Singing: "Own the Road Again; We Just Can't Wait to Own the Road Again"

Hey all. I've fought and fought with dis blogger and it's been giving me fits again with my photos. This is just a quick note anyhow to let ya'll know we will be heading North to "Rah-cha-cha" NY. (Rochester) The doggies won't be going with us this time. They were fun to travel with last time, but we figured, "Not this time". If we happen to run into a computer, we'll letcha know how things are going with the "Fambly" up there. Be sure when we get back, we'll have plenty of pictures to arm wrestle the blogger about.
Cappy plans on taking our 'dog and pony' show to cook authentic Cajun Jambalaya. As I'm typing, I've got Smoked Duck and Andouille Gumbo simmering on the back burner. Fall is the time when people in Louisiana begin thinking about gumbo. Cappy taught me how to make the thick stew-like type. There's another type that's more soup-like...more broth than gravy. He said he was only going to make Jambalaya up there and not Gumbo, so I'm thinking...maybe I could sneak a gallon of my Gumbo along with the Cajun sausage, Boudin, and other goodies in one of the ice chests. Hey, I'm kinda proud to be able to 'cook Cajun', too. I learned from da best, and he really likes my Gumbo. Our 'kids' up north never had me cook them File` gumbo and it's something I want to do. First I 'smothered' okra, deboned the duck, which Cappy had smoked months before, then had cut up and stuck in the freezer. I took the duck bones and made a broth from them, and made a dark chocolate colored roux. All that along with chopping tons of 'trinity' veggies to go into it took hours and now it's been simmering whilst I prepare to get ready to travel. No wonder they call it a labor of love.
HEY! What happened to my 'quick note' to ya'll?? Gosh, once I get going...
Will talk with you all later. (We'll take any 'traveling mercies prayers' that you may want to offer up for us.) We love you, Take Care, Hugs, Cappy and Pegody

911 From Cappy and Pegody's Minor Part of the World

We felt as helpless as everyone else when the tragedy struck five years ago. We first learned about it as we were driving home from northern Mississippi, singing at the top of our lungs in true Cappy and Pegody fashion. We were in our own little world, road tripping, as usual, playing our favorite CD's, munching on junk food, and just enjoying the beautifully bright sun-shiney day and one another's company. When Cappy removed the CD to replace it with another, the radio came on saying that New Orleans was shut down, and that military was everywhere insuring that there was to be no traffic, especially in and around the airport, which was also shut down. We almost stopped the truck, because we were headed toward the New Orleans area, but kept moving along at a slower pace to listen to what in the world had happened. We were thinking about turning around and heading north, when we heard that New York City had been attacked and that the Twin Towers were down. (down??!) Oh come ON! This had to be one of those stupid radio shows, like Walton and Johnson, or a remake of the War of the World; something like that. I was disgusted and was about to put another CD in when the people on the radio said that the Pentagon had also been attacked and several people were thought to have perished. What in the world had happened in the few short hours since we had gotten up, breakfasted and left for South Louisiana?? New York and Washington, DC had been attacked...And New Orleans? We had been thinking of turning around and heading north, but with this information, North was very scarey as well. We just kept heading for home in silence listening to the radio, our heads spinning, along with everyone else in the United States. When we stopped for gas, the store attendants and customers were so very quiet, but when they did speak, it was in the most tenderly polite tone I've ever heard. Nobody spoke about what was going on, but each person quietly, almost reverently said the most menial things, such as a simple, "thank you" in such a way that I felt they also wanted to hug the person as though it might be for the last time, even tho we were all strangers. We were strangers, but suddenly we all felt like close family.
By the time we had gotten home, we had gotten pretty much the full gist of what had happened that day. New Orleans had been shut down because the President had been routed there as a precaution, and the extent of the attacks was still uncertain.
Cappy had to go right back out on his towboat, so I was left with the terrible news day after day on the television. I had to channel my energy somehow, so that's how the quilt came to be. I learned of two young children whose father had died in one of the Twin Towers, and whose mother days later had died of cancer. A friend of ours, Carol, who lives in New York City knew of someone, who knew the children's family, and so delivered the quilt to them. It sure wasn't much, cloth and thread, but in every stitch I put in love and prayers. In the face of all the tragedy, it seems like so little.

