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One of the great things about T is her love for New Orleans. She had an opportunity to move elsewhere and couldn’t imagine not living here. 

I woke melancholy without her – her first night out of the compound as her friends refer to the LaLa – it was a stunningly gorgeous day and there was a marathon passing in front of the house. Roy hung his usual “TURN FOR THE WORSE” sign up right at the bend and he made a enormous batch of grits and grillades and biscuits, along with the requisite mimosas. 




We sat on the porch and watched the runners and hooted and hollered for the first one by, the first woman by, the almost naked ones, and anyone with any semblance of a costume on. My neighbor brought her 5 month old son by – who is adorable – my other neighbor had her five month old yellow lab puppy pulling against his leash – and friends stopped by in stages to sit and talk, watch, eat, and drink. 

The day was perfect when T came riding up on her bike – finally getting over this bug that has gripped the entire neighborhood. 

When mom and I were headed to Franklinton yesterday to visit the gravesites – we passed a place that had a sign hanging loose from a pole that said VALHALLA. I jokingly told mom, oh that’s where Valhalla is – and she asked in earnest, “Do you think they allow visitors?” – which cracked me up. 

I love this place – New Orleans, Bayou St John, LaLa – like no other in the world – and I do believe I have found my own private Valhalla. 

This entry was posted on Monday, February 25th, 2008 at 9:04 am and is filed under Main. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.