I will be writing this week in a Carnival fog=
drink+king cake+parades+parties+dancing in the streets+more drink.
Forgive me for not being as witty, or overly sarcastic, or boring, or just plain old hungover (and still typing).
We are at a P-A-R-T-Y.
Today, in New Orleans, is Lundi Gras (Fat Monday), a modern-day celebration of river related events where the King of Rex meets the King of Zulu and the Mayor gives them the key to the city for 24 hours (oh oh), and citizens, arm-in-arm with visitors, go crazier then normal- or something like that.
Like this town needs an excuse?
New Orleans is on day nine, and 22 parades in (with six to go over the next 24 hours) of the two week long party that this city throws for the world- every year.
And we hosted the Super Bowl last week. (Not personally, but you get the gist).
Ben and I have attended six parties with two more to go, hosted three guests, cooked enough gumbo to feed an army (see recipes), not always successfully navigated our way in and out of our neighborhood through little known passages at unorthodox times (Can I have a ride on your hoveround Mister? I see you have a headlamp!), met new people from all over the world, and assisted a few (clean-up on aisle three!)
All-in-all, just a typical few days in New Orleans with floats and fire.
|“Throw me something, Mister!”|
|Krewe of Chaos
|Classic Flambeau carrier lighting a parade route.|