The Kiss

This is a satellite view of what Cappy and I refer to as the "3127 KISS" (thirty one, twenty seven). It's the 'get-off' set of roads on the West Bank of the Mississippi River, which leads to our town, and obviously, many other places. Shown here is the Mississippi River on the left, the bridge which spans it, and 'the KISS'. I've only been in the area for five years, but I'm told that this bridge stood with a drop-off on our side for several years with no exit ramps whatsoever; nothing leading off the bridge; that the bridge had just stopped midair, perhaps an hundred and fifty feet up. The people around here called it "The Bridge to Nowhere". Apparently the politicians decided to have it go somewhere, so they put in a road down onto the West Bank. They then made two long sweeping exit ramps that looked as though they were going on west, but then fooled the traveler, eventually putting him way back onto River Road, a narrow, extremely winding, 50 mph in most places, but beautiful scenic route running all along the west bank of the River. Every time I've driven west down off that bridge, I've wished I could just keep going straight, through the woods to Route 3127; a short trip, actually, to get to my destination more quickly, rather than having to traverse the concrete acrobatics of the drive along River Road. I was thrilled to learn that an extension to 3127 had always been in the works, as a part of the bridge construction, but not to get my hopes up because it had taken years and years for the bridge itself connecting the towns of Gramercy and Wallace to have been completed.
Going east on the bridge has never been a problem for me because I always hum a little tune on the way, "Over the River and through the woods, to Gramercy we go", but that's an whole other story.
One time while Cappy and I were driving home, he had his GPS on for the fun of it, which he uses on his tugboat to see satellite views of where he is going. As we were coming down off the bridge I asked him how far Rt. 3127 was from the very end of the loops. He said it wasn't far at all, that it wouldn't take all that much road construction, as far as length to complete the trip. I said I bet from an airplane those two loops looked like lips, stretching as far as they could to get to 3127. He said, "Well, now that I look at it, I guess it does, but there are railroad tracks between them, too". I said, "It's almost as though this road wants to kiss that road, so badly". From then on whenever, for instance Cappy has called me when I'm on my way home, if I'm on the bridge, or in those loops, I'll tell him I'm at the "KISS", or headed toward the "KISS".
But now! Everyone in the region is so very excited (merchants along River Road notwithstanding, I'm sure) because they are actually working on the extension to 3127!! They appear to be ahead of schedule; however the work isn't expected to be finished for a year or more. As Cappy puts it, "Nobody in our town has planned their maiden voyage just yet. They still have to build another bridge over that set of railroad tracks".

