Five Things on Friday

It’s Friday once again. I don’t know how I managed to do it, but I’ve skipped a few Fridays since posting. Here are a few things happening in my world this week. Even more exciting, I have an idea for a blog post that will be more than just snippets from my daily life. Stay tuned!

Gargoyle House

This house is for sale in Abita Springs. Aside from the gargoyles, it seems fairly innocuous. Don’t be fooled. There’s the bottle tree on the right corner of the house for starters. Also not pictured is a gigantic wooden sculpture on the right side of angels surrounding a cross. I would love to see inside the house for any further eccentricities.

Waiting long?

I don’t know what you think, but I think that pile of bones on the bench doesn’t help the local pizza joint’s reputation for slow service. Look at that guy, will you? He’s been waiting awhile for his delivery.

Joy of Christmas

I got paid $300 for my story on Christmas at the local jail by Guideposts Magazine. And three free copies arrived in the mail this week. I’m on my way to earning BIG bucks.

Jack-o’-lantern

My front porch has been sporting a stacked set of jack-o’-lanterns. I remember as a child carving real pumpkins for Halloween. I don’t think very many people do that anymore, but I can carry on with my lighted ceramic pumpkins to keep the tradition somewhat alive.

Big Hair

Yes, in the 80s I had big hair. And big glasses, too. Perms were in fashion, and I kept my locks curled and high on my head. I am not sure what looks more outgrown in this picture, the fern behind me or the mane on top my head. Fortunately, I now manage my hair in a neater fashion these days.

Five Things on Friday

Once again, it’s Friday. Since I am not putting in the effort today to write a longer post on one subject, I am offering up five short items. I hope you enjoy Five Things on Friday.

  1. Every morning I start the day with a cup of coffee. I drink one cup in my big Snoopy cup. I read a bit, pray a bit, then hit the Tammany Trace for a 45 minute bike ride. This morning, I couldn’t shake off the lethargy, even after the ride, so I decided I needed the big guns. Lucy. I filled her up with a second serving of Dark Roast Community Coffee brewed in my French press. Community Coffee by the way is the only brand of coffee suited for Cajuns. Now I can face the day, thanks to caffeine with attitude.
  2. Speaking of coffee, the small village of Abita Springs now has a coffee shop. At least it’s sort of a coffee shop. It’s a take out service from a retro trailer. I like the vibe. The only problem is that it rolls away in the afternoon. In the morning, I prefer my coffee home brewed. An afternoon cup to take from here and enjoy in the adjacent park would be nice. C’est la vie. Maybe the hours will expand as my fellow Abitians learn to enjoy the afternoon cup as much as the morning java.
  3. This morning I set up my new wireless ear buds. I don’t know why I didn’t buy this before. It’s so nice and freeing to listen to podcasts or music via these fancy ear thingies. I look forward to afternoon walks in our cooler air in October with the buds connected to my Apple watch. In the past, I have listened to podcasts when driving. My faves are Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me! and Stuff You Missed in History Class. I need new material to enjoy while walking. Do you have a favorite podcast or playlist that you want to recommend?
  4. Since we are still in a limbo of sorts in regard to covid restrictions (Louisiana is now in Phase 3, whatever that means), I am limited in social events that are available. Most live music is a no-no, and festivals and fairs, so popular in Louisiana in the fall, largely have been cancelled. Therefore, I must entertain myself at home more than normal. I purchased this big baby from Amazon. It’s a toaster/convection oven/air fryer. Last night, I used the convection setting for sweet potato fries for the first use of the oven. Delish!
  5. Since we are in a bit of a limbo with social events restricted, I have been enjoying spending my evenings reading. The Abita Springs library is open for drive up service, so I have checked out a few things. Lately I have enjoyed Hemingway’s Old Man and the Sea , and Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time. I also borrowed a huge book, an encyclopedia of cooking from my mom’s library. This tome was published in 1947. I have enjoyed reading the old recipes and suggested menus. My favorite section thus far has been the chapter, Brains and Sweetbreads. There are two recipes for scrambled cow’s brains. Doesn’t that sound appetizing?

