Adventures in Acadiana -- Part II

The trip to Lafayette began for me at about 4:45 a.m. on Wednesday, the 15th, when Jackie coaxed me out of bed. By 5:45 we were on our way out of NO, and that part was actually pretty easy. The city had opened up the "contraflow" the day before on I-10 West, meaning all four lanes (the two actually heading West and the two which normally go East) were open to the West. There was no going East on the 10 for several miles. We booked along fairly well for probably ten or fifteen miles, but the closer we got to Baton Rouge, the more bogged down we became. After a while, Barney had had enough and we got off the interstate and hit one of the state highways. While longer under ordinary circumstances, in the end we probably saved ourselves a lot of time and headaches. Plus this route was more interesting because we got to drive through a lot more bayou and several small towns and see lots and lots of sugarcane fields (even an abandoned sugar mill). Much more scenic than the 10. We made our way across the Mississippi over the Sunshine Bridge which is named for the LA governor who made popular the song "You Are My Sunshine." The river would be SOOO much more appealing without all the refineries.

Barney, Reba, and I arrived in Lafayette at about 12:30 (normally the trip takes about two and a half hours), and Jackie, the kids, Honey, and the three cats went on to Grand Coteau a few miles away to stay with Jackie's folks -- three adults, two children, two dogs, and three cats were a little too much for any one household. Barney's dad Al greeted me with two pink teacup roses and a "Welcome to Lafayette, young miss refugee." He and Kay (Barney's mom) are two of the most absolutely delightful people I've ever met. They went above and beyond the call of duty to accomodate me and my needs by arranging for a portable commode so I could use the restroom and talking to a CNA and a nurse they knew to help me in and out of bed. Barney and I spent Wednesday just relaxing while Al finished up his work day with his patients and Kay went to her arts in film class. In the early evening we went for a walk down the street and back. The street on which Kay and Al live is basically a dead end, and at the dead end was a mansion. Not the huge, fancy kind like in the Beverly Hillbillies or even a big plantation home for which the South is famous, just a simple, square, brick, large structure. I can't even really explain to most why I was so enamored of the place (except maybe to the Pack and Hywela), but I loved it and its surroundings instantly. It was abandoned and clearly had been for some time as evidenced by the yard, but the ENERGY. I wanted to get a picture of the place, but it was torn down before I could do it. Yeah, you read that correctly -- in the short space of four days, it was gone. The older couple who lived in it had died some time ago, and the grandchildren who inherited the estate were too stuck-up to want to mess with it. Instead of selling it to someone who would restore it and enjoy it, they tore it down. According to Kay, they want to build condos , but they're not likely going to accomplish that goal because of the covenant of the neighborhood which states only single family homes on the street. I'm still in mourning for that mansion.

Wednesday evening was spent eating salmon and talking. Al is a fount of knowledge, and I learned a lot about Louisiana and plantations and music and history and a dozen other things in the days I spent in the Rees home. I went to bed early that night.

Next morning, Barney knocked at the time we had agreed I'd get up, but I was pretty much still non-functional. I managed to roll my head over and crack open an eye (felt a little like Luta in a story I'm writing), but talking was pretty much out. Barney asked if I'd slept, and I nodded once. He asked if I wanted to sleep more, and I nodded again. The door closed, and I was zonked again. I managed to get up and bed-bathed and to breakfast while Al's famous cornbread was still hot, though. OK, so everyone else had already eaten, but who cares? Had a few of Kay's kumquat preserves on the cornbread and some juice, and after a bit Jackie and the kids arrived. Jackie was heading out to shop with her mom, and Barney, Kay, and I took the kids to the children's museum. It was quite a fun and interesting time. One room was about the LA Purchase and pioneer life, and the kids can dress up in pioneer clothes or even like a French officer or royalty. Another room was a cafe where the kids are the staff and take orders and serve the adults plastic food. I think that one was the biggest hit with all the kids, even over the bubble-making area.