Said the Spider to the Fly

(This picture does not do her justice, as to her size; she is actually about 3 times bigger than this picture of her, in reality.)Well, it was on the news today; another person has died as a result of being bitten by a mosquito carrying the West Nile disease. It was the lead story. Not a most pleasant topic to fix one's mind on first thing in the morning. Bugs. Louisiana has plenty of them. Not all of them are pests, tho. When I first moved to South Louisiana, I noticed that the mosquitos were more clever and sneakier than their slower, but still pesky, cousins to the North. In New York State when you want a 'skeeter' dead, you just reach around and swat it. It stays there 'til you do. Not so down South. If you can't reach the varmit in a nano-second it will perform some of the most incredible flying escape acrobatics imaginable. Scientists say that UFO's cannot exist because they defy the law of physics; primarily astrodynamics. You just can't be going full speed in one direction, turn a sharp 90 degree turn, then drop down at another 90 angle, all the while increasing speed. I don't know how UFO's navigate, but these mosquitos have them beat. And sometimes I swear they can wear 'cloaking devices'. This last couple of days there've been a couple in the house that I just couldn't get. Dang it. The other night while I was watching television, a curious thing happened. Were my eyes deceiving me? On the end of the coffee table sits a little plant. Somehow a small spider had been busily building a fancy web that was strung from the plant to the edge of the television. When I watch television at night, I usually have all the lights off and notice that those darned mosquitos keep buzzing around the light of the screen, but I can never get them. Hmmm. Apparently this industrious little spider had taken note of the fact and decided to set up shop there. Now I was more interested in what was going on in front of the television, rather than what was on it. I let the little fellow finish his fancy little web, then watched as he walked to the center of it, curled up into an inconspicuous-looking little 'ball', and sat there 'hidden' in plain sight. His trap was set. I don't know who was more excited about the prospect of him catching one of those miserable mosquitos. I almost looked forward to watching one land in his net and begin screaming, like they loudly do in my ear when I'm trying to sleep. I wanted to see that mosquito flail around yelling his little head off while I clapped and said, " Yah! That's what you get for biting my face when I'm alseep. That's for parading around in front of the tv like a wise guy while you eye us up, the dogs and me, looking for the best landing approach. We GOTCHA!" I fell asleep on the couch waiting. The next day I was outside hanging out the laundry, with pretty colorful dragon flies flitting around. Cappy had told me early on not to be afraid of them because they grow so huge down here. He said folks around here refer to them as "Mosquito Hawks". I kept calling them mosquito 'jets' for a long time. I got so I loved watching how they would come around, sit on my clothesline, fold their front little 'paws' together, turn their little heads almost as though they were looking directly at me as if to ask, "...You got any skeeters for me?" One time while I was trying to plant something, a particular mosquito kept pestering me. Suddenly a dragon fly flew right in front of me and whisked away the offending blood-sucker. Well, that touched my heart. They've been my buddies ever since.
While I was hanging the laundry yesterday, the lawn was still kind of wet from recent rains. All at once I felt the now familiar 'sting' of a fire ant on my bare foot. Oh no! I looked down and saw that there was only one on my ankle. They usually work as a team, letting the whole village sneak onto a person's legs before the 'mayor' yells "NOW! Everybody bite NOW!!" But this time there was only one, but I could see more looking around for my flip flops. I musta looked pretty stupid dancing and hopping around while I was hanging the rest of the clothes, trying to avoid anymore scavanging passengers. This morning, bright and cheery, I went out to fetch my fresh smelling laundry, but at the last second checked to see if I could see any of those danged ants spoiling for another go-round. Nope, not today. Gorgeous out today, too. Bright blue sky, no clouds. I decided to go to the far end of the clothesline and work my way in, so I breezed that way. All at once somebody was screaming and flailing. It was me. I had walked into a giant spider web, made by a non-poisonous Banana Spider. It was made with thick shiny 'silk' threads. There was an huge butterfly encased cacoon-like in there with me. The butterfly had given up, but I didn't. The spider's body was literally 4" long and that didn't include it's long legs. I thought she had me for sure! I was shrieking and jumping, and waving my arms all over. The sticky,thick web was in my hair, all over my clothes and laundry. In all my commotion I must have knocked her out, cuz there she lay in the grass on her back. I yelled at her, "Don't you ever do that again!" I hoped she wasn't dead. She wasn't; I had gone back out later to fetch the remainder of laundry and saw that she was gone, banished back to the banana patch. She left her butterfly there, tho. Too bad she had gotten greedy. She had seen me I guess, and like any good Cajun spidey, she just wanted to live off the fat of the land.

One Year, and We Still Miss Her.

