DAY TWO NOLA

We slept with the windows open and wake to the sounds of the St. Charles Trolley passing. Today we will find the Indians.

We walked a couple of blocks from the hotel and had coffee and a bagel. Looked at our maps and decided the game plan. Last year we saw the Downtown Indians, this year we will try to see the Uptown Indians. The newspaper says both will be parading, but time and location details are sketchy.

We headed to Bayou St. John around 10:45. It’s only about a 10 minute drive and we arrive at the corner of Toulouse and Hagen Avenue. Home of the Parkway Bakery and Tavern. They open at 11. Perfect timing. We order two double Bloody Marys to go, you can do that in NOLA. These drinks are really good. Just the right amount of heat, olives and pickled string beans. Perfect. So, with Bloody Mary’s in hand we walk across the street to Bayou St. John. We don’t see any Indians or crowds of people, but it is a little early and we are not worried. Walking down the Bayou, people are kayaking, walking their dogs and just enjoying a beautiful morning.
We sit for a minute and a car stops and asks us “if we are waiting on the Indians’. We said yes and they said they were too, but saw no signs of them around and that they were going to head downtown to catch the other group. We decided the same thing.

We get in the car and drive across town - takes only a few minutes. Park in the same place we did last year. People are gathering. You can just feel something is happening.

Bought a beer at the neighborhood convenient store and started walking up the street. At one of the main intersections, lots of folks are gathering, pickup trucks selling food and drinks from the back. There is a Full bar of liquor in a green pick up truck.
















Can’t pass that up. Two shots of tequila and a couple of beers. We are just walking around looking at the sites and Stacey has to go to the bathroom. This neighborhood doesn’t have gas stations with bathrooms or port o lets for that matter. I tell her to follow me and that she’s gonna have to go behind a building. It’s Sunday and we are walking around the block and there is a small Community Church. Some members are sweeping and getting ready for services. I ask them if my wife can use their bathroom. They are very nice and let her. God bless them.

Back to the main intersection, another round of tequila and the Indians have started to arrive. Some are already in costumes, others are getting dressed. It is a family affair. The Chief, the scouts and spy boys. The colors are incredible.
















So we walk a few blocks with the Indians as more and more show up. The crowd is much larger then last year and there are a lot more Indians. One group of Indians decide to go a different route so we follow. Straight down the street, block after block making lots of noise. House after house folks come to the front porch to check them out. We spend about an hour or two walking with the Indians and decide we have had enough. We need food.

It’s a long way back to the car. We go looking for something to eat. We come across a little corner store with a sign that only says “FOOD”. That’s what we want so we stop and get more fried chicken, red beans and rice and biscuits. It was good food, but not as good and Man Chu.
Back to the room to eat as none of these hole in the wall joints have a place to sit and eat. We have a suite so it’s no problem. We eat and lay down for a minute thinking about a nap, but soon we realize we are in NOLA and not to sleep. We can sleep when we’re dead.

So Stacey put’s on a pretty purple dress and we head to the French Quarter. Sure the Quarter is all about tourism, but if you know where to go you can drink cheap and with the locals. We go to The Chart Room. Last year, our friend Harold took us to the Chart Room and we decided to go back. It’s a small hole in the wall bar with good music on the juke box and cheap drinks. The bartender, Will, is funny as hell. It’s not what he says so much as in his action. He tries to wait on three people at one time, while making drinks for another person. He fills all the drinks to the very top of the glasses and liquor spills out all over. He likes to toss mixing tools in the air, but doesn’t catch half of them. If he doesn’t like some song that people have selected from the juke box he turns down the volume and takes a vote of people that want to continue listening to a song. Says it’s a democracy and then selects another song. Funny. Some tourist from England start to leave and don’t tip. Well, Will the bartender follows them out to the street yelling at them the whole time “limey bastards don’t come back”. As Will takes his place behind the bar again he explains how he did that for all the other bartenders in the Quarter. He says where he used to tend bar he couldn’t do that, I think he’s getting even.