After a semi-quick run through the gift shop where Anna got a mini deck of Old Maid cards, Patrick got one of those super bouncey balls, and Dawn got a piece of moss agate, we were off to Borden's Ice Cream for cones and shakes. Yum! Back to Kay and Al's where Barney started a big pot of spaghetti sauce. When he said he was taking me to a bird sanctuary while the sauce cooked, I asked Jackie to get me a disposable camera.

Lake Martin is the epitome of LA waterway/bayou with bald cypresses growing up out of it and an abundance of bird life which just happened to mostly be elsewhere while we were there. We did see quite a few egrets, lesser blue herons, and ibises, though. We got excited at one point because we thought we glimpsed a roseate spoonbill through the trees, but we were wrong. Darn it. I had my chair turned and I was looking out the driver's side for the tour, but about three quarters of the way around the lake Barney asked, "You like Medieval and Renaissance stuff, right?" He told me to turn my chair around and said, "What kind of person builds a castle in the swamp?" Right there off the shore of the lake was a home built to resemble the tower of a castle, looking perfectly in harmony with its surroundings. Loved it!

To be continued again . . . .

Just for fun

Found this on my pal Kendermouse's LiveJournal. I never pegged myself as Galadriel, but elves are my most favorite fantasy characters.

Galadriel

Possessing a rare combination of wisdom and humility, while serenely dominating your environment you selflessly use your powers to care for others.

Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.

Adventures in Acadiana -- Part I

Leave it to me to be in a place three and a half weeks, and without a vehicle for the first time in ten years, and have a hurricane hit. Ivan was the talk of campus all day Monday, 13 September, but no one really thought he was much of a threat -- not even when UNO announced it was shutting down at 4:30. I spent the afternoon educating myself on the bad and good locations to be in relation to a hurricane, but I was never really that worried. Then the Privateer staff came around and announced that there was a mandatory evacuation in place -- we were to be off the UNO campus by 2 p.m. Tuesday. Sure, and how do you suggest I do THAT? The campus and city police and the Red Cross disaster preparedness folks were less than helpful, to be VERY nice about it (the RC wasn't very prepared, in my opinion -- the guy ACTUALLY asked if someone could just put my power chair in an attic to save it from the water). My advisor Barney Rees had offered for Reba and I to come to his place within walking distance of campus, but how to get out of the city? Ivan was veering more and more Westward, and there was a very real possibility that he could slam NO. Great. Fabulous.

Option -- rent a wheelchair-accessible van from a company used by my pal Gina in the past. I called, and they actually had vans available. Hoorah. They delivered to Barney's house Tuesday afternoon, and he and his wife Jackie came to pick me up. We went back to their house and finished getting things ready to go to Lafayette, then we heard about the traffic. To say it was crowded is an understatement. We opted to leave early Wednesday morning in hopes that the traffic would thin out. Anna, Barney and Jackie's ten-year-old daughter, watched a little "Pirates of the Caribbean" while Patrick, the six-year-old, played in his room and Reba and Honey the Golden retriever played in the backyard.

Almost time for bed. To be continued . . . .

Killin' time

Engaging in study-avoidance behavior, and found this quiz on my pal Kendermouse's Live Journal.

I Am Coyote

Coyote is a fun-loving goofball and that fits you to a T. Playfully silly, you appear somewhat bumbling at times, and your goofy exterior sometimes makes people forget what a quick mind and razor wit hides behind that amiable grin. In the mythos of the Plains tribes, Coyote is also a Creator, and stole fire as a gift for mankind. Your gift to the world is the creative fire of your quick, capable mind.

Which'>http://www.isleofdreams.net/trickstertest.html">Which Trickster Are You?

