In New Orleans
Denise, Sender and I have made a few trips down New Orleans way recently. Staying some with friends on Jena; some at Alexander's godfathers' apartment right in the heart of the French Quarter. Visiting as well with friends who were carefully and painstakingly re-doing their house when Katrina hit, and needless to say, don't have it quite ready for an overnight toddler guest yet. Thursday afternoon Alexander and I let D rest and took an exhaustive, and exhausting, stroller stroll around the Quarter. At the French Market he played every Senegalese drum we came across. This was quite a few as it seemed to be, besides cheap sunglasses, the main item being sold. We'd had beignets earlier in the week so we continued up to Royal, where we started searching in earnest for some much needed ice cream. We poked our heads into a little shop which was putting out good energy and asked there for directions to the nearest ice cream. "I have a popsicle in the back! Come on in, my grandson is visiting but he's napping right now," was the proprietor's response. We did. We ate an orange popsicle right there in the middle of her shop (Royal Sundries, 927 Royal Street) and I was so grateful for this very New Orleans hospitality.
Everyone needs to schedule a week in this wonderful city soon. They're coming back ever so slowly, but very gracefully and it's just a wonderful place to spend some easy time. Oh, and earlier that day I had gone down toward the Bryant Galleries location on Chartre Street, as they sell my paintings and seem to know a thing or to. I was going to ask where we could get a healthy lunch to take back to the apartment. Just shy of the gallery I met them coming out of La Boucherie (339 Chartres St.), which they highly recommended for just such a meal. I went on in and found out that Susan Sarandon had been there earlier. She had ordered the Cyprus wrap, so you know what I ordered for us, along with some delicious curry chicken salad.
On our way back from our afternoon of strollering, after a little grocery stop at the A&P and a very fun time in a little courtyard of a café, which had an old door Alexander could open and close himself and look at me through the window, and laugh at the great sport of it all, we stopped on the steps of St. Louis cathedral and watched a jazz band go to town for all us tourists. As they finished up with "The Saints go marching in," we headed back to the guy's apartment, where we found a rested Denise and made supper before a great night's sleep.
