Month: February 2026

“Lundi Gras King and Queen”

Monday, Lundi Gras, was a big day for our group.  We had brunch at Commander’s Palace.  We were seated in the same booth we had when celebrating Campbell and Molly’s engagement.

I loved my pulled pork benedict, paired with the three little soups appetizer (including turtle with sherry) and the bread pudding souffle with whisky sauce.

Other folks had eggs Sardou and tournedos of boeuf.  Those who had eaten at Commander’s before commented that the food seemed even better than ever.

We made a quick trip upstairs to say hello to Fred and his family – standing reservation for two tables for eight people.

This was my request from the band roaming around the restaurant and taking requests:

Julie was presented with a toque to celebrate her birthday (not really but the original trip that didn’t work out was for her birthday.)

As we were readying to leave, Ti (one of the two owners) stopped us for an announcement – Marco and Julie had been chosen as the King and Queen of Lundi Gras.  They were helped into their capes, masks and crowns before parading through the room.  What a treat!

Marco really got into the parading through the room part:

What an amazing experience.  It was so much fun to share our wonderful local establishment with new people.

After some regroup time we were able to enjoy a bit of some night parades.  Orpheus always impresses with the illuminated floats.

Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) began early with the assembling of the “Buttercup walking krewe.”  Several new members joined this year – Hugh, Sarah, Patrick, and of course our guests.  We had a blast parading down St Charles Avenue to Canal street.  I laughed as we stopped for Greg to do repairs -he travels with a full set of tools – battery powered screw driver, hot glue gun – who knew.

From Canal Street we paraded down to Harry’s Corner bar at Charters and Dumaine.  Here’s most of the group there:

The French Quarter was quite a scene with all kinds of impromptu bands and groups parading around.

I hope that Julie’s question on arrival, “What is it that you really like about living here?”, was answered over the few days they stayed with us.

Marco and Julie made their way back to our home and caught an Uber for their flight home.  Vince and Lori departed on Wednesday morning.

Wednesday and Thursday were very much catch up days – cleaning up and attending appointments that had been pushed out until after Mardi Gras (when we can easily exit the box and drive to them.)

Diana got energetic and had pickleball with Laurie early Friday.  Then Kenny picked us up for lunch at the new Cuban restaurant on Freret Street, Cafe Conmigo.

We enjoyed the Cuban sandwiches, croquettes, pastries coffee and drinks.

Chandler, one of the folks operating the place, had recently visited San Sebastian for “research” on the new Basque restaurant he’s part of opening in mid-March.  We got a couple of great recommendations for our trip.

We finally found some energy on Saturday morning and headed out for a run/walk in the park.  The humidity was almost 100% and fortunately there was a slight wind and the temperature was mid 70s.  Nothing compared to what’s to come but a bit of a shock to the system this early in the year.  We ran into Kenny doing laps on his bike.  He was looking forward to Kara’s return from Italy on Saturday evening.

After the park we stopped by Denny’s to return some things and do some final planning for our upcoming trip.

We invited Kenny and Kara to join us for music in the sculpture garden at the New Orleans Museum of Art (NOMA) on Sunday afternoon.  The chilly weather meant the event was moved inside the museum.

Sir Chantz was quite entertaining – singing over multiple octaves, playing a great trumpet, dancing, tap dancing and performing double back flips – he did it all at a high level.

Here’s something from his larger band – they spend a lot of time touring in Germany:

Sir Chantz was followed by the Wes Anderson IV quartet.  Such a wonderfully sweet and smooth trombone tone.

After music, Kara (just back from Turin and Milan on Saturday night) suggested a visit to The Bell.  None of us had been and thought that sounded like a great idea.  This is a gourmet British pub.  I had heard Sir Paul McCartney visited when last in town – so should be good enough for us.

I was explaining what a Scotch egg was to Kenny when the waitress burst my bubble by telling me there were none left after the Sunday brunch rush.  Ugh.  However, the hush puppies, trout dip, and fish and chips that we shared were all excellent.  The “turbo” gin and tonic also seemed to be much appreciated.  As the driver, I decided any drink with a “turbo” rating probably wasn’t for me and stuck to my diet coke.

That may be one of the more action packed weeks in a while.

My first book (Mardi Gras recovery days involved a lot of quiet reading) this week was “Tilt” by Emma Pattee.  I enjoyed this read very much, finishing in less than 24 hours.  I didn’t find out until after reading that Pattee is an environmental writer, and that makes a lot of sense now.  Here’s an online summary:

“Last night, you and I were safe. Last night, in another universe, your father and I stood fighting in the kitchen.

Annie is nine months pregnant and shopping for a crib at IKEA when a massive earthquake hits Portland, Oregon. With no way to reach her husband, no phone or money, and a city left in chaos, there’s nothing to do but walk.