I met this guy that came and sat next to us at the bar. His name was Chris. Sometimes you meet someone and talk to them and it makes you feel like you missed out on something. When some guy sitting next to you at the bar tells you he quit his job as an architect, left Nashville and came to NOLA and helps run a soup kitchen it makes you think. It reminds of you how tied down you are to job’s and bills and house payments and such. Chris said he thought he would do a couple weeks at a soup kitchen, five months later he is still there and I run into him Sunday night, his only night off.

Well we need food again. The drinks are good, cold and cheap, but we need food. We had read about a new place, Cafe Adelaide and the Swizzle Stick Bar. It is one of Ti Brennan’s restaurants. She of the famous Brennan restaurant family. It is named after her mother and is in some big, fancy hotel. It’s a real shinny place and when we saw it we thought we had made a bad call. But, we took a seat at the bar which was empty and looked around the restaurant, which was empty and spoke with the bartender who seemed empty and we were sure we had made a mistake. So we thought one drink, a quick look at the menu and we were out of there. Well the menu looked great and we found out the bartender, a native of NOLA, was moving to Wisconsin soon. No wonder he was in a bad mood. Anyway we ate, boy did we eat. Check this out.
We had a Corn Dog. Well that’s what they called it. It was a large Shrimp wrapped in Tasso, skewered and deep fried. Served with Asian sauce. It was awesome.

Then we had Oysters Benville. Well that’s what they called it. It was fried oysters on a couple slices of french bread smothered in a creamy spinach sauce. It was awesome. Then we had Gumbo, well that’s what they called it and that’s what it was and it was awesome. Then we had Biscuits and Gravy. Well that’s what called it. It was a cat head biscuit split open with andouille sausage smothered with Foie gras gravy and it was awesome. We then had Shrimp Curry and it was okay, not as good as the other dishes, but it didn’t suck. Then I went to the kitchen and applauded the kitchen crew. They liked that I think. There were only three of them and the chef had been carrying the food out to the bar himself. He told me they had sent all the help home cause it was so slow. I guess the word was not out yet cause this was very good food.

Then we went back to the hotel and went to bed.

Amen.

NEW ORLEANS DAY ONE

We’ve come to see the Indians, but don’t think I haven’t been thinking about food for the last two weeks.

We thought about renting bicycles for this trip, but in the end went with a car rental. First place we hit is Tujague’s. Tujague’s is the second oldest restaurant in New Orleans. It sits at the corner of Decatur and Madison, in the French Quarter. I have been to Tujauge’s before, but it’s been 25 years. I had been reading about it and we put it first on the list, cause that’s what ya do when you first get to New Orleans, ya get a Bloody Mary. The bar was beautiful nothing else but time and cigarette smoke can make a place look like that. Tujauge’s was not crowded at 11 a.m. which was nice, but they didn’t do lunch and the drinks we’re only ok, so after two and one to go we set out looking for a photo exhibition and tacos.

We found the Taco joint and it was closed so we went instead to the photo exhibit.

I had read about a Micheal P Smith exhibit at The Historic New Orleans Collection. Click on them and read all about this awesome show. They do good work. Michael P. Smith was a photographer and also helped start the music hall Tipitina’s. He documented New Orleans from the inside. The exhibit was broken down into different parts with titles like Spirit world, Rhythms of the street, Jazz funerals, Mardi Gras Indians and Tipitina’s and Musicians. It was a beautiful show and most all the photos were in black and white, fitting for New Orleans.

So we left the photo exhibit and came across the Royal House. It is an oyster bar and just what we needed. It’s a nice place, not a hole in the wall which I prefer when in NOLA, but we bellied up to the bar and ordered a couple Bloody Marys and a dozen raw oysters. The oysters came fast and there were 14 of them, the drinks were a little slower. So we ate and drank all that and ordered another round. Again 14 oysters and two Bloody Marys. But, don’t think we were just wasting our time with oysters and “just ok” Bloody Marys. No, we were talking to the guy shucking our oysters, we were talking Fried Chicken. We ask his favorite spot for fried chicken and before he could answer we offered up what we had read about. He agreed they we all good, but he said his favorite was a place his daughter always wanted to go to. Some little gas station turned food store that served all kinds of fried food. Blue building he told us, on the corner of Esplanade and Claiborne.

