My sib and partner visited for five days and geez I’m tired!
They flew in Sunday on the heels of a drenching thunderstorm. I sloshed my way to the library and hopped the express bus to the airport. After dropping off luggage and a brief rest to charge phones, we got coffee at Bywater Bakery and rambled around town, visiting a vintage store and enjoying the post-storm afternoon. A stop at Mardi Gras Super Market netted beads, masks (including an exquisite rhinestone number) and a t-shirt. Dinner was Rosalita’s, then jazz in the FQ and on Frenchmen Street, ending with Treme Brass Band, all of us exhausted.
Monday, coffee and grits at St. Coffee. Everyone had work so we reconvened in the evening for Viet-Cajun cuisine at Bywater Brew Pub, including fried pickles and charred brussels, then over to the holiday market at Siberia (punk art!) and a thorough tour of Robert’s Grocery Store and all the Southern, Cajun, New Orleans special ingredients.
Tuesday we rambled in the increasing heat through the French Quarter in search of cake. Most bakeries were closed, so we made do at Cafe Beignet with their carrot cake, checked out the Backstreet Cultural Museum, tried in vain to buy vegetarian soul food (all venues were closed), then gave up and walked to the Quarter for Central Grocery muffaletta, another punk market, band-aids, and then to the museum for Da Truth Brass Band on the balcony. It was a pleasant evening with stiff drinks courtesy of Donny, an energetic brass band, and two young dancers who moved with joy. Then a quick trip to Goodwill, another vain search for veg-friendly soul food, and finally over to a chain for less than wonderful grits, mac-and-cheese and OK pecan pie.
Wednesday we noticed with the severe weather alerts, that schools were pre-emptively closing, then the museums. I walked my sib back to the Airbnb under lowering clouds and thickly humid heat with a stop for cake at the co-op. My landlord was frantic, insisting we not walk, giving me advice if there was a tornado. I got back home and settled in to watch a Christmas movie only to get an Imminent Danger alert around 3.45 to seek shelter. Shit. This was real. My sib was keeping an eye on the news and weather radar but I was too freaked out, so I followed orders and sheltered in the bathtub with a heavy quilt and some blankets and my charged-up phones. There was wind and drenching rain. The sky was dark, then lighter and green. It got loud, then quiet. Is this when to worry, I wondered. My sib called. There’s a tornado southeast and heading directly our way. Well fuck. We hung up. I pulled the comforter over my head and waited. My partner texted. A niece. A co-worker. By 4.30 the tornado had passed a few blocks to the east and I could finally step out of the tub but I was shaky. Was more coming? It rained hard for another hour. I watched the radar and the rest of my movie, fortified with whiskey egg nog. Later we had dinner at Cochon, my neighborhood empty and quiet, some fences blown over, the streets littered with palm tree branches and debris. Frenchmen Street was empty, all clubs except the Spotted Cat shuttered and dark. We browsed the bookstore and went home.
Blue skies Thursday, and cold. My family’s last day, so we hit the hot spots: Loretta’s for praline beignets, Bywater for chantilly cake, Elizabeth’s for fried green tomatoes and more charred brussels. Dr. Bob’s art estate, another vintage store, and then goodbyes. It was nice to have people here that know me. I say this to friends and they brush me off--well you meet people don’t you--but it’s not the same. Also, we lived through an ugly storm, huddled in our respective tubs, afraid and hoping for the best.
Today it’s back to work. I’ve got gifts to mail and Doreen Ketchens is playing tonight.
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