Making her way across the wreckage of Portland, Annie experiences human desperation and kindness: strangers offering help, a riot at a grocery store, and an unlikely friendship with a young mother. As she walks, Annie reflects on her struggling marriage, her disappointing career, and her anxiety about having a baby. If she can just make it home, she’s determined to change her life.

“Shocking and full of heart” (Publishers Weekly, starred review), Tilt is a “moving adrenaline rush” (The New York Times Book Review) and “epic odyssey” (NPR) about the disappointments and desires we all carry, and what each of us will do for the people we love.”

My second book was “Wreck” by Catherine Newman.  I enjoyed the style, humour, and characters a lot and look forward to reading other Newman books.  This reminded me a lot of Anne Tyler and a bit of Elizabeth Strout.

An article in the newspaper advertising an upcoming performance of an opera by Terence Blanchard reminded me of this classic post Katrina album:

Something from the great John Mooney:

Two completely different offerings from New Orleans musicians.

I was amazed by the skill and musicality of this bass player:

“Mardi Gras Part 1 – Tim and Dee”

8am pickleball started out Diana’s week as has become customary.  I really love the pre-alarms that go off prior to that.  After that, we headed out to run some errands – return something (maybe a dress) to the UPS store, pay too much to get a duplicate car registration document since the Office of Motor Vehicles hasn’t been able to mail me one in almost a month, go back to the brake inspection garage to get the official tag (good for another two years), and pick up some groceries at the Rouse’s on Freret Street.  A relatively productive outing.

After Rouse’s, we decided to walk across the street and have a coffee at Mojo.  There was another set of three youth behind the counter.  They were all engaged in a conversation about whether they had enough towels and completely ignored me for several minutes.  I turned to walk out and one of the hipster youth finally agreed to take my order.  The coffee at Mojo is very good once you get to order.

Temperatures were warmer on Monday afternoon and so we got some outside Mardi Gras prep done.  I put up the Mardi Gras flag and we practiced erecting our new shade that will save our parade spot.  So much easier and quicker than the old one we’ve been using.

Diana made a Mardi Gras flower at Laurie’s studio on Sunday – isn’t it pretty?  She hung that after we took the shade down.

You can see it in the left hand window above the porch.

You can also see the latest silly blow up thing that Diana was very pleased with and entertained by.  A highland cow ready for Mardi Gras – were do you get this stuff?

A little bit of work on the front door lock – it has been problematic these last few months – and it was time to head back inside.

“Take this Waltz” starring a very young Michele Williams and Seth Rogen was a movie that I enjoyed quite a bit on Monday evening.

Lunch after Tuesday pickleball clinic became difficult.  We came up with three local places and none of them were open on Tuesdays.  Monday used to be the common day to close, but many places are now catering to visitors staying for a long weekend and closing on Tuesday instead.  We finally decided on Rum House – always easy and good.  I walked over from Aidan Gill after my haircut and Diana met me on my walk.  It was a nice day for the walk home.

In the evening, I dropped Diana at Nina’s new apartment.  She took over some flowers and wine and I know Nina was pleased to show off her new place.

Wednesday morning yoga was followed by a drive over to Jefferson hospital for a Diana appointment, and then a stop at Rouse’s to get some last minute supplies for the Harvey visit.  The typical run before yoga didn’t happen as it was raining pretty heavily.

Jefferson hospital medical complex was our destination in the afternoon for a McD appointment.  We followed that with an equally exciting visit to Rouse’s for Mardi Gras visitor supplies.

Diana had pickleball clinic again on Thursday morning.  This week was a tournament and she came in 3rd place with a medal to prove it.

I picked up Tim and Dee at the airport on Thursday afternoon and we enjoyed an early dinner at Tim’s favourite Juan’s Flying Burrito.

Tim and I set up our parade spot at Aunt Suzie’s and then treated ourselves to a frozen Irish coffee at the Red Dog Diner:

Tim thought the Red Dog head looked a lot like his beagle, Buddy.

Our next event on Friday was lunch at Commander’s Palace.  We had a wonderful lunch and everyone loved their food and experience.

Deirdre had a chuckle at the poufy souffle being pierced to pour in the whiskey sauce.

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Here’s an after lunch picture in the lush courtyard:

The evening brought on the first Mardi Gras parades for our guests.  Tim was raring to go:

I was amazed at how much he got into collecting loot (throws) from the floats.

Including some light up things from Cleopatra:

We had a great Lyft driver, Patricia, who handily got us “out of the box” and into the French Quarter on Saturday lunchtime.  She dropped us at Jean Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop – the oldest operating bar in New Orleans.

We rambled down Bourbon Street from there and arrived at the Peychaud’s patio where we had a nice drink and shared a cheese and charcuterie plate.  Dee enjoyed her Pimm’s cup:

I snapped this picture on Royal Street – a gig for Giancarlo?