So we paid our tab and found our car and sure enough it was on Esplanade, so we flipped a “U” and found Claiborne Ave. There it was, Gas Station, serving nothing but fried food and cold drinks. The place was really busy, people were everywhere. Ordering food, selling cd’s and stuff from the trunk of their car. We ordered 25 fried wings and right away they were passed through the window of bullet proof glass. We get in the car and start eating, damn they were hot and good. So we headed back to our hotel, stopped and got a six pack of Abita beer, checked in and ate everyone of those wings. That was good fried chicken and just what I had been wanting for a while. I always want fried chicken, I love it.

We then did what anyone would do at this point, we opened all the windows in the hotel room and there were a lot of windows as we had a 2 room corner suite on the fifth floor. We opened all the windows and got in our king sized bed and slept for two hours.

When we woke it was dark and we did what anyone would do at this point, we went looking for more food and drink.

Now, you might be saying to yourself, enough with the food and drink, but this is New Orleans and you just can’t get this stuff anywhere else in the world. Local oysters, 150 year old bars, fried chicken from the corner gas station. If ya can get it somewhere else then you not in New Orleans and that’s the difference.

So we set out for a new place, Butcher. Butcher and the Swine Bar is the latest effort from Chef Donald Link. He already has Herbsaint and Cochon under his belt and now Butcher. Just around the corner from Cochon, in the warehouse district, we find a brightly lite space with lot’s of white tiles. Butcher serves house made Salumi, all pork sausages. 18 different kinds of sausage, house cured for your pleasure. Butcher also makes it’s own mustard, two kinds, and they pickle their own veggies. You get the idea. They procures their cheese from the local cheese monger. This is serious stuff and very good. We have a plate each of meat and cheese, with house made mustard’s and house made crackers. I’m trying different beers and Stacey is trying different white wines. After we consume those two plates we order a sample of the Pate and the two different rillettes. One is duck and one is pork. When the chef serves them she tells us she added a little hogs head cheese ’cause it is “so good”. This is a beautiful plate of food and all so good, just like chef said. Only problem was after a day of eating we could not quite finish it all, we tried but just couldn’t.

I was ashamed and told the chef so.

STOP THE MADNESS

The have taken most all funds for the art’s away and now they want to take away the dollars to develop green space. Read below and send a email to one of the names at the end of the article. Speak up and help save a job and a park.

Flordia Department of Environmental Protection - Office of Greenways and Trails

Florida residents: Florida’s nationally renowned trails program threatened. Act now!
The Florida Department of Environmental Protection recently announced cuts to the state’s Office of Greenways and Trails, effectively eliminating this nationally renowned program. Speak up now for Florida’s trails!

Speak up for Florida’s Office of Greenways and Trails
During a Senate General Government Appropriations Committee meeting on Thursday, March 19, 2009, the Florida Department of Environmental Protection (FDEP) announced devastating cuts to Florida’s nationally renowned Office of Greenways and Trails (OGT). While other FDEP programs are being cut 20 percent, this proposal would:

* slash 33 percent from OGT’s budget;
* cripple citizen input by killing the Greenways and Trails Council, and;
* eliminate 84 percent of the OGT Tallahassee Office staff.

In addition to rolling back the pro-trail clock by at least 10 years, this measure will threaten nearly $50 million of hard-earned development money for Florida’s future trails by eliminating the positions that are responsible for administering these funds. This timing could not be worse; on-the-ground activity is ramping up to create green infrastructure and jobs associated with economic stimulus projects. The negative ramifications of this cut are far-reaching.

Please speak out against this injustice below. In the March 19 meeting, the public was only allowed 45 seconds of public testimony. Trails and greenways supporters deserve more than 45 seconds to make their voices heard.

If you are not a resident of Florida, you cannot use the OGT link - however , I did copy the “standard email” from the site and sent direct to email address of Legislature.

I am asking for you to show support for the Florida Deparment of Environmental Protection - Office of Greenways and Trails.