I miss curb-cuts

The last three weeks in the big city have been a real eye-opener for me. Bigger isn't always better. Case in point -- opening a checking account. What should have been a nice, 15 or 20 minute walk to the bank turned into an hour plus ordeal -- one way -- when I encountered intersection after intersection without curb-cuts (one of these was a pretty major one). My childhood standby of going down driveways and then crossing the street was even out because this place has some WHACKED OUT driveways! They're really glorified curbs with not much incline at all. I opted for a nice two-minute bus ride home, but even that turned out to be a pain when the driver dropped me at Elysian Fields -- the opposite side of campus from where I needed to be. Admittedly, I should have told him to drop me at Founder's Road, but of all the places he could have dropped me, he left at the one corner onto campus with NO SIDEWALK! This little phenomenon (shut up, Paul) itself is interesting. There is no rhyme or reason to where the sidewalks are and where they aren't.

I feel I should call the city and petition for some freaking curb-cuts.

Dammit, I'm a Ph.D candidate, not a gimp advocate. Shut up, Anita -- I'm not interested in hearing about growth experiences.

Adventures in the Quarter -- Beignets, the Big Muddy, and Little Discoveries

Reba and I ventured to the Quarter yesterday. She did very well on the bus -- it helped that we didn't have psycho drivers slamming on brakes at every stop and making us slide around.

Our first stop was the infamous Cafe du Monde, home of world-reknowned beignets and coffee. After a long search for a table, I was invited to join a lovely couple at their table and proceeded to wait fifteen or twenty minutes for a waiter. I was thrilled to learn that my desire for sweets wasn't going to break me -- an order of three beignets and a cup of hot chocolate with tax came to three dollars even. Fabulous. OK, so it was a little to warm for hot chocolate, but I don't drink coffee (iced or otherwise) and I'd heard the chocolate was pretty darned tasty. It was. The funniest part about being at CdM was watching Reba watch the pigeons. The pigeons of course were fearless, and in their pecking up fallen bits of beignet one literally came within a foot and a half of Reba. She merely sat beside me and watched it VEEEERY intently, but she didn't make a lunge for it. I was so proud.

I ate only one beignet (loaded with powdered sugar and very sweet) and packed the other two to go, then we set off down Decatur Street to do a little sightseeing. After about a block or so, Reba started acting like she needed to find a patch of grass. We finally found one, and as she took care of business I noticed a sign at the top of the hill decrying River Walk. I found a ramp, and when we crested the hill, there was the mighty Mississip. We walked along it for a while, stopped to talk with a really nice older gentleman selling handmade jewelry (Nay, you shoulda been there -- he had a GORGEOUS moss agate necklace), and then just sat in the shade for a while and watched the boats go by. I'm thinking about checking to see if any of the steamboats are accessible.

The rest of the afternoon we just walked up and down a few blocks, occasionally going into this store or that shop to have a respite from the heat. One of our stops was at The Shops at Canal Place, an extremely ritzy-titsy place. No Gucci for this poor college girl. I did buy some over-priced incense at L'Occitane En Provence, but I figured I deserved to spoil myself a little. Lavender-amber, what a combo!

My other discovery (besides a few bars to visit when Mark and Amy come down -- there's actually a Coyote Ugly Saloon on Peters Street, but there were no women dancing on the bar when I went by) was a delightful second-hand bookstore called Beckham's. The first book I saw was my oft-coveted EO Wilson tome The Ants. Even here it was still out of my price range, but the price was better than new. There was also a very nice looking man carefully repairing a book in one of the side aisles. Hey, I notice these things.

All in all, Reba and I had a very nice, relaxing time in spite of the heat. I was a little disappointed I didn't see any of Decadence, but I never made it over to Bourbon Street. Oh well, there's always next year.

Just When You Thought You'd Seen It All #1 (revisited)

I saw the fairy again on Friday (and no, Kevin, I wasn't sipping absinthe all day). I asked one of my attendants if she had ever seen her (we were discussing strange things/people we'd seen), and while she hadn't seen her herself, her roommate had mentioned seeing her several times. Makes me wonder what this chick's story is.

In other news, I'm going to attempt to go down to Cafe du Monde tomorrow and have that beignet I've been wanting for three months. Promises to be an interesting people-watching experience since Southern Decadence is occurring this weekend.