MARDI GRAS

UNTIL WE WENT to New Orleans, I thought there was one Mardi Gras parade, not realizing that the celebration begins at Epiphany and continues on through Fat Tuesday. That was just one of the things we learned at the Elderhostel program we attended. Pralines, Voodoo, King cakes, the Blue Dog, Bananas Foster, crawfish.......on and on.

I hate admitting that I'm not much of a museum person (the museum gift shop is an altogether different matter), but the Mardi Gras museum in New Orleans was small enough to be manageable and filled with interesting exhibits. There, using his imagination, Mr. Bob joined a crowd of parade watchers.

We enjoyed programs in that part of the country twice. Both times we were on the now extinct RiverBarge as it plied the rivers. Once the studies were in Music of the Mississippi and the other time we learned about the Cajun culture. That was the visit where we went to the Tabasco Plantation. We've never understood why Mr. Bob's nose matched the color of the giant Tabasco bottle.

Back in New Orleans, it took two trips before we got ourselves to Cafe du Monde. Actually, we attempted the experience twice but the first time involved a taxi ride in which we left our camera and we were so distraught that we just walked back to the hotel rather than sitting down to enjoy the cafe's world renowned beignets. We never recovered the camera but as time went by we got over it.

The beignets were good. I found them tricky to eat for there's so much powdered sugar on them that one risks death if taking a bite while breathing in and an exhale will cover your clothing with white powder. It's obvious what Mr. Bob thinks of chicory coffee.

I loved learning to say "Laissez les bon temp rouler" and to this day, when I do so with a nasal twang, it usually makes Mr. Bob laugh. "Let the good times roll" is my motto.

Mardi Gras is celebrated here at the Manor with a special meal and music. Last year Harvey and Sheila took part.

That was the day I lost a crown eating catfish. Funny how you remember that sort of thing.

There'll be plenty of beads for everyone and the good times will roll, if only for an hour or two. And then Mr. Bob will conk out, completely exhausted by so much revelry.

Laissez les bon temps rouler!!!

HOME AWAY FROM HOME (archival)

While wondering if I've taken on too much with the resumption of this daily web log, I had an idea which may or may not be a good one. For a long time I've gathered photos into a folder to be considered for blog illustration. Many of them have never been used. What if, on days when there's nothing manorial to report, I took a picture a day and said a few words about it? I don't want to get into a habit of living in bygone days, but some of what happened is worth revisiting once in a while. So...........

It wasn't quite the gypsy wagon I'd yearned for, but it was a self-contained little house on wheels. I was ecstatic at thoughts of the possibilities it offered. Mr. Bob was thrilled at the idea of having his bathroom with him at all times. Over the few years we owned it, we traveled as far as Newport Dunes and Canyon Country and Bakersfield and we spent a freezing cold night in an RV park on the Central Coast. With friends we traveled up Hwy. 395 to the Carson River Valley. Once we even managed to get as far as Northern California. My memories of it are good ones. I especially liked exploring the tiny stores in campgrounds and fantasized about being a buyer for those retail outlets.  We had the motorhome long enough to widen the driveway at considerable expense. In those days we were busy with the bookstore and as the vehicle sat, unused in the new expanse of concrete, I had dreams of turning it into my little art studio......a place to get away from it all, but before that came to pass, we sold it.
When you ask him these days why we let it go, Mr. Bob contends that it was too difficult to pull it into the driveway with my inadequate walkie-talkie instructions.

                                            Driveway sans motorhome