Suggested email addresses -
Governor Crist Charlie.Crist@myflorida.com
Lt. Governor Jeff Kottkamp, Jeff.Kottkamp@MyFlorida.com
Bob Ballard, Dep Sec, DEP, Land and Recreation bob.g.ballard@dep.state.fl.us
Secretary Michael Sole, FDEP, Michael.Sole@dep.state.fl.us
Senator Carey Baker, Appropriations, baker.carey.web@flsenate.gov

SUBJECT - Support the Office of Greenways and Trails

Sirs,

Please move quickly to save the nation’s best state trails program and, with it, $50 million of future trail development funding.

These attacks will roll back the trail progress clock by at least a decade, reduce citizen input and abolish our nationally recognized state trails legislation.

Not only will valuable staff resources be lost, but this risks trail development funding and green infrastructure jobs at a time when our state needs them most.

This month began as one of celebration, with the Governor’s Office declaring March as Florida Bicycle Month and ended with the FDEP proposing the

abolishment of the very services that make Florida a nationally renowned bicycling state. Please save Florida trails by making fair and measured

reductions that don’t single out the Office of Greenways and Trails!

FROM SUNDAY NEW YORK TIMES

Article Tools Sponsored By
By SAM SIFTON
Published: March 17, 2009

The restaurateur Lou Amdur was leaning over his bar the other day at Lou, in Hollywood, uncorking some biodynamic deliciousness made in a French garage and talking about a few of the experiments he had going in his home up in the hills. Some weirdly flavored vinegars. Absinthe. House-cured bacon in the kitchen of the wine bar, a few pots of pork rillettes. It all sounded complicated and fantastic — a portrait of a food artist at work. Amdur shook his head. “None of this is art,” he said. “It’s craft. And craft isn’t all that hard. You can learn to do it.”
Skip to next paragraph
Related
Recipes: Fish Tacos (March 22, 2009)
Zachary Zavislak for The New York Times. Plate and white bowl: Global Table.

He was being modest. Amdur is a talented cook, in addition to being a wine guy of the first order (and the husband of Manohla Dargis, a chief film critic of The Times). But he was not wrong. As he went on to say, art is to craft as brain surgery is to a butcher’s work. Art is genius, or magic. Craft is observation and research multiplied by practice. It’s learnable by anyone.

Put another way, in the context of this space: you can learn to cook fish at home, if you ask the right people how to do it.

Dave Pasternack is the right people. He is the chef and an owner of Esca, in the theater district of Manhattan. He has an affinity for cooking fish that approaches the surreal. You might give him a barnacle, a grouper liver and three grains of sea salt, only to have him return to your side with a plate of food good enough to make you laugh out loud. His skill is that of an alchemist, or a magician. But unlike such characters, Pasternack also knows how to teach technique. The success of his restaurant is dependent on that ability. If a piece of monkfish is ethereal when he makes it for the lunchtime rush, it better be when the young cook he hired makes it at dinner, too. That’s how restaurants work. Consistency matters. It’s the most important thing. And it can be taught.

Today’s sermon is a recipe for fish tacos, that great meal of the Baja Peninsula, a taste of summer in spring. It benefits from time spent at Pasternack’s elbow, from the tacos served at, among other places, El Siete Mares taco stand on the eastern end of Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles and from practice runs in a Brooklyn home kitchen. They are simple to make, no more complicated in fact than a hamburger or a mess of pancakes, and they are considerably more flavorful.

Really. Here is the Sunday exhortation: You’re going to make fish at home, it’s going to be easy and it’s not going to take up your day or destroy your kitchen. The recipe is going to work. Trust the process. That’s Pasternack Rule No. 1. You’ve got to get over the fear.

“The first thing you want to do,” he said in the kitchen after lunch, “is you want to find a thick fillet of fish. You want a nice, thick fillet so you can develop the color and the crust.” Pasternack speaks in a soft Long Island bark that turns any conversation into an intimacy, a prelude to something possibly criminal and certainly fun. “Ask for the large,” he continued. “They have large in the back. They always do.”