Five Things on Friday

It’s Friday. And it’s frighteningly hot today. September has brought snow to Colorado and fires to California but here in the deep South, summer heat continues unabated. No change since May. It’s just hot everyday. It’s too hot to concentrate on long posts, so i am going to write short snippets, five in number, for your reading pleasure. I took a drive around town, and I snapped a few pictures of things around Abita Springs, Louisiana, that I thought may interest you.

1. One of my favorite town landmarks is the gorilla that sits in front of a dentist’s office. For some unexplained reason, he wears a shirt advertising the local chiropractor, although he clearly is standing in front of the dentists’s office. Maybe tangling with a gorilla is more likely to cause back problems rather than dental work? I don’t know.

2. Many towns and neighborhoods sport tiny libraries. The idea is for patrons to enjoy books with the rule of take one, leave one. This box stands outside of the Abita Springs hotel. It’s a bit more decorative than most tiny libraries, I think.

3. On the outskirts of town there’s a highway heading toward the Mississippi state line. Along the way, there are several large estates, some of which come with signage. I have never seen the house called Beauregard, as the wooded driveway completely obscures the house. It might be fancy, or not. Who knows?

4. Next door to Beauregard, as you head back into town, there is Neau Regard. Again, one cannot see anything but a sign and a wooded drive leading to a home. Is the home worth no regard? I don’t know. Is the signage indicative that the estate is for a relative of Beauregard? Probably Neau Regard is the home of the black sheep of the family. There’ s no regard for such people, usually.

5. I know that I live amongst authentic and intelligent folk. What else could be the explanation for this excellently decorated home in Abita Springs. This home makes me happy every time I pass by.

That’s Friday five. Enjoy your weekend.

Friday Shorts

Back when blogs were popular, back when I lived in Honduras, back when I published lots of posts, I used to have a regular Friday post called Friday Fragments which were short items about various topics. I linked to a now extinct blog by a friend who hosted a link for other bloggers to publish their Friday Fragments. Today’s items are just short items I felt like writing about.

Do you want to buy a church? There’s one for sale in Abita Springs. I don’t know the whole story, but I read that the pastor AND the congregation of 80 or so persons have moved, so this building is for sale. Sounds a bit cult-like to me, doesn’t it? The entire congregation is moving. Who does that? This church was originally located in eastern Canada, and the pastor had it shipped in pieces down to Louisiana, then reconstructed on the outskirts of Abita Springs. Anyway, the church and the adjacent day-care center are up for grabs if anyone wants it. I like the idea of making it into a restaurant, as happens every now and then with old churches.

Weather is strange at times isn’t it? Well, the weather around here is REALLY strange this time. Early next week there most likely will be 2 named storms in the Gulf of Mexico at the same time. That would be a first. Of course, it’s 2020, so what’s so strange about two hurricanes blasting away at the same time? What area is right in between the cones? Well, none other than New Orleans, Louisiana.

Have you heard of Noom? I’m using this weight loss program to lose weight. It’s a psychology based approach to losing weight. All of the stuff is on the app. I like it. The food diary is easy to use and automatically subtracts calories from your daily allowance. There are behavioral lessons of about 10 minutes each day. Each week there’s a personal coach who interacts with me via the app to guide me. Thus far, I’ve lost 15 lbs. since starting to use the app 60 days ago. Go Noom! Go me!

Did I mention that I have been married before? I found my wedding picture while scanning old photographs from my mother’s collection. I don’t remember marrying my older sister, but the evidence shows it to be true. I don’t remember who was the officiant, perhaps my other sister? My sister remarried as an adult, to a man. I haven’t remarried.

Well, that’s enough short items for today. Enjoy your weekend. Next post may be about the convergence of two hurricanes along the Louisiana coast. I hope not, but who knows. Now I’m on my way to Walmart to stock up on hurricane provisions. At the very least, it’s going to be wet next week.

Stories of my Ancestors

I had some fun in the past few months as I researched my family’s roots. I began by asking myself a few questions that I detailed in another post, Tracing My Roots. Fortunately, I have answered the questions about my family’s past satisfactorily.

I can substantiate that my family did, indeed, own slaves. I discovered a bill of sale on Ancestry.com for a 12 year old boy named Theo who was bought by my ancestor, Jacques Matherne, in 1783. Before Jacques, census records show that Jacques’ grandfather, Johanne, owned five slaves in the early 1700s, shortly after arriving in Louisiana from Germany.

