We’re visiting our son, daughter-in-law and two young grandchildren in St. Louis for a few days. Grandpa and I are babysitting while my son and DIL work for a few days. I predict needed naps in my future, but life doesn’t get any better than this. When I hold my darling little 6-month-old granddaughter in my arms and she looks up at me and smiles, I wonder how anyone could simply not fall head over heels in love. Sometimes thoughts of my mom intrude and bring a wave of sadness. I so wish she could have met and been able to enjoy our little granddaughter. But I try to do what Mark says he does, and let the sad thoughts pass on through. I try not to dwell on them. Life is a mix of happy and sad.
I thought I’d take this opportunity to try to get my photos posted from our New Orleans trip way back in February. I’ve got this plan to create pages of the places we’ve been and I’m falling behind. In fact, I was behind before I started.
I’ve already posted After Mardi Gras, and shown you the Garden District. I’d still like to show you the photos from the WWII Museum, the Ursuline Convent and the Ninth Ward. But today I’m taking you to the French Quarter.
In the slide show below you will see pictures of the streets and throngs of people in the French Quarter the day we were there. You’ll see ironwork, historic street signs, historic buildings, and a statue of Joan of Arc. I got a shot of Lafitte’s Bar as we drove past, and you’ll see the wharf right there in the midst of the French Quarter. Of course a trip to New Orleans wouldn’t be complete without stopping at the Cafe du Monde for beignets. If you’ve never been there, the beignets reminded me of funnel cakes, another weakness of mine. We had to make a second trip to the French Quarter to get another chance at the beignets. That covers the food portion of the program.
The fear came from our brief jaunt down Bourbon Street where we were confronted with voodoo shops. Perhaps I have read too many novels about New Orleans and voodoo, or maybe it was simply the energy I felt on the street. But the killing blow was the two men sitting on the street corner trying to make money to bury what they claimed to be their dead dog, which they had on display, in an open suitcase. ( I realize it was probably a stuffed dead dog, but still.) That creeped me out. We got off of Bourbon Street at the next corner and headed to Pat O’Reilly’s bar where we quenched our thirst with Hurricanes, New Orleans style.
The whole day was fun, but in particular we enjoyed the street performers.
I hope you enjoy the slide show.