halloween 2

No, it's not over yet!
It's like one of those movies with sequels that will never, ever go away!

A street performer chalks out the boundaries of his stage in the middle of Bourbon Street.

I asked this waitress to pose before she began her shift. The workers were pretty much obliged to be in costume, though many simply added bunny ears to street clothes—as you will see as the night wears on (and on).

The real cops were good sports about this pseudo cop, consenting to pose with her and her friends (one, like cousin Richard, from Alabama). It's starting to get dark, but there's a lot of Halloween left.

The whole point of the costumes is having your picture made in them. Apparently the glow of appreciation in another's eyes or a view in the mirror is not permanent enough.

Plenty of older cartoons got in on the act.

The irony of the Hustler Club having stained glass windows was not lost on me.

We had to pause for some sustenance. It was kind of a relief to see people not in costume. And, boy, those Gulf oysters were good. Yes, Richard is having another  martini. To be continued. . .

halloween, nola

There is a lot of territory to cover in the back 40, and I am going to overdo with photos because,  New Orleans, and a stylin' wedding. And I can't seem to figure out how to share that many photos, so here goes. It begins on Halloween eve. Yes, I know that Halloween itself means eve (of All Hallows Day), but don't give me grief. I mean the night before Halloween.
   It was genteel.

These are my cousins, Richard and his son Merrell, from Talladega, Alabama. They arrived to fete Richard's sister Glenn's son (if you can follow all this, maybe you can move to the south), who was getting married.

My cousin Glenn (Richard's sister) and her husband Michael entertained us at a restaurant called The Country Club in the Bywater. It has a pool and used to have nude swimming before it went all hetero.

We have made it to the morning of Halloween. Richard and Merrell and I went to Elizabeth's, a great breakfast joint with a notoriously long line. We waited half an hour for a table. Better to get there early.

Yes, I had the praline bacon and OMG grits, which I never make for myself but do love. Richard and I had mimosas, also. Merrell, although 22, does not drink. And when they had no change, they gave it to us in more mimosas. Which, in retrospect, may have been a mistake.

It may have been the mimosas, or the subsequent martinis, but we made friends everywhere we went that day. Especially in the Quarter, where everyone was happy to pose in their Halloween costumes.

Yes, this is Bourbon Street, the honkiest tonkiest place I've ever been. Sample T-shirt: I got Bourbon-faced on Shit Street. And that's about the size of it. Naturally, on Halloween it was really special.

If she looks like she's above the crowd, it's because shes on really high stilts, adding to the sideshow effect of the whole street and the whole day. Had I gotten any closer I would have had to put a dollar in her garter.

This mother and daughter were visiting from Milwaukee, where they know from brewski. I finally realized that people wanted the pics and started texting them to their phones. This required interaction.

backwoods greetings

 I am bemused by this picture. It's the main street of T'ville, but I can't tell where it was shot—from what direction, which end of town etc. Where's the Goose? Where's the cafe? Bill?

Enclosed in the card was the million-dollar bill from the creationist theme park in Kentucky. Yes, the one where dinosaurs are portrayed as contemporaneous with humans, about which the woman who sent me the card said how much she loved it because, "I learned so much history." Sigh. I can't even.

a grande dame

Many years ago, I think in 1977, I fled my boyfriend, driving his Fiat from Illinois to W. 78th St. in New York City, to Paula's apartment. The car was immediately towed away, of course. I slept in Paula's daughter's room—Gaby was about 7 at the time—for about three months while I looked for a job. I also began this painting of Paula, whom I had met in the People copy room.
   I found a job, wound up moving into Douglas's apartment and the painting was never finished. I cut this part of it out years later, framed it and gave it to Paula. It may have been the last painting I worked on, as I came to realize I didn't have the chops as an artist.
   But Paula and I are working on 45 years of friendship now.

family time

 Debby, Sam, Heidi and Abby pose for a family portrait.

Camilla: The difference a year makes.

Somebody gets in on the act.

Isaac is selling monsters to order.

Don't forget the dog!

great amercan eating ceremony

A new member has joined the groaning board. Baby Abby dons her turkey hat for the festivities.

ze will rock you

Inspired by my post about the new intake info [and also convinced I was going in for a sex-change operation (gender reassignment surgery?) rather than a shot for my knee], CBA sent me the above picture and the text below:

Now We Can be Confused from Cradle to Grave

The First Challenge:  The Birth Certificate!    followed by:

A Lifetime of Options: The New Age Medical Forms  and then:

The Final Bow:   This is a two person “family” monument.  You are on the left and your sex-to-be determined significant other is on the right.   Remember when Douglas registered your Fiat as Claudio Dowling?? He was So ahead of his time!

a new age

I will go back to the historical documentation of the New Orleans wedding presently, but first I  need to share.
  So I'm blithely (or, really, not blithely) filling out forms for the Hospital for Special Surgery that mostly read like intake documents for surgery which, by the way, I am not expecting to have any time soon, when I run across this section about my gender identity, preferred pronouns etc. This is the first time I have seen this on an official form. Sort of bolluxed by checking straight or lesbian, so I checked Something Else. As in, "I'm something else!"
   There was stuff about my religious practice, too. So it's just as well that I hadn't read this article about there being more Witches than Presbyterians in the US or I might have been tempted to sign on to paganism.
   And on that note, dude in Missouri thinks yoga is demonic, and people have stopped attending classes.
    But speaking of karma, here is the video about Chicken From Hell that CBA is referring to in the comments. I laughed my head off!

melting of the first snow

Hudson River, West Side Highway

flight from the north

Leaving Manhattan

Dawn in Charlotte

Rooms at the inn

Poolside by noon

Cousin Glenn arrives with Bunny Bread. Now we know we are in NOLA.

brief history 3

 I know, I know, this is going on and on and on, but I need to explain my dilatory postings. I returned home to welcome four houseguests. That's Clement, of Paris and his girlfriend Lauren, of Toronto; and Jane and Sylvain of Paris and Bretagne. The two couples didn't know one another before, but we were soon en famille. And it was impossible to know whose French toothpaste was in the bathroom.

Jane Evelyn Atwood was in New York to accept an award for documentary photography. Years ago, she and I spent the night locked into a women's prison in Nebraska for a story about, um, women in prison (!) which she did a book about.

And the winner is!

As two of the best known documentary photographers, Donna Ferrato and Jane have been friends for years.

Jane and Sylvain departed later the same day that I left for New Orleans, leaving Clement and Lauren in charge at 98 Riverside.

brief history 2

Within a week after Simon's birthday, I would be in New Orleans. But first. . .

 I waved goodbye to the kids as they got on the bus with the (no-longer-striking) bus driver. Then made a quick trip to Hannah and Chris's new studio. Yes, another new one. It was quiet that day, but is now the scene of much action as Christmas season has cranked up. Get your gifts now at Wear Your Music! from Bob Weir to Bonnie Raitt, Adam Levine to April Lavigne, Metallica to John Mayer! And so on. Do check out the new cuff bracelet. Nice! Huge!

And then, leaving the truck in Hannah's back yard,  I hopped on the train to New York. And I just can't resist showing a few pix from that beautiful ride.