Today marks the one year anniversary since Hurricane Katrina devastated the Gulf Coast. There's still a lot of craziness going on in New Orleans. I've only been over there a few times since last year, being confused, to this day about how the City is doing. The area around the French Quarter, while not yet thriving, seems to be doing better. Still, I got the strange feeling, even while walking along sunny streets, amongst the tourists, as though Nola (New Orleans, LA),the Great Southern Belle, as I like to call 'her', was not at home. A lot of her things were there. The Natchez Riverboat, all white and red and shiny sitting out on the River, a few scattered artists with their brightly colored ware in full display, the sounds of that distinctive Naw'lins music could be heard wafting around street corners here and there, the flower-adorned donkeys standing in the heat, parked in front of Jackson Square, ever patient, waiting to take customers for a carriage ride, and the luscious smells of warm pecan pralines being made. A lot of her things were there; she had company who had come to visit, but it just felt like she wasn't home. It's as though we are still waiting for the intangible, yet somehow almost tangible 'Nola' to show up.
I remember the night I felt she had died. Cappy, the dogs and I were driving back from NYS, having gone to let things kind of settle around here,after Hurricane Katrina, and waiting til the next storm, Hurricane Rita, took her turn at pummeling our area. A terrible tag-team for Southern Louisiana and the surrounding states. We were driving home in a hoard of traffic, which was also headed back to the New Olreans area, having been told that it was alright to do so. Other than the headlights and tail lights of the vehicles, ("diamond necklaces and ruby necklaces") everything was pitch black outside. It had been extremely dark since ...where?Alabama along the coast? (We were exhausted, having driven all day.) Suddenly I sat bolt upright in my seat. Have you ever known something in your 'knower', when there's no way you could possibley know the thing? I have on several occasions, and especially just then. There was this feeling of something Evil out the window towards the left sky. (don't let me lose you now) I tried to shake it, but my skin was crawling, my hair standing on end and the invisible whatever out there felt too familiar. The only way I can describe it was it seemed like an HUGE invisible 'octopus', or 'squid'...something terrible with tentacles had grabbed the surrounding area and utterly squeezed the life out of it, for which it seemed delighted. (Did I actually write this all 'out loud'??) I turned to Cappy, who also seemed on edge, and not slumbering. I asked him,"Do you feel that??" He said, "Yeah, I wonder where we are." Just then we noticed trees; whole acres of them broken off like snapped matchsticks. That was just the beginning of the tree damage. It went on for what seemed like forever. I wondered if the other people in the traffic stream could feel what we did. They certainly could see the storm damage. That night we saw all kinds of devastation and destruction. We had to cross a bridge that is about 22 miles long across the Lake. I don't know what the smell was, but the stench in the air was so horrible, I put the turtleneck sweater I was wearing up over my nose the whole way. Something like that can really cause your imagination to run amuck. So many people died, were misplaced, mistreated, heartbroken during that time last year, and many of the survivors are still suffering , trying to survive and create a new life in this world. The television stations are covering the local memorial services, wall-to-wall. It's sad to say, but even in the midst of trying to "Re-New Orleans", there are still folks who are standing in the rubble of the City, throwing mud at one another. And listen...ya'll really don't want me to drag out my soapbox and go to preachin' about what I think about the politics of the whole thing. Lemme get back to my point, here. (Where'd I put it...?)Since that night last Fall, and until now, I've felt as though Nola is away. It's as though she's a dear relative who is in a coma somewhere, who could at anytime rise up, hug her guests and begin serving them tea, asking where they are from, and how they've been, "Sha".

But I Don't Wannnna Be a Cowboy.

