Last night, we stood in line with hordes of parade goers, waiting for the ‘’Tit R~x Parade to get underway. In my hand I held a hastily-constructed stand of tiny spectators, proportionately appropriate for the tiny floats making up the parade that parodies the grandaddy of all Mardi Gras parades, the Krewe of Rex. I’d read that the creator of...
The Mississippi River seeps through the concrete, the grass is smushy when you step.
“Oh, drat.” I lift my leg. “My foot is wet.”
Well, no wonder. The sole has separated from the body.
My foot is having an out-of-body experience.
I’m having fun, running the dog through the parking lot. She tears in circles, herding imaginary sheep.
Our apartment in New Orleans overlooks the Mississippi River. At least that’s the way I remember it. For the last two days, the fog has been so heavy we might as well have been in 19th century London. That’s been fun, the rolling patches of fog, the slightly eerie sensation of driving through a deserted Quarter, a lone tourist hurrying across...
I attract spiders.
I haven’t put up a Christmas tree—other than Tom’s little Target tree, which we never take down, it stays up year-round—in 10 years.
I want an El Camino.
I am afraid of ocean liners.
I can’t spell, I have no sense of direction, I am a hyperventilating cook, yet I have lived for over fifty years.
All my life, I’ve preferred...