Pop Rouge Ice Cream

I am not certain if it was 'cause it's hot summer, or if I was feeling nostalgic after Mom's passing, or feeling inspired by cousin Suzy's blog post on ice cream ( http://kitchenbouquet.blogspot.com/ ), or a combination of the three, but I decided to resurrect this childhood favorite: "Pop rouge Ice-cream". Right off the bat, we hadda do a strawberry tasting to determine which current strawberry- flavored soda met our two requirements. #1. They had to be gluten-free, and #2. have that burn ya throat strong flavor of ole fashioned pop. It was fun having a soda tasting, full of giggling, tasting and retasting for comparison and judging contest, punctuated with burps of contentment, complete with an accidental shower of warm soda, until we decided to use Welch's strwawberry POP for the "P" in this simple recipe from my youth.

When I was a kid, this ice cream went with us on most all of the picnic/car trips/ bank fishing kinda outings we went on. Often, we would all load up in the car and go on a family outing. More often than not, packed in the trunk of the family car, along with picnic supplies and fishing, or crawfishing, or kite flying, etc. gear, was our ole hand-crank ice cream churn. The most oft-made product of our churning was this very simple sherbert: Pop Rouge ice cream. The reason it was most often made is, not only is it delicious, but very simple and reaquires no preparation. We usta just dump the ingredients into the churn and start cranking. The way Mom taught us to remember the simple recipe is, she used this simple saying: "E.P. C. 1. 2. 3." I guess properly written, the recipe would be:

1. 12 oz. can of Evaporated milk

2. 12 oz. bottles of strawberry soda ("POP")

3. 14 oz cans of Condensed milk

Then churn, using the "churn, rest, repeat" method 'til ya get this:

I am not sure that these pictures does this simple, delicious ice-cream justice. It tastes like a hug from my Mom, and a childhood memory come to life. I think I better serve up another dish to make sure we got it right.

The Flamingo Gag 2.0

Ok, for those of you who don't know of, or remember our "Flamingo Gag", I include this link that I dug outa da archives of our blog to jog ya memories. After ya are refreshed in your memory of just how tacky Peg and I can be, return here for this year's version. http://cappyandpegody.blogspot.com/2009/04/flamingo-gag.html
Well, here we are in 2010, and not much has changed. Our beloved neighbor's yard is still the pristine, highly manicured carpet it always is, looking 'postcard perfect', like a "wish you were here in sunny South Louisiana" tourist thing in the local plantation gift shop.

Our yard, on the other hand .... well.... just isn't. Ours more resembles the slightly unkept, tacky, tall weeds merrily waving at everybody, messy, verging on totally unkept kinda place that would star in a trailor trash weekly, if'n there was that sorta thing. Our philosophy is: if it is green and grows, let it. Being "foodies", we plant mostly stuff that bears fruit, and when the hurricanes lean stuff over, we leave it that way figgurin' its God's way of adding a rakish angle to our unkept mess.

Well, after last year's gag, imagine the horn-blowing, yelling, hooting, good-natured laughing commotion that occured last night when they got home to see this glowing pink mess Peg and I had put right across the street from their kitchen window.

This morning's view from their window will change soon, and the flamingo is destined to be a traveling companion with us in our camper. We plan to use him as a sign post of sorts, to let folks know which trailor in da campground is ours, just in case the tacky party lights we are gonna have lit on da canopy, are hard to see from the road.

Looking at it from da flamingo's point of view, it's pretty obvious he don't belong there anyways.

Nature At Work

Last hitch I noticed what appeared to be Purple Martins, edit(they turn out to be cliff sparrows) darting back and forth from a 'mud flat' to the concrete platform which was behind us. I grabbed my camera, walked to the back deck and was able to take these pictures of these hard working birds, before my lens fogged up.

I had never noticed Martins (cliff sparrows) in the wild before and wasn't aware they built mud nests like that, but Darby, the boat's mate, said he had seen a special television show about them nesting like that under the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway. They were fascinating to watch, to be sure.