We headed back home in time to see the afternoon parades and meet up with the horde that had gathered – Denny, Anne, Thom, Alex, Randy, Amy etc.  I enjoyed the Trombone Shorty float and band.

Kenny and Kara brought some yummy muffulettas from Central Grocery which were quickly inhaled by the horde.

Our guests departed on Sunday morning and we made our leisurely way back around to the afternoon parades, which were running very slowly and very late.  Diana always enjoys the rolling Elvii:

We retired a little early and kinda watched the Superbowl – neither one of us really invested with either team.  I was supporting the Patriots until I saw the pre-game interview with their quarterback.  Turned out he did not perform well at all and Seattle won easily.

That was a busy few days!

My book this week was “The Sense of an Ending” by Julian Barnes.  I’m about half way finished – which I think is respectable given all the distractions.  I am enjoying this one and hoping it picks up a bit in the second half.  Here’s an online summary:

“BOOKER PRIZE WINNER • NATIONAL BESTSELLER • A novel that follows a middle-aged man as he contends with a past he never much thought about—until his closest childhood friends return with a vengeance: one of them from the grave, another maddeningly present.

A novel so compelling that it begs to be read in a single setting, The Sense of an Ending has the psychological and emotional depth and sophistication of Henry James at his best, and is a stunning achievement in Julian Barnes’s oeuvre.

Tony Webster thought he left his past behind as he built a life for himself, and his career has provided him with a secure retirement and an amicable relationship with his ex-wife and daughter, who now has a family of her own. But when he is presented with a mysterious legacy, he is forced to revise his estimation of his own nature and place in the world.”

The wonderful book “The Correspondent” inspired me to write my first letter in a while.  Poor David’s Pub, south of downtown Dallas, is closing in a couple of months and I decided to write a letter to David Card, owner and operator for the last 45 years.  I told him about my favourite performances at his club over the years and how much it had meant to me.  And, as Virginia Evans says in her book, you are likely to get a reply.  I received this note back from “Poor David, himself:”

I’ll leave you with this interesting song that I heard on the soundtrack to “Honey, Don’t”, a strange and somewhat depressing film.

“Brrr!”

Diana’s week started again with 8am pickleball, and again it was cold and early.  She cooked up the oysters from Frank on Monday afternoon – I had suggested using a muffin pan and Diana found a recipe that was designed for that – lots of garlic, butter, parmesan and a little spinach make most things taste good.  These were delicious.

The Tuesday pickleball clinic happened as usual.  This week I met Diana at Aroma for lunch.  This is a nearby Indian restaurant that I enjoy.  The flavours are so well done.  We shared a couple of appetizers – Gobi Manchurian (Gobi are cauliflower florets and the Manchurian has garlic, ginger, chilies, onions, and peppers) and vegetable pakora (not my favourite version of this), and then a yummy butter chicken and butter garlic naan.  I need to visit this place more often.

I am enjoying this routine of visiting a walking distance restaurant after Tuesday pickleball.  I have a few more ideas queued up.

The Tuesday puzzle made me smile – there was a Topsy Turvy land book that I enjoyed as a kid that I remember well.

A similarly clued answer on Wednesday made me smile as I remembered my turtle attacked by snails joke:

Oops – I skipped ahead with that Wednesday puzzle update.  I did not make it to trivia on Tuesday evening, and the small team still pulled off a win.  Kudos to Kenny for driving to a zero point wager on the final question when he realized the team didn’t know the answer – we have a bad habit of betting the full twenty points when we’re not sure and dropping quickly down the rankings with the lost points.

I drove Diana over to yoga on Wednesday morning and took a lap around the park.  In the afternoon, we made the long (18 minutes of so) drive over to Jefferson hospital for Diana to meet with the orthopedic folks.  Her back is hurting again in a different place.  She’ll have an MRI after Mardi Gras and we’ll take it from there – a frustratingly slow process.

Diana decided on another pickleball session on Thursday morning – it’s chilly outside and this allows her to get some exercise and fun inside.  She met me at the HiVolt coffee shop afterwards and we shared a root veggie bowl – very tasty and filling.  I really like this painting that they have in there:

And I continue to be so thankful for all these independent coffee shops that I can walk to, serving good drinks and food.

After lunch, Diana drove over to her annual eye exam (all good- no new lenses required) and then stopped in to try and pick up the ring that she was having resized.  The ring was too big and then she got trapped in the jeweler parking lot due to a Jaguar with an issue that required a tow -unreliable British cars at the core.