I couldn’t find records of any other ancestor owning slaves. However, slave ownership was quite common in the South. About 1/3 of white families owned slaves in the pre-Civil War days. On average, a slaveowner owned 3-5 slaves. So it’s quite possible that others in the family tree had slaves, too. I just don’t see a record of any others owning slaves.

Did my family participate in the Civil War? Yes, I found a record that my great-great grandfather, Joseph T. Martin, was drafted in 1862, then captured by Union forces the same year near Thibodaux, Louisiana. According to what I have found, he was released on his own recognizance and returned home shortly thereafter. He never traveled more than 30 miles from home during the Civil War.

Again, there probably were others in my family who took up arms for the Confederacy. Starting in 1862, there was a draft, so most families had a family member who served the Confederacy. However, most records only list surnames and a capital letter. Therefore, it’s impossible for me to ascertain if the A. Matherne that I found on a Lafourche Regimental Roll was my ancestor, Anatole Matherne. Could be but who’s to say that were other men named Matherne with an A for a first name in the region.

I uncovered other interesting stories, too. Ursin Napolean Matherne was a philanderer, and in the spirit of his middle name, made many conquests. My great-grandfather fathered at least 16 children, from 3 different women. Those are the children that one can verify. Where there more? Probably, considering he had a marked propensity for leaving his wife and children for periods of time, with little or no explanation for his whereabouts upon his return. I have relatives I know little or nothing about up and down the bayous of Louisiana.

One of the women that I am descended from was Clinda Picou Matherne, my great-grandmother, married to the above-mentioned Ursin Matherne. She was renowned in her community as a traiteur, a Cajun term for a faith healer. She prayed for the sick, laying hands on the ill, then she offered a remedy, usually a homeopathic cure. Payments were traditionally received, though not required for her services. She lived to an old age, just a few months shy of 100 years old. To the end of her days, she was known for praying and offering cures for the sick.

There were other details, too such as when and how my ancestors came to America. I detailed a bit about the long journeys of the Cajuns, who left France for Canada, were forcibly evicted from that land, and eventually made their way to Louisiana. My family was part of that journey, too.

I made a Shutterfly book of pictures and stories about my ancestors. I plan on gifting copies of the book to my nieces and nephews. I didn’t write down all the stories I have heard or read about my ancestors. However, I hope the stories that I managed to wrote down will be handed down for more generations to discover.

Masking Up

It’s official. Louisiana’s governor has ordered the wearing of masks in all public places. Once again, the curve is on the rise in Louisiana. Our curve is not as dramatic as Arizona, Texas or Florida, but we’re close behind those other sunbelt states. In addition, bars are closed again. And gatherings are limited to 50 people or less.

Omelette at the Abita Springs Cafe urges citizens to wear a mask.

At the onset of the stay at home orders in March, I was okay with it. I am not an extrovert. I am comfortable with my own company. I had plenty to keep me occupied at home.

But now? I don’t want to go back to the early draconian measures. And I would be happy to be able to go out more in public gatherings for music, for fun, or even just to congregate at church. Even schools in Louisiana are pushing back start dates to better prepare for what may lie ahead for them.

For me, wearing a mask is just a minor inconvenience. I can take it off at home. I don’t have to work outside with a mask. The biggest drawback is that my glasses tend to fog up when wearing a mask. Otherwise, it’s no big deal to wear a mask to the grocery story, pharmacy or other spots around town.

Personally, I don’t understand the anger some people are expressing towards wearing a mask in public. Somehow they feel it’s an infringement on their rights to wear a mask. Really? Wearing a seatbelt in the car, having to carry a driver’s license all the time, and being scanned at airports for departure are all okay.

But a mask? That’s a violation of some sort of personal rights. I don’t get it. Take Omelette’s advice: wear a mask.

And wash your hands, too, please.

Statue of Choctaw Indian, washing her hands in spring water of Abita Springs, reputed by natives as being healing waters.

In Praise of Porches

Not my grandparent’s house. I do like the porch, though.

Today, I allowed myself to think about porches. I thought about one porch in particular, a place where I spent many hours in my childhood. My grandparent’s porch. The above picture is not that house. That house from my childhood was torn down last year.