Well, now that I've been feeling better, I've tried to get back on track with everything again. Since finishing the den, I've been camping out in the computer-"slash"-guest room, having torn the bedroom apart in preparation for 'de-constructing' and remodeling in a style totally different from Cappy's den, which I love, but want something more light in color and open in feeling, if not in fact. (We live in what Cappy refers to as a 'shoebox'.) One of the first things I had to do was purchase storage racks and baskets for the clothes in the closet, because the closet is the first thing on the list to be torn apart. Cappy and I usually go together when we shop at the big home improvement stores, but him being out on the boat, I put on my big girl overalls with a tape measure hung on the pocket, list in hand, and swaggered across the parking lot like John Wayne. Too bad there weren't swinging doors; I coulda barged into the place like I owned it, doors flapping behind me. I was gonna look those guys dead in the eye and let 'em know I mean business, not let them double-talk me about pneumatic explosive nail drivers or double hung stud finders....none of that stuff. I pretty much knew what I was looking for, all I hadda do was find it. I mosied to the back of the store and found what I needed, but dang if I didn't come up short and needed to ask for help. A tough-lookin' gal in a red 'get-up' said she could help, but then called a guy to come answer my questions. I steeled myself. I pushed back my shoulders, stuck out my chin and waited. Waited some more. Waited some more. Relaxing a little, I looked around wondering where everybody went...did all the mens dive behind the bar when I strode through the front door with a chip on my shoulder? Just when I was about to give up, some 'dandy' pranced down the aisle toward me, all smiles. (I think they hone their timing til they see the customer begin to wilt and are more vulnerable...then they pounce.) I've gotta say he was pretty witty and entertaining, but he couldn't answer my questions, so he called another dude on the phone to come help me. As he was flitting away, he turned back and said in a mock provocotive tone, "...Ya know...I could hang around here with you and wait til the other guy shows up?" I musta taken off my tough guy exterior when I wasn't looking. I clinked my spurs together, stiffened my spine again and said, "No, but thanks for offering." Just then a deep voice said, "Well, I can hang around with you and wait til the other guy gets here, too." I turned and saw an older man sitting on one of those motorized scooters, leaning back on one arm, other arm extended over the steering wheel, as though it were a hot red convertible, complete with a 'hubba-hubba' backseat. I smiled and was about to joke that his shirt had lost a few buttons, but then decided it might embarrass him. I told him the same thing I had told the 'dandy'. He drove on. While I was muttering to myself that I'd probably be waiting forever on this next store helper, a man looking to be in his 50's strode around the corner and jokingly asked me what it was I was looking for anyhow. (anyhow??) And this man had his pale green shirt unbuttoned almost halfway down his front, exposing his hairy grey chest like the guy on the scooter.....oh WAIT...it was the 'scooter guy'... walking around. He said, "I reallly will wait around with you til the guy shows up." Suddenly I got the feeling that this was his 'supermarket'...his 'bar'....and he was a 'lounge lizard', cruising the back aisles of the hardware section looking for gullible females. Well, by that time I was totally disarmed and disoriented. I humored him a few minutes with chit-chat about remodeling, etc., then high-tailed it outa there with the shelves and baskets I had already found, unanswered questions flying in the breeze behind me, paid for my purchases and slinked back across the parking lot. Next time I'll up the ante; I'll go back as Arnold Schwarzenegger.

It Was Too Hot For Them to Wear Their Capes and Wings, But I Know They've Got 'Em.

Cappy mentioned in an earlier blog about our wonderful neighbors. Awhile ago, I was too ill to get out in the heat and take care of the lawn. It really got out of hand. I finally hired one of the boys in the neighborhood to mow it, etc., but by then it would've taken the poor kid two days by himself. It was blistering hot out when he began. Before long I heard all kinds of noise out in the yard. The neighbors had two riding lawn mowers going, a weed-eater, and a push lawn mower!! These folks never cease to amaze me. I wobbled out with glasses of ice water for them and tried to snap a few pictures, but the first ones were cloudy because when the camera came from inside, in the cool house, to the hot steamy outside air, the lens fogged up. I had to giggle in spite of myself because these ladies don't mow at a regular clip, but race around in high gear, and do a professional looking job, too. What was so cute, tho, was that there was so much energy going on out there, that at one point it looked liked the two ladies, Sonia and Maggie, almost had a high speed collision. Hah! They can go around corners on two wheels, those gals!
Sonia's husband, Jude, is also amazing. For being as busy as he is, he has a heart for helping people. Not just friends and family, but people he doesn't even know. Last year he was awarded for his outstanding merits. I'm telling you, if this man chose to be a snob, no-one would be surprised because of all his achievements, but he's not. He's warm,open, funny and did I mention, a good neighbor? Out there in that heat, like that...wow.
This is "Mr. Brett", Maggie's son, who will be taking care of our yard, now, til it gets cooler around here.

Out and About in a Boat

This was one of the last days when son, Dan, and our granddaughter, Destiny ("Desi") were here visiting with us. Instead of the usual things tourists see, we took them on a tour wa-a-ay out in the back bayous where few people get to go; deep in the Achafalaya River Basin. What a rollicking good time we had!



This bird is called a Spoon-billed Rosette.
Desi especially liked the water hyacinths, but Cappy dreads them cuz they choke the waterways. They are beautiful, tho.
Cappy brought along some of his fried chicken for lunch. Yum.

