Hello! I am a Louisianan now. I like it so far. I like the Cajun accent, and it feels exotic to me here. People are different in the south. The main difference I notice is that in the mid-west, people are cautious about privacy and sort of keep strangers at arms length. Here, people talk to you. They just do. And, they call you baby. Joseph doesn't get called baby, but I do, so maybe it is a bit sexist? I actually don't mind. About 90% of the people I have talked to called me either "Boo" or "Baby". We live in a small town about an hour from New Orleans which we are visiting tomorrow. I am going to check out their monthly art market to see if I would be a good fit, and then we are going to ride the trolley (my son will probably pass out from the excitement), eat beignets at the famous Cafe DuMonde, and check out the street performers on Jackson Square. I am giddy with anticipation.
Meanwhile, this is our new home. The tree in the front yard is actually two trees. A pine tree is growing right up the center of this other flowering tree. It is unusual. This house used to be a duplex, so the layout is very strange. You have to go through Joseph and my bedroom to get to the kitchen and the rec room. I'll go ahead and call that "cozy", I actually like it. It's also elevated off the ground. All the houses are down here since we are basically at sea level. There is a lot of flooding. Underneath our house somewhere is the previous's tenant's pet python. You may think I am joking, but I am not. He lost it, and I saw it the other day slithering around and moseying under our house. Every time I open a cabinet, I prepare myself for the possibility of seeing him curled up in there. It makes cooking dinner an adventure. Next time I see him I will put him in a box and take him to an animal shelter.
All over Louisiana are snowball stands. My main experience with snowballs is from when I was a kid and had a snow cone machine. I think Snoopy was featured prominently on it. Here though, they are "snowballs" and they come in wild flavors (see menu below). There is one just down the street from where we live.
Walter quickly sucked all the syrup out of his through the straw. That was a mistake. Both for him and for us.
The trees down here are big and beautiful.
Our things are all unpacked and out of boxes. I long to paint the walls, but our landlord isn't going for it. One day, when I am a homeowner my house will look like a crayon box because I will finally be able to paint the walls. I will have so much pent up "wanting to paint the walls" energy from years of renting that no beige wall will be safe. Watch out beige walls!
Also, there is a really nice interview with me up on this beautiful blog: Gallant and Jones.