My grandparents’ front porch was an inviting place. The house didn’t have air-conditioning. Much of the year, the most temperate space was the porch, where breezes came off the bayou, and curled around the branches of the two ancient oaks on the side of the small house.

Every so often, my mother took the white Buick into town. I stayed behind as a preschooler with my grandparents who lived a short distance away from our house. Grandma was usually busy in the kitchen or the back porch, so I had to make the best of the situation by being entertained by my grandfather on the front porch. When I knew him in the 60s and early 70s, he kept to the front porch most days. He had suffered a stroke years before I was born. It left him unable to take but a few halting steps.

Grandpa liked to play little games with me. You know those little games, where one has to turn over your hand rapidly to avoid a slap from a partner. He could play endless variations of this game with me in the heat of the afternoon. The time would pass, but I tired of the games that I rarely won.

Then, grandpa, sensing my impatience, passed to his favorite activity with me which was to teach me short phrases of Cajun French. I would listen and repeat until I had the words memorized. Then, grandpa invariably insisted that I share my new knowledge with grandma. I usually preferred to walk around the house to the back of the house, finding her there on the back porch or in the kitchen.

I would say, “Grandma, *&%&#@!”

Immediately, Grandma’s head would snap around to me.

“What did you say?”, she would say urgently.

“Well, Grandma, *&&^%$$!”

“Who taught you to say such a thing?” she would tersely ask.

“Grandpa…” I would say timidly.

“Oh, no! Grandpa would NEVER say that and don’t say those words again.” she would say firmly.

Rebuked, I headed out of the back door and walked to the front of the house where grandpa sat, chuckling under his breath. This happened time after time. I never seemed to remember that grandpa’s “lessons” were definitely not appreciated by grandma or, for that matter, any other adult in my childhood.

Later on in my life, I put the Cajun aphorisms I learned from grandpa to good use. These words were good to know in junior high. I had a few unsuspecting teachers who weren’t schooled in Cajun French. With a smile on my lips, I would answer an unsuspecting teacher with “kiss my a** ” in Cajun French. When asked what it meant, I would sweetly reply that it meant “yes, ma’am” or “no, sir.”

As an adolescent, I was glad for my early porch time lessons. Grandpa had died by that time, so I couldn’t thank him properly. However, I smile a bit now when I remember his off-color lessons, as I stood by him on the front porch, as I patiently memorized Cajun French. I am grateful for the times I had with him on the front porch as well as the times with grandma on the back porch as she reacted to my words. This is just one reason why I like porches.

Once Upon a Shotgun

I like driving or bicycling through Abita Springs, the town where I live. I like to imagine living in old places, either now or in the past. Somehow, my life would be happier, more carefree, more chic if I lived in such a house as in the picture above.

It’s a shotgun house. Theoretically one could shoot a shotgun inside the front door and the shot would exit the back door without hitting anyone. Narrow houses like this were common in these parts. I think in the days before air conditioning, a house like this allowed for breezes to blow in and out more readily.

When Abita Springs was in its heyday in the early 1900s, houses such as these may have served an individual family or may have had a room for guests. The little town was known as a place for healthy living and relaxation. Some houses would have rented rooms for guests escaping a New Orleans summer. Or, I have heard, some homes were turned into small hospitals, housing yellow fever and tuberculosis patients, mainly from the city, seeking a rest cure in the country.

Although it’s not the house in the picture, there’s a house in town that was specifically set aside for tuberculosis patients. Nowadays, a baker owns the building, where Miss Jan turns out specialty cakes for weddings, birthdays, and the like. She says, without much fanfare, that the former rest home has a ghost.

Miss Jan doesn’t like to give undue attention to the ghost. She prefers to go about her business, without minding the spirit world. Occasionally she has knocks on the door in predawn hours as she preps cakes and breads for the day’s work. Or, a shove on the shoulder by an unseen hand has been known to occur. But, on the whole, the spirit doesn’t bother her much. The priest, who pastors next door, has prayed over the house, and he seems to have produced a calming effect upon the sprite.

Tuberculosis, also known as consumption, was a cruel disease. It still is in mostly undeveloped countries. Sufferers, until the advent of modern antibiotics, almost always died a slow and painful death as their lungs filled with liquid and blood. It almost always featured a wet cough and then, eventually bloody coughs, that resulted in respiratory failure.

