Category Archives: home

Superstition With Reason

Sam turned 20 on November 4th.  She asked me to get her a cookie cake (which we do every now and then).  So I got her a Mrs. Field’s cake with balloons on it (made of frosting, of course) and with the text comprised of LSU colors spelling out “Happy 20th Birthday, Sam”.  She loved it.  It was a nice day.  The next day I had work.  When I came home I saw the red cookie cake box sitting on the counter and I peeked inside to see how much was left and I saw one piece.  But what I saw about that one piece took my breath away! Continue reading Superstition With Reason

The Lakefront

The lakefront
Jen sitting on the seawall
…is a wondrous place.  Jen and I used to go to the lakefront with Dad when we were little.  Always on a Sunday.  Sometimes Kim would come and we’d take our paper kite and fly it while we ate lunch.  Kim was a close friend of Dad’s.  They grew up together and he was at our house a lot before he got sick. He was diagnosed with cancer later on.  I think Kim’s funeral was the 2nd funeral I’d ever been to (after Rie).  We never cooked out down by the lakefront. I don’t even think they had BBQ pits down there back then.  We just picked up Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Dad brought the fishing poles sometimes and we would fish on the seawall.  Every now and then he’d bring the crab nets and we’d try and get some blue crabs (that didn’t happen too often that I remember–and if it did, usually the crabs were too small to take home).

Sitting on the seawall with Dad, Kim, and Jen was magical. Continue reading The Lakefront

My Front Porch…

Sitting on my front porch was one of my favorite things to do after a day of playing in the dirt, or walking down the street to school to run up and down the football field.  The porch was like the day’s final resting spot.  Not like a death, but more like a place for contemplation and reflection.  Sitting on the brick-laid steps I’d watch the lizards jump from bush to bush and try to guess what color car would drive by next.  The mosquitoes hadn’t quite come out for their time in the sun yet, so sitting on the steps, catching a breeze here and there, watching the cars pass, while I try to guess what’s for dinner by sniffing the air for any sign of red beans or baked macaroni seemed to be the best idea at the time.

Mrs. Reynolds would come out and put her sprinkler over by the azaleas, Continue reading My Front Porch…

By the pecan tree

When I was little the backyard was one of my favorite places to be.  There were so many reasons for this.  In the middle of the yard we had the biggest pecan tree I’ve ever seen that dropped nuts all the time.  I’d go out to play by the rowboat we had on the left side of the yard, often.  One of my favorite things to do was to turn the boat over and see what was underneath.  My dad kept it upside down and usually we just sat on it and played cards or talked but I LOVED to look and see what was underneath!  Lots of juicy worms would curl up and writhe free from the dirt along with some slugs and skinks.  I loved that!

Continue reading By the pecan tree

Where is Home?

I reside in the Midwest. “Reside” is a good word to describe my existence every day. My heart is at home in New Orleans. For those of you not from New Orleans (or even from the deep south) you may not get my attachment to my hometown. New Orleans is a different kind of city, almost its own country, in a way. The day we were traveling to Rockford was very sad for me; not only because I had to leave my family and friends and the only home I’ve ever known, but we arrived the day after 9/11. It was a remarkable day in history and a life-changing event, personally, for me. It was an unpleasant day. I continue to hold on to the belief that one day I will get back. With my dad gone now it feels even more important that I make it back home. My sister is my only sibling and I so miss my friends from so long ago. What all of us have in common, however, is that we all have a home town. Many of us leave home to go live somewhere else either by choice or necessity. My experience is only one story. What’s your story? Are there similarities in our hometowns? I’m sure there are!

Continue reading Where is Home?