The start of my Redemption: Beauty in Brokenness ‘series’. I’m looking forward to sharing with you why I use broken shells and the personal story behind it. Just a sneak peek…. a few more shells to go!
Have a wonderful week!
A Zydeco Fan.
On a recent trip trip to New Orleans it took me several days walking around the French Quarter to figure out what was missing.
On my last tour of the city in 1999 there was a sound in the air that carried you down the street with toes tapping. It was infectious and blaring out of multiple stores on every block! That Cajun beat possessed your soul and caused anyone who heard it to dance down the street. It made the NoLa’s atmosphere as unique as the cuisine.
On my third day I realized that the toe tappin’, movin’ and groovin’ atmosphere has slipped away. Don’t get me wrong, jazz is still there and in the air, but that unmistakable sound of zydeco is just a whisper. I heard that whisper coming from The Krazy Korner on Bourbon Street. Drawn in by the sound of a washboard being slayed; I heard The Daywalkers. This band was closest thing to zydeco I had heard the whole trip. I could have stayed and listened to them for hours, but I had to leave to position myself for the Mardi Gras parade that was winding itself through The Big Easy. On my way out of the bar I did purchase one of their newly released CD’s.
Curious about the lack of zydeco in the city I asked the bellman at my hotel. When I questioned him where it went he got a very pensive look on his face. He slowly looked up at me and said that it had been years since he had heard it abundantly in city. There was sadness when he realized it was round about the time Hurricane Katrina rolled through and darn near destroyed the city. New Orleans suffered a great deal, I just hope that wonderful Cajun beat finds itself a home again in The Big Easy… I sure did miss it!
Have you ever intended to go to a special place to kick back, relax, and maybe find yourself again? I thought I’d do that here and catch up on my blogging. But, instead I found myself oddly freer of technology. When I come here I invariably always ditch the phone and computer and just enjoy nature from 16 stories up, taking in the bay and The Gulf of Mexico.
Not really motivated to do anything really. Just breathe….
of an empty nester cooking for one.
I am a bonified foodie. Everyone of my close friends know this. My pilot husband appreciates it. Loves it! He eats well!
My nest has been empty for little over two weeks now and I am struggling with cooking for just me. I find myself in a constant stage of grazing/snacking. Not anything un-healthy, just grazing because I am not inspired to cook for myself. In the past my efforts targeted my family. I cooked for them. Now that it’s just me, I have no motivation. I am moved to cook for my darling husband when comes home (18 days a month), but other than that…. nope!
Besides, cooking for one is HARD! Especially when it comes to portions. Have you ever seen a single serving sized can of tomatoes? Yeah, me neither. I see a lot of fresh produce in my future. I’m currently looking at a pineapple, 2 apples, an avocado and a bunch of bananas on my counter. I have a feeling now that my container of peanuts is gone I will have to cut up and eat some of that fruit….
Hope I figure this mess out soon. I can not survive on fruits and veggies alone!
Y’all have got to see this!!!!
an excited college football fan.
19 days!!!! There are 19 days until college football once again becomes KING! Honestly, I can’t wait! It is the hallmark of the beginning of a cherished time of year.
Don’t get me wrong, I am a summer girl through and through, but there is just something about fall. I love the change of seasons, I love the nip in the air, the color on the trees, all things pumpkin and football. Not just any football, but college ball.
I live and breathe the SEC. I am a Tiger fan. Auburn first and foremost, LSU when they aren’t in the Tiger Bowl. I love the game, the tailgate, the food the excitement, the camaraderie. I don’t like sore losers and fair weather fans. As much as I love the game I’m not going to cry and pitch a fit if my team doesn’t come out on top. At the end of the day it is only a game, one I enjoy immensely, but not so much that my week will be shattered if my games don’t go my way.
So, bring on the pom-poms, the team colors, the marching bands and the pigskin. 19 days and counting!
a heartbroken daughter.
My father passed away 21 years ago. I was 23. My heart shattered.
To this day I still grieve. How could I not, no other man would love me like he did. I don’t have any lofty, fairly tale, white knight imagery of this love either. We had our ups and downs and he could be darn right mean, but he was my daddy and I was his little girl.
When he died I was just starting to get things right. I was a young mother and on my second marriage when he left us. As much as I screwed things up from the ages of 18-23 I made up for in spades as a wife and mother. I have homeschooled two amazing daughters that are currently in college and killing it. (Both on scholarship and both debt free. I couldn’t be more proud) My husband and I have been happily married for 21 years now. He is a good man and wonderful father.
We have taken every bit of financial advice he ever gave (my father was a CPA by profession) and built our lives on that. We are debt free and have a a comfortable retirement plan in place. His fingerprints are all over our lives and he is missing it. I can’t write him and tell him how much I appreciate him and the impact he has had on our lives and our daughter’s lives. I can’t thank him.
Most days it’s not a big deal. I don’t sit and pine away everyday longing to see him. But, it’s days like today, when big things happen in our family and I want to share the joy of it with him. Today my oldest daughter is starting her last year of earning her master’s. She is debt free and on track to graduate with a 4.0. My youngest landed a job in her new town that pays better than the job she left here at home. My daddy would be so proud. I just wish I had the chance to tell him and see the look of pride on his face. I can picture it, but it’s just not the same. It’s just a void, a giant deafening black hole where his cheering section used to be.