I suppose our ghost in Abita Springs died from tuberculosis. I can imagine a ghost would want to visit the living once in a while. Perhaps, the spirit knocks on the door seeking solace for a lost life.

So, that’s where my mind went today as I looked at shotgun houses in the historic district of Abita Springs. Life in the early 1900s wasn’t all lemonade and lightness in the sweet bye and bye. There was death, too, often in an old shotgun house.

It’s Juneteenth and All is Well

I never knew about the day called Juneteenth when I was growing up. As far as I knew it was June 19. It happens to be my sister’s birthday, but that’s not of national import. I am happy for African Americans who may be celebrating their day of independence today.

For me, this year, Juneteenth means it’s the end of May. Confused? Let me explain. Until this weekend, we have had a most unusual month in Louisiana. The weather has been mild, not oppressively hot and muggy like it usually is in June. It’s been like May, warm in the day, not humid, and cool each evening

Everything in nature has responded in turn to this remarkable stretch of nice weather. In my yard, the rose bushes are full of happy buds, not drooping in indolence and shame due to heat exhaustion. The hydrangeas are blooming merrily, full of white blossoms reaching Amazonian heights. My blueberry tree was overloaded with fruit this year, much to the delight of the birds who consumed much of the harvest. I hear the din of frogs and insects in the twilight of midsummer eve as they rejoice in May days. It’s grand.

I don’t have a vegetable garden, but folks with gardens are enjoying a great harvest. In Louisiana, we don’t have a harvest in late June. Plants (and some people) usually just give up and die about this time of year in the sweltering heat. Not okra. Okra thrives in the summer heat. But, no, it’s not just okra growing in home gardens in late June. There’s still tomatoes and peppers and zucchini and corn being harvested in back yards in Louisiana.

According to the weather guy on TV, this glorious balmy month of May will end sometime on June 20 or 21. That’s this weekend. So Juneteenth is being celebrated in my house as the last day before the awful blast of Louisiana summer begins. I’m happy to celebrate the day because the days and nights of lingering May has been appreciated.

I popped a huge bowl of popcorn. I plan on watching Madam Secretary on Netflix. Why not have a Netflix binge with popcorn? That’s how I plan on commemorating the end of May. Happy Juneteenth, y’all.

News From Abita Springs

I am tired of bad news broadcasting daily into my home. What about something different? In my little town, there’s news of armadillos, coyotes, pot-bellied pigs and more.

Animals have been out and about. In the daytime, coyotes have been spotted in town, creeping out of the woods. Hide your cats, dogs, and chickens! It’s not safe. Baby armadillos about the size of pickle jars were seen scuttling across the St. Tammany Trace this past week.

A local resident reports the presence of pot-belled pigs in her yard. Who do they belong to? When will the owners retrieve the errant pigs? Will an interloper snatch them up for a Friday night barbecue? If there are updates to this developing story, I will let you know.

The children’s park and the splash pad remain closed as they have for the stay at home orders in the spring. The park will remain closed because of needed repairs. The splash pad is going to re-open most likely in July.

The Abita Springs Trailhead Museum and the Abita Springs Farmer’s Market have re-opened for Sunday visitors. One can buy fruit, veggies, farm-raised eggs and prepared foods from 11-3 each Sunday. Next door to the Museum and Farmer’s Market, the Abita Brew Pub is open with fifty percent capacity per state guidelines. The outdoor seating is quite nice under the large shady oak trees. On Sundays, there’s also live music in the pub’s outdoor space.

undefinedThe Abita Mystery House and UCM (You See ‘Um) Museum remains closed. It’s time to write another post about this eccentric site full of treasures and charms that continues to grow its displays of odd collectibles. I’ll wait until it’s open for new pictures. Until then, content yourself with the photo of the lady alligator who greets guests in the main room of the UCM house. If you can’t wait for my post, and you have access to local public television, WYES of New Orleans, will air a segment on the Abita Mystery house tonight at 7:30 and 11:30.

That’s all the news of the week in Abita Springs. Coyotes and armadillos, markets and museums, all are part and parcel of the news. I hope you enjoyed a small town news respite from the national news of the day.