What kind of fish in particular? For tacos, something fresh and white and firm. Emphasis on the fresh. Out in the cold waters off Montauk, the cod bite is on and the flatties are coming soon: big doormat flounder caught on hooks and line. Montauk snowshoes, they call these monsters, and if you see them in the market, it’s time to make tacos. That’s Pasternack Rule No. 2: Buying the fish is half the battle.

Rule No 3: Crust is crucial. You want, at home, a fish taco that has the crunch and texture of the deep-fried version available at the beach in Ensenada, though with better flavor and less mess.

Let us return, then, to our thick fillet, now dredged in seasoned flour. Pasternack, as if talking to a dishwasher out of Puebla he has just promoted to a job in front of a stove: “You want to make sure the bottom of your pan is completely covered in fat. It’s on a medium flame. You add a pat of butter for flavor, and you put the fillet in the pan. You turn it to medium high, and you watch it cook until it turns a deep golden brown on the bottom. That’s like three, four minutes. Then you turn it. A minute later, you take it out, put it on paper towels, season it with a little salt.”

This works, and how. You could do it with cod or char, and kings would cross mountains to honor you. But with flounder the goals are more modest. Fried in strips and served onboard warm corn tortillas with a simple salsa, a pinch of fresh cabbage, plenty of lime and a cream sauce you might want to punch up with some chopped chipotle, these fish tacos can turn a cold March night into bluebird summer, transporting you from spring chill into deep humidity and bliss.

Some of the sights of NOLA 3/22/09

Blog Stew

Yesterday was the last full day of winter and it was 75 degrees today.
Also, remember, when you die your not gonna say “wow, I wish I would have spent more time working”. So ……….

Saturday I’m going to New Orleans and I know it’s gonna be hot. I’m taking nothing but white cloths. I’m taking white linen pants, over sized white cotton shirts, white “v” neck tee shirts and white buck shoes. I don’t wear hats much, else I’d find a nice white hat to sport.

Tonight Stacey and I are going to a fund raiser for the ISAW/UAPO foundations. Click on it to learn more about it. There will be a auction and a dinner. I donated this painting to the auction.

How’s ya Brackets

March Madness is here. I love it. I bet I don’t watch one game all year til March. When the tournament starts I watch every game I can. I love it and I always fill out a bracket. I was 12 and 4 yesterday, but the first round is fairly easy. It will get tough in the second round and guessing, like I do, ain’t gonna get. But, it’s fun to do anyway.

I just finished these two paintings last week. everyone loves the Hank Williams painting, no one commented on the American Flag Pig. Go figure.



















I have mentioned before how I love thrift shops. Well look at what I found yesterday. The black shoes are Gripfast, made in England, they retail for $150, I paid 8.99. The brown shoes are made by Rockport and I don’t know what they retail for, but I paid 10.99 for them. Both pair are like new, I can’t believe how lucky I got. I’m as happy as a little girl.

NOLA Revisited

I could go again and again and again and……. but you get the idea. If your like me and you like old things, good food, strange people, good music and cool bars than ya gotta love New Orleans. We are on our way back there this Saturday. To see the Mardi Gras Indians again. It will be only our second time to see the Indian gangs and their scouts and fly boys. Last year the uptown Indians were the only gang to parade, this year we get to see the Downtown parade. I hope so any way because it’s hard to get info on the Indians and they do what they want when they want. They have no parade permit, they have no set route, they have no set date. This makes it kind of hard to find them. We are actually very lucky this year. I thought they would parade the first Sunday after St. Joesph day, which I think is this Sunday the 22nd. But I read in the New Orleans News Paper, online of coarse, that they were due to parade last Sunday and got rained out. So we’ve been planning on this weekend for a while and had the date wrong the whole time. Good thing. That’s Wabi Sabi for ya right there.

At this point I have no idea where we will eat. This is a huge decision. It requires lot’s of research. I’ve been using the New Orleans news paper, TheTimesPicayune, for that research as well. There is tons of info on food and drink and where to get it. Currently there is both a bar and a dining guide offering hundreds of places. And I love reading about all these restaurants. New Orleans has got to be one of the best food cities in the world. I had some idea of where I thought I would like to eat, but after reading some of the dining guide I now have no idea. I do know I want to go to Tujague’s for a bloody mary, maybe some food.

We are also going to try and see Spencer Bohren play at the botanical gardens Sunday evening. The gardens are in city park and we have never been there. The park looks really large on the map. Mr. Bohren is a musician with a very interesting background. You should click on his name and read a little about him. The last time I heard him was about 30 years ago at a little bar named Judge Roy Bean. It was in Montrose, Al. and a friend in high school had a brother who ran the place. We were in high school, drinking free Heineken’s, listening to Spencer Bohren sing and play all these old, beautiful guitars. Those were the day’s!



This is a photo taken by Stacey. It is from the uptown Indian Parade we went to last year. I think I may try and paint this guy.

Brittany’s Thoughts from Uganda

As many of you know, our close friend, colleague, and UAPO Founder Brittany Merill is in Uganda right now. She sent an email yesterday that read like a stream of consciouness journal entry and I had to share it. This is such a beautiful sentiment on life and makes me long for Africa! Thanks, Britt.


We are winding through the green hills of southwestern Uganda in a race to reach the city by nightfall. Our car teeters on a steep ridge allowing short glimpses of villages buried in the handprints of small mountains. The hazy orange sun flights to prove his colors stretch across the sky. Rolling farms resemble a tapestry of colored strands with blue sky and brown straw huts. Smells of fresh fruit, clean air, and raw earth fill our car as it plunges deep into a valley decorated with miles of banana plantations. As the sun flights to find us, branches of banana tress turn electric green with its light. It is a sight that can only be properly voiced by Hemmingway and Churchill.

As I flight to get the windows down, I notice scratches covering the palms of my hands down to my knees. Wonderful battle wounds from a weekend spent exploring unturned rocks, waterfalls, and watering holes of the Nile. In a weekend romp, we played under a tapestry of stars, slept in bandas, ate roasted pig, and read under Jackurunda trees. It was if we had landed in a deserted jungle that beckoned us to discover its secrets.

Cool air rushes through the banana plantations, wisps strands of hair across my face, and makes it way into my heart. It whispers beautiful things and fills my spirit with hope. It took leaving the city to remind me of the intoxicating beauty of Africa.

At the same moment U2 sings, “grace finds beauty in everything.” Beauty in the struggle and beauty in the triumph… in the difficulty and the purpose… in spectacular scenery and even in refugee camps.

I feel an incredible range of emotions when I am in Uganda. Exhausted but filled. Frustrated but exhilarated. Lonely but loved. I have learned that whatever emotions may exist- I always feel deeply human and alive. I am reminded that with all the difficulties that come with my work, I am living a grand adventure… and most importantly, I am living.

I have followed my dreams, taken risks, lived boldly, failed miserably, cried, laughed, and loved deeply. I have experienced the touch of the divine, shared food with orphans, danced with widows, and seen beauty unspeakable. I have fought for justice, felt defeated, tired, and frustrated. I have also felt rare joy, witnessed answered prayers, achieved the impossible, and watched love change my heart.

I think about the rest of my life… How many hours do I have left? What will they bring? How will I use them?

“God grant me the courage to change the things I can…”

Today we leave for the refugee camps in Northern Uganda. Once again I feel totally incapable and even lack the desire to go. How will we bring hope to such a dark place? What dangers await us? Do we have the ability to transform a refugee community? How will I stay there for five days? And then I hear the words that have spoken so clearly to my heart over the last five years and given me the audacity for such tasks. “I will always go where you go. I’ll give you a full life in the emptiest of places- firm muscles, strong bones. You will be like a well-watered garden, a gurgling spring that never runs dry. You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundations from out of your past. You’ll be known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate, make the community livable again.” -Isaiah 58

Fear is normal and can be overcome. The most important things in life cause us to risk humiliation and failure. Have the courage to live. To love. To pray. It is in these things, however difficult the journey may be to find them, that we experience life… and life was designed to be lived.