As I was leaving HiVolt for the walk back home, I got a call from Steve Washwell.  I worked with him more than 25 years ago at EDS in Silicon Valley, and we share the same birthday.  I hear from him every few years, and we always have an entertaining  catchup.  Having walked past “Down the Hatch” a few times on my way to HiVolt, I decided to give this divey looking bar a try as a place to relax and catch up with Washwell.   A very relaxing and quiet patio out back was perfect for my catchup.  Steve didn’t know we had moved to New Orleans and was excited to hear the details of that.  He has a bucket list desire to attend the Bacchus Ball and I just might have a contact that could make that happen for him.

I mentioned to Kenny that I enjoyed my visit and saw some good looking burgers that folks were having for lunch.  We should put it on our list.

He took my up on that for Friday lunch.  I walked over to French Truck for my relaxing morning coffee in the morning, while Diana was at pickleball again.  The trio behind the counter were quite annoying – entitled youth cutting up and doing that explosive laughing thing.  Not what I wanted to accompany my relaxing coffee.  I committed to wait five minutes before telling them to sssshh.  Fortunately they got busy and didn’t have time for their nonsense for a little while.  I know Diana would be proud of my restraint.

The burger that I split with Kenny at Down the Hatch was very good, and we had a nice visit.  A new local place to put on our rotation for a casual lunch and drink with a good patio.

Meanwhile, the little monsters were taking part in the Friday protest about ICE and their tactics:

Saturday was our coldest so far, and of course Nina’s move in day.  I suppose cold temperatures are better than brutally hot for moving?  We usually like to watch Krewe de Vieux (the most irreverent of our parades and the most politically hard hitting) in the Marigny on Saturday night – this year it was just too cold for that.

My book this week was “The Life Impossible” by Matt Haig.  I thought the idea of a retired math teacher running around Ibiza sounded entertaining.  I recommend the book, although it quickly becomes necessary to suspend disbelief to enjoy.

“When retired math teacher Grace Winters is left a run-down house on a Mediterranean island by a long-lost friend, curiosity gets the better of her. She arrives in Ibiza with a one-way ticket, no guidebook and no plan.

Among the rugged hills and golden beaches of the island, Grace searches for answers about her friend’s life, and how it ended. What she uncovers is stranger than she could have dreamed. But to dive into this impossible truth, Grace must first come to terms with her past.

Filled with wonder and wild adventure, this is a story of hope and the life-changing power of a new beginning.”

Here’s a quick overview of how Grace is feeling at the start of the tale:

“And I did feel it. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was something. The truth was that I hadn’t really felt much for years. Just a vague lingering sadness. Anhedonia. Do you know that word? The inability to feel pleasure. An unfeeling. Well, that had been me for some time. I have known depression, and it wasn’t that. It didn’t have the intensity of depression. It was just a lack. I was just existing. Food was just there to fill me up. Music had become nothing more than patterned noise. I was simply, you know, there. You should be able to feel something.”

This Nana Mouskouri reference made me smile.  Hadn’t thought of her since Dad used to play her records.  Could picture her with those big glasses.

“I remember her as a very beautiful and shy young woman, with an air of glamour, which was a rarer quality back in 1979 than it is now. She had a heavy fringe and long dark hair and wore beads. She reminded me of the singer Nana Mouskouri, but without the glasses.”

Grace explains her love for mathematics:

“Maybe that is why I loved mathematics. To properly know mathematics is to know the only thing that can be assuredly known. Politics and sociology and history and psychology have facts you have to interpret. But in mathematics facts are just facts. There is no arguing. There is no left-wing or right-wing algebra. There is no sin in geometry and no guilt in trigonometry. Mathematics is the purity of peace. Except, of course, it is also as mysterious and enigmatic as the whole of life, and expecting it–or anything–to conform to what I wanted it to be was a mistake. And that is the most devastating thing of all. When the logical world we have sought out crumbles to dust in front of our eyes.”

I love the use of Easter Island here:

“I thought he was trying to shock me. So, despite my anxiety in that moment, I kept my face as still and strong as an Easter Island statue and gave him not even a flicker of the prudery he was probably expecting.”

A tour of all the different kinds of folks inhabiting Ibiza:

“There were so many Ibizas, I realised. There was the family holiday go-karting, horse-riding kind of Ibiza. The party Ibiza. The hippy Ibiza. The spa hotel Ibiza. The scuba diving and beachy Ibiza. There was the expensive, yachty, Michelin-starred Ibiza. The Leonardo DiCaprio Ibiza. The nature trail, star-gazing Ibiza. The traditional Ibiza of folk dances and villages and festivals and churches and old customs. And then of course there was the local, lived, contemporary Ibiza I had caught glimpses of in supermarkets and cafés and amid the dog walkers beside the road. There was seemingly an Ibiza for everyone, except lonely grieving widows.”

Another great simile:

“It was a rickety, creaky old wooden dive boat with an even more rickety engine that stopped and started like a dog growling at a mischievous squirrel.”

Venn diagram – a nice maths reference:

“Her accent was strange. Somewhere in the Venn diagram overlap between American and English and Dutