Elisa bought me a fantastic book called the Drunken Botanist by Amy Stewart, and in that spirit, we’ve done a little gardening on the porch of her uptown shotgun with cocktails in hand. There are a few new pepper plants, a new succulent, and even a few wormwood plants in the mix.
Inside, we’ve been experimenting with tinctures, and now have extracts of lavender, rosemary (from the garden), basil, bay leaf, rooibos, and elderflower, among others, for
It’s true! This book, and this man, have made my porch so lovely and inspiring. Not to mention that if you walk into a fancy bar with The Drunken Botanist in hand (yes, we read at bars!), they will chat you up and maybe, just maybe, buy you a drink and tell you secrets of where to buy the best booze in the city.
Springtime is so damn lovely this year.
I have a really good feeling about this week. Day off tomorrow and a visit from a far away friend, then red beans and rice dinner with our dear departing John Deere execs. Later in the week, a long-awaited visit from my most handsome and amazing fella, and off Friday-Tuesday for bike rides, eating, drinking, and all that New Orleans has to offer. Y’all, Springtime in New Orleans is really pretty magical.
Super Sunday certainly lived up to it’s name today! Super Sunday (the Sunday closest to St. Joseph’s Day, another heavily celebrated day in New Orleans) is the Mardi Gras indians biggest day. They debut their stunning handmade indian outfits and “battle” in the streets of Central City before second-lining through the streets. There are indians from age 3 to age…old, each with intricately hand-sewn headresses, aprons, shoes, and staffs.
The day includes brass bands, street food, booze (It’s New Orleans, after all!), revelry, hollering, and an astounding number of photographers. For me it also included brunch and a bike ride.
As per tradition, I gave this indian a few bucks for letting me get a photo with him. Later I saw him hollering and dancing on La Salle Blvd in traditional indian style. I was pretty much the only person there not Instagramming the whole thing, which was odd; even kids and the elderly had their iPhones out, snapping away.
Just bought fried chicken, a king cake, Abita Mardi Gras Bock, and Bayou Teche Courir de Mardi Gras.
Must be the first big parade of the longest, best weekend of the year…MARDI GRAS.
I’ll sleep next Tuesday (for about 14 hrs), when i put away my tutu and hot pants for the year (or till the next New Orleans party).
Now that Super Bowl is over, we get a chance to rest in New Orleans…for 2 days until the parades start up on Wednesday evening. Looks like the whole city will sleep (hard) again the night of Fat Tuesday. Good thing we have king cake, coffee, and beer to sustain and energize us.
Let’s do the damn thing.
Krewe du Vieux in a nutshell: Fuck you, Roger Goodell. Fuck you, (some)Times Picayune. PENISES!
Krewe du Vieux, the most non-family friendly parade we have, is often seen as the “real” start of Mardi Gras. It is raunchy, satirical, and full of debauchery and revelry. This year did not disappoint.
Happy Mardi Gras, y’all!
Bluegrass Pickin’ Party at Hi Ho Lounge on Mondays: a rockin’ good time. Red Beans and Rice for only $2…and it’s good, y’all. I think this may need to be a new Monday night to-do, though I am not sure I have enough flannel/plaid/beard/suspenders/work-boots/ugly denim jacket to fit in fully.
Alligator: the other white meat.