“In different times and different ways, our heavenly father offers us a simple proposition; Follow me beyond what you can control, beyond where your own strength and competencies can take you, and beyond what is affirmed or risked by the crowd- and you will experience me and my power and my wisdom and my love.” – Garry A. Haugen, CEO International Justice Mission

This journey has taught me to live deeply… from my heart, my mind, my body, and my spirit. If I believe, I will always find my way.

Grace finds beauty in everything because God is a part of it all and has the ability to restore the darkest of places and even the darkest of hearts.

My prayer is to restore beauty and hope to a war-zone. It is a lofty goal but I have to believe that with grace it is possible. If he can change a heart like mine- how much more difficult will it be to transform a small community?

But even if we fail, I have been reminded that grace and beauty can truly be found in any corner of the word and in the crevasses of the heart.

Hold me in your hearts the next several days…

Brittany

Mardi Gras Furniture

For the last two years I have been given wood from a Mardi Gras float that was gonna be rebuilt. I have used the lumber in lot’s of project, the latest is an order for a beach house on the Gulf Coast. Here are a couple photos.






























This is heavy duty furniture. The table is 72″ in diameter and 1 and 3/4 ” thick. The lumber comes from a house at the corner of 7th and Penn ave. in Midtown, Atlanta. I got a call from a friend and he and his crew were the guy’s charged with replacing the top of this house, rebuilding it, if you will. I think a tree fell on it, I’m not sure. I am sure it is old lumber, the house is a 100 years old, easy. I got a lot of 2 X 8’s and some 1″ X 6″ lumber. I used that and the rough cut pine, from the Mardi Gras float to do 90% of this job.The bed has a lot of float wood used in it.

Next up is 2 commissioned paintings and a swing and maybe a bed . So once again….. there are a few more pieces in this order I will finish them and post a photot of them soon.

Soy Sauce

This is what it looked like around here Sunday.















This is what it looks like today!















That’s what I like about the South. The weather was great for Mardi Gras. The Mystic Fish have been very lucky, it has only rained once on their parade, it wasn’t much and caused no harm. For the party Saturday night we also had great weather. That and good food, we were set. We ate about 10 or 12 dozen oysters, some raw some steamed. Stacey found these beautiful shrimp for the shrimp boil. Folks told her they were the biggest and best they had. Some of these folks were from the Gulf Coast and new of what they spoke. We also ate 4 bacon explosions. Six were cooked, one went home with Stacey’s lil Sis and one went home with us. The other 4 were eaten that night.

We had some new folks join us for the festivities this year. Some rejoined us after a break of a few years. They were busy having kids or something. Some folks we missed for the first time in a long time and hope they are back next year. It’s not the same without ya’ll.

All that being said I have to say it was one of our best years. Everything went very smooth. All the prepration was more like play then work. I think we have finally got the hang of it.

Mystic Fish 2009

Mardi Gras was February 24th this year. The Mystic Fish parade rolled the 22nd. This years theme was “HOLY MACKEREL”. The float for the Mystic Fish parade was a 7′ tall red Octopus with black polka dots. The Fish never try to match their float to their theme, always trying to keep the spectator thinking.

This year was a great success. Other then Nancy and Kim getting in a drinking match and everyone knows Nancy can drink Kim under the table, things went great. Just before the parade stepped off the Chief of Police and his number one man showed up and escorted the Fish parade all the way to Broad and Government St. where we had our finest parade in 17 years.

The Fish also enjoyed the best band they have engaged so far. The Blow House is the best Mardi Gras band, by far, in the whole world. The trombone blower has rubber knees and their groupies are the prettiest girls anywhere. We were proud to have them.

The Fish were without one of their founding members this year, the Big Daddy was truly missed. But, not missing a beat the Fish reached out to the Order Juno and borrowed their newest member who did an excellent job filling in for the Big Daddy. She was a tall drink of water and the Mystic Fish thank her for her spirited participation.

Folks traveled far and wide to be with the Fish this year and one thinks a good time was had by all. Can’t wait til next year!

Same old same old

Mom fell, Kim threw up and I rode a red Octopus.

Stay old tune, more to come.