While we were still tied up at that location, just after sunset as it was getting dark, my tankerman stepped out for a smoke and almost stepped on a coon who was exploring our deck for goodies. I couldn't tell who scared who the most, but they both screamed and ran in opposite directions. Every night after that while we were there, we had to put all our garbage in the engine room and 'dog' the doors closed. The heat from the engine room didn't help with the smell any, but it sure beat having to pick it back up again after this character had his way with it.

I was sitting in the wheelhouse when I saw this fella trying to sneak aboard, so I opened the door and hollered at him, and he beat a hasty retreat under the platform.

I am sure he is the reason the Martins were not nesting under there, but instead they were under the much higher living quarter platform behind me. Their nests were located where the coons couldn't reach them.

While "standing by" for the locks on the River one morning, a squawking commotion caught my attention. It turned out that a seagull had a pretty good sized fish in his mouth and was being chased around by twenty or so of his loud, screeching bretheren. They kited around for awhile 'til finally the gull eluded the chase and landed on our barge.

He struggled in vain to swallow the fish for awhile when outa nowhere swoops a Greater Egret; pounces down and snatches the prize from the frustrated seagull.

Even though the Egret was larger than the Gull, it took him awhile to swallow the breakfast treat as well.

You can see in this picture that it took the fish awhile to travel down the Egret's long and normally slender neck.

As long as I been working on boats ya would think I'd get tired of stuff like this, but I am my Father's son. He instilled in me a great joy and appreciation of nature, and I never tire of seeing it when I'm at work.

Cappy's Mom

This has been the longest time in the history of our blog between posts. I am sure our regular readers are wondering whas up, so here's da story.

After I had been on the boat a couple weeks, halfway through my hitch, I started getting phone calls from my sisters concerning our mother. As the days went by, the calls got more concerned and tearful, and I began to fear I wouldn't make it in to tell her "bye". When I got off'n da boat last Thursday, Peg picked me up and we drove straight to her. We held her hand, told her we loved her, kissed her face and prayed for her all evening 'til we just couldn't anymore. We both had only, like 4 hours of sleep, and we tearfully told Mom "bye" and we told her if we didn't see her tomorrow we would see her in Heaven. She passed away peacefully the next morning. The girls told me that they thought she had just been waiting for me.

Her funeral was Monday, and I am sure you understand why it took 'til now to post this. Mom was a stay-at-home kind of person, almost reclusive by nature, so it really surprised me at the folks who showed up at the service. My best friend, David explained it to me from his perspective. Growing up as a teenager my house was always "the" place to be. After school there was always a bunch of us hanging out listening to music and they all loved my mom. She was a true renaissance kinda gal. Amazing cook, baker. She was a very good guitar picker and always had the lil AM radio going in the kitchen. It always amazed my friends that mom knew, and would sing along with all the songs we listened to. She was a talented seamstress. I remember girls in school commenting on the shirt I was wearing and not believing me when I said she made it. This often caused them to gather round and fondle the shirt inspecting the seams and stuff and being impressed. I loved those shirts:-) Mom sent Daddy to work at least once a week with some kind of goodies for the guys he worked with. Cookies, candies, pie's and cakes, etc. My dad has been gone for 15 years, but still some of those folks he worked with showed up, and many more as well. It seems that my stay-at-home kinda shy mother touched a great many hearts in her quiet way. That is a wonderful comforting thought to help me mourn my loss and celebrate her life. Grief takes time to heal, but have no fear; we will be back to our normal happy selves soon and are already planning several blog-worthy adventures. So das where we been, sending a wonderful woman to Heaven.

Deadliest Catch Captain Phil Harris' Jazz Funeral in New Orleans

One of our favorite shows is Deadliest Catch. Even tho' the boat life that we see on this program is entirely different than Cappy's, still, he feels a kinship toward the men on these ships. They spend a lot of time away from home and their families, and it's not inconceivable that often,their lives might be in danger.

Watching the Deadliest Catch, we found ourselves liking, among others, the boat captain on the Cornelia Marie, Captain Phil Harris. He had his two sons, Josh and Jake on the crab-fishing boat with him, and thus, we got to see some fascinating relationship interplay with this group of men. It broke our hearts when last February, Captain Phil passed away.

Much to our shock and delight, we learned from the Deadliest Catch Forum, that Phil's Jazz funeral would be held in New Orleans! How could we not go, since Cappy was off the boat. We got up early on Wednesday, June 9, and headed for the French Quarter. It was beautiful, but typically HOT and sweaty. We walked along Frenchman Street til' we got to Phil's old hangout, the Blue Nile, where there was a lot of camera equipment set up, camera people, and throngs of fans like us. Then among the crowd, we began to spot members of the show's boat crew members wandering around visiting with folks. I was busy taking photos and videos...I kept being jostled, so forgive the shaky video that follows.

One of the members of the crew on the Northwestern, Edgar, walked up to Cappy and struck up a conversation. What a nice guy he is! We were strolling down the street with him toward where the parade/funeral procession would begin, so I asked him how it felt when they are out in the wide open ocean working hard, in solitude, then to come here to all this attention. He said, "Naw, we know we are great", to which we all laughed, then he continued, "No really, whenever we go back into port, everybody gathers all around us like this, so we know we must be kinda special"....but you know, he wasn't saying that in a boastful way, but almost humbled. He also said that no matter where they go, the conversation always ends up being about crabs, at which point one of the movie directors told him that he needed to get back to his group. At another point, he came back and had a nice visit with Cappy, who told him that if it wasn't for Coast Guard regulations,...the fact that he (Cappy) was shipping out the next day and could be tested for alcohol consumption, that he'd stay and have a beer with him. To which Edgar responded, "DANG!" or a sailor word to that equivilent. Oh, I tell ya, after the parade, Cappy was SORE tempted to go into the Blue Nile, where the boat crews were gathering, but he thought he'd better not. So, we came home, loaded with photos, videos and a better feeling, knowing that Ol' Phil had a wonderful send off. The rather lengthy video is over on youtube, fraught with flaws, and maybe a bit too long, but if you watch the whole thing, you may feel as though you were a part of Phil's Jazz Celebration, too. (There were a lot of professional people there and one of them quickly interviewed Cappy, so you might see him on the show...if not the little interview, then most likely in the crowd.) ...And now that we've met these men in the flesh, we are going to be worrying and praying a LOT for these guys out on the DEADLIEST Catch.

Try this link and you'll see the video of Phil's Jazz Funeral at the top of the list of all our other videos. http://www.youtube.com/user/cappyandpegody#g/u

Smokin' Sam

Peg and I loaded up da SUV and headed to town to "make groceries". We made the trip to Thibodaux, La. and went to our favorite grocer, Rouse's. Rouse's grocery store is a upscale kinda place with a great wine and beer selection, fresh local meat and seafood, and some friendly helpful staff. With very few exceptions they are generally smilin', and act like they happy to see us. While there, I called my good friend Sam and asked him if he wanted us to pick him up some pork spare ribs which were on sale this weekend. Those of yall who know us, know how much we love BBQin' and we don't call Sam "Smokin' Sam" for nothin'.

The man has a smoke house in his shed and is the "go to" guy for smokey treats in town. We already had planned to pick up a couple big hens for him to smoke for us the next time he fired up his smoke box. When we got to Sam and Louise's house, Sam was just taking a pack of pork chops out of the smokehouse and we brought over some homemade pickles and, well...thas da way it is in the country. Exchanges were made and we left there with 6 smoked pork chops, 3 of which didn't make it home. The other three made a most excellent addition to a black eye pea dish, cooked in a black iron pot. Peg says these are the best pork chops ever. I say hers are. I wonder where dat leaves my batter fried Southern pork chops? She also says they are the best ever, too. I don't know if I'm playin' second fiddle to Sam's pork chops or not...I guess it's ok, tho'; they are very good.

This afternoon several big thunderstorms moved through the area, but between showers we fired up the Jeep and dashed back across town, over to Sam's and picked up the 2 hens Sam had smoked for us. He even threw in a bunch of his smoked ribs wrapped in tin foil for 'langiappe'. The other day while we were still sound asleep, we woke up and found a pail of cucumbers outside our back door that somehow had made it across town from Sam's garden. If I know my sweet Pegody the two hens will be starring in a gumbo pretty soon. Ican't hardly wait 'til next hitch and the "gumbo-ee" and "pickley" adventures she has planned for us.

Osprey Nest

Last hitch I came across this Osprey Eagle nest in the Atchafalaya River Swamp. The pair of eagles perched way in the top of a lightnin'-struck cypress tree were 'changing watch'; (as always, click on the pictures to get a bigger, better view)

when one flew up, they visited for awhile then the other one flew off.

Kinda makes me think they were sitting on some eggs. If I pass that way again, I'll check on them and let yall know. There was a bigger bald eagle nest further down, but nobody was home. I sure hope they are ok, cause usually they use the same nest over and over. The Eagle population in the swamp seems alive and well. I saw several that day, so hopefully the empty nest was just temporarily vacant.

The One That Thankfully Got Away

Our tankerman/deckhand let fly with a long cast, with crab for bait, trying to invite a big redfish to our gally supper table. Out of nowhere came a seagull swooping down pouncing on the bait.

There arose such a ruckus that Darby, the Mate, ran out of the gally to lend a hand. He is the guy in the picture. I grabbed my camera, ran to the back of the top deck and snapped these 2 pictures.

It was a flapping, squawking, hollering mess there for awhile, but we got him cut loose. The hook hadn't got him; he was just tangled in the line.

The gull floated there for a minute collecting it's birdy wits, I guess, then flew away with no difficulty. Soon as he got air-born, he was joined by several other gulls squawking loudly as they all flew away. Ya gotta wonder: Were they congratulating him on his escape, checking to make sure he was alright, or griping him out for being stupid enough to try to eat bait, or wondering in amazement how in da hell did he get away from hungry Cajuns who had a Ginsu knife.

The Oil Spill

Lots of folks been askin' me 'bout da oil spill. Well, believe me, I could say plenty, and I may someday. It is just too painful to talk about now and, shucks, I aint no white-coated engineer anyways. I'm just a third generation "oil field trash". I got my opinions, sure, but they won't solve anything, so I'll just leave it at this.
















I hope and pray that this picture don't put an end to the next two.






















But I am very afraid that it will, for a very long time.

Bayou Teche Boat Trip

We get to travel through some really pretty places at work. and those of you who regularly read us know how much I love prowling the back waters of my Beloved South Louisiana. Bayou Teche is one of the most beautiful "rural" bayous and a true jewel of the Bayous. The banks are clean and uncluttered of the derilects and trash that you normally see, and it is a wonderful ride following the curvy Bayou north from the Atchafalaya river.

I found all the bird houses around this Gazebo interesting, I guess the owners want to attract as many skeeter-eating purple martins as possible to their shady Bayou retreat.

Many of the homes on the Bayou actually float.

Here is a neat little cottage. These folks have a lifeboat hanging over their picket fence from some boat hooks. This is either a sign of quirky Bayou folk or paranoid ones prepared for a flood.

These folks are almost tacky enough to be us.

Wonder who these folks are gonna be pullin' for come football season? Maybe the fresh purple and gold paint on their boat house is a clue.

(Lord say da same): das me and Peg's retirement home. A motorized house boat that we could pack up da dawgs and go

prowlin the Bayous in.

The Bayou does have a few tight spots to navigate through. I put this little slideshow on youtube so yall could blow it up full stream and watch me make the Jennings bridge on the boat. Like it aint a tight enough squeeze, I decided to make it trickier and drive through while snapping pictures. Here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/user/cappyandpegody#P/u/1/gHs7upEsIzk

If ya think that was a tight squeeze, here is a slideshow of us going through the Berwick Locks. Look at the bottom right and click the icon and it will blow us full screen. That is my view from the wheelhouse. I hope yall enjoy it.

http://www.youtube.com/user/cappyandpegody#p/u/O/ECkSdE-4eMM