The anniversary of a hurricane, noted by another hurricane, school is coming

Y’all, it has been a week. We are at that point in summer where I just want everyone out of my house. And yet, Tom is still working from home, and Oliver doesn’t return to school until 9/8. Jack starts 10th grade tomorrow, enormous news as he spent fewer than 20 days of freshman year actually in school. His first class of high school was online net sports. Bless. I made his favorite meal tonight- gumbo and blackberry pie- and he ate gallons and tons. So, as he heads into tomorrow with a fantastic new haircut and a great slate of classes, he is ready, despite a few nerves.

Last Wednesday, my dad had a fairly standard surgery. After less than 24 hours, however, he was discharged in completely ambivalent fashion, and not three hours later, I took him to the ER. We were there until nearly midnight, and as we drove home realized that the next day, Friday, was the first anniversary of Hurricane Laura. What a shitty anniversary. And to cap that off, Hurricane Ida started approaching. As I’m sure you’ve seen, she landed with a thunderous Cat 4 bash on SE Louisiana around lunchtime today, the 16th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. At present, all of New Orleans is without power, the Mississippi River actually REVERSED course for several hours because of Ida’s extremely high winds, 22 barges broke free in one parish, and 22 miles of I-10 are already closed because of downed trees, and after seven hours, the storm is still a Cat 3. And this on top of the horrific Covid situation across Louisiana. None of this is good at all. I am SO THANKFUL that my parents live here now and aren’t boarding up, evacuating, and so forth. Mom worked in her garden today, Dad rested, I brought him gumbo, and now I’m giving more thanks for the silver lining that is Laura booting them from Lake Charles.

For a bit of levity, I give you this.

Mask up, y’all, stay safe, and may our children stay in school!

NOLA

New Orleans is 296 years old today. I LOVE this quote about The Big Easy:

“We dance even if there’s no radio. We drink at funerals. We talk too much and laugh too loud and live too large and, frankly, we’re suspicious of others who don’t.”

- Chris Rose, 1 Dead in Attic, 2006

Thursday dispatch from New Orleans

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One aspect of New Orleans that I've always loved, and something that drew me into Charleston too, is the degree of mysteriousness lurking in so many of the city's nooks: narrow alleys that lead to unknown ends; all that could be hidden behind the elephantine tree leaves and ancient live oaks spotting New Orleans like snow; dark corners and quiet stores lazing modestly out of sight. Crumbly facades, slightly overgrown park benches, iron work and wood entangled in ways that seem impossible to part. And why would they?

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Another element of charm is the joie de vivre inherent in decisions like leaving all Mardi Gras beads that snare in the trees lining the parade routes exactly where they land. Some of the trees on St. Charles are so laden with shiny plastic pearls that you wonder if ever leaves will grow again; are these jewels their new foliage? The trolleys rumble by underneath, the necklaces swaying casually in their wake.

For lunch yesterday, T and I ate at Bayona, a 20+ year old Susan Spicer restaurant we've not eaten at in years. It wasn't as amazing as I remembered but we loved it all the same. If you weren't looking for Bayona, you could easily walk past it repeatedly before frustration made you look carefully for its lovely iron sign hanging from an eave out front. As you walk through the gate, the courtyard out back beckons. It is gorgeous, all brick and lush greenery, an oak's sweeping arms welcoming you graciously. That's what I mean. To make a judgment about what's behind any of New Orleans' exteriors based on what those facades seem to suggest is a grave mistake. And a fun lesson to learn.

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The boys really love it here. It's an easy place to be: kid-friendly, slow, utterly casual (most of the time), bedecked with personality. It's easy to feel happy here, though I know that's not the case all the time or, sadly, for many of the city's residents.

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Tomorrow is our last day. We might spend a bit more time perusing haunts in the Quarter or the Marigny, might eat at an old hole-in-the-wall Mom and Dad remember fondly (they and my sister went to Tulane), will probably just take it easy as best we can with the young loons.

By the way, if you or your kids need a springy side dish, my fam is currently obsessed with these lemony green beans. Two big handfuls of snapped green beans, the juice of half a lemon, several tablespoons of oil, salt. Hot pan, hot oil, toss those beans until they glisten and start to show signs of cookin! A little brown here, a little brown there. Well north of mush though, peeps. Don't slaughter your veggies.

lemony green beans