieu Chatette.

I tease, but it's true. Everything in France is mine free and clear, but Columbus Street still has the mortgage on it.

Any way you slice it, Columbus Street has always been a good idea and really has given me so much, even though there have been times when I couldn't see it.

 

 

 

"Free to a Good Home!"

 

That's what made it all so hard after the storm. I couldn't be here. The heart of the house had flooded and everything was sad, horrendous and overwhelming. The house has never been the same for a lot of reasons that I won't go into now. I can honestly say, that being here during the pandemic has made me feel like I am finally recapturing this home and this place that has always meant so much to me. Too often, I hurt just to be here. Now, it feels good and I see myself thinking about things here and there in whole new ways.

 

 

It's a strange life. It seems that my lives are coming closer together. I'm learning to take it all as it comes and pay attention to all my feeling in the moment. I have no idea where this will all end up, but I'm grateful that I still have Columbus Street. I have a place I know and love and am finally comfortable in again.

 

Our Gaynell Williams-Waving! With us in spirit!

 

40 years! Wow! A HUGE MERCI to Columbus Street-Happy 40th Anniversary-Love, Laury

 

Last One Standing

 

For those of us who are aging and are still fortunate enough to have one or both of our parents still with us, I find that a close relationship can get even closer. Although Mom passed in 2016, Dad is still with us.

I may be in France, but my daily morning conversations (his morning my afternoon) with my Dad in St. Louis have brought us even closer than we were when I was growing up.

We talk about health. We talk about loss. We talk about how much we love each other. We talk about times when Mom visits.

We've also talked about what it feels like to be "the last one standing!"

 

Of course, Dad has experienced it more than I have. 

 

 

Earlier this year when my friend Gaynell passed away, I was walking up the steps thinking about our time together. We became even closer during Hurricane Katrina.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All of Gaynell's dogs were gone.

 

 

 

Sammie Cat and Dali were gone. Vann was gone, and now so was Gaynell. I realized that I was the only one left of these loved ones who gave me so much. I actually said outloud:

 

It's just me.

 

 

It was a strange feeling to feel for the first time. It is something that each and every one of us face as we age. I miss my gang now, but I wouldn't trade a moment that we shared. I'm glad I could talk about it with Dad. It is still a:

 

Happy Friday!