After lunch, we wandered around taking in more beautiful scenery. I had a picture of Desi 'driving' da boat, with her Grandpa, but dis blog ate it; however she turned out to be a fine navigator, using his maps. It so serene and quiet back there away from civilization, but, alas, you can just bet that as soon as we got to where they guys thought they might find a signal, Cappy was on the cell phone telling friends and family what a fun time we were having, and Dan was on his pocket computer probably doing the same. You can take da boys outa da city....but you know, somehow, their electronics are going with them.

A Piece of Peace

(Finally the powers that be got the blogsite working again...I have missed Ya'll)

The media news today has been so filled with such misery and forboding. Many people are predicting something terrible in store for tomorrow, August 22, 2006. I'm one who can allow myself to easily get 'rattled'...IF I allow it. It reminds me of hearing a story about my late Uncle Dick Ludwig, who had recently moved into a nice neighborhood during the height of the cold war in the '50's. People were actually digging bomb shelters in their backyards. When one of his new neighbors approached my uncle and asked him if he was going to build a bomb shelter, he said he already had one. Well, that stunned the questioner. He turned his head this way and that, looking all around trying to see what Uncle Dick was referring to. " Whaaa....Where? We didn't see your yard dug up or anybody working on it." My uncle paused, reflected, then looked the man straight in the eyes and said, "My Bomb Shelter is Psalms 91".

You, who dwell in the Shelter of the Most High, who abide in the Shadow of the Almighty, say to the Lord, "My refuge and fortress, my God in whom I trust."

God WILL rescue you from the fowler's snare, from the destroying plague, WILL shelter you with pinions, spread wings that you may take refuge; God's faithfullness IS a protecting shield.

You shall not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that roams in darkness, nor the plague that ravages at noon.

---->Though a Thousand (people) fall at your side, Ten Thousand at your right hand, it shall NOT come near you. <------
With your own eyes you will look and see the wicked punished.

You have The Lord for your refuge; you have made the Most High your stronghold. No evil shall befall you, no affliction shall come near your dwelling, for God commands the angels to guard you in all your ways. With their hands they shall support you, lest you dash your foot against a stone. You can walk upon a lion or a snake, but trample them both.

"Because he has set his love upon ME, therefore I will deliver him; I will set him on high because he has known My Name. He shall call upon Me, and I WILL answer him; I WILL be with him in trouble; I Will honor him. With long life I will satisfy him, and show him My Salvation."


Cappy and I don't 'preach' on our blog; we never have, or try not to. We try to live by our beliefs rather than trying to cram them down anyone's throats. My thought is that, despite having done all...when all bets are off; when things look hopeless...I'm banking on Peace. I need inner peace to keep healthy even. But for anyone we may offend with this particular blog posting, I just want you to know that I don't claim to have all the answers. I only know what works for me. Sometimes I've cried so hard during terrible times, crawled out of bed or from whereever, and literally stood on the Word. Stood on the Promises, asking forgiveness for things I had done wrong, but stood there on my Bible in desperation. And He answered me. He worked it out. He always does. He's our Bomb Shelter. Peace. Shalom.

I've Been Trying to Beat the Maritime Doldrums

...And now I've been fighting with this Blogsite; it hasn't let me, and other people as well, upload our pictures on here. It was fun having Dan and his family here for the Family Jambalaya, and I planned on telling Ya'll all about it, but when I can't include photos, it's just not all that fun. Then to make matters worse, after all the festivities, everybody went and left me all alone here with just the dawgs again. Cappy has to be on the boat for 7 whole weeks! But...when he gets off dat boat, we are planning on heading north again to visit family who didn't get to come down, and for Cappy to cook a big Jambalaya for them, like he did down here. Most everybody up there has never had real Cajun Jambalaya, so they are in for a real taste treat, not to mention tons of hugs. Until I can wrestle some photos onto this page, I'll just give you the link to the family webpage where you can see the "goings ons" of our last annual family reunion aka Jambalaya. (The first pictures are of the Friday night get-together where Cappy and assorted family and friends help prepare seafood courtboullion, pronounced 'coobeeyawn'. My friend, Melissa made this fantastic punch with a tropical 'punch', if ya get my drift. YUM!) http://cajuncousins.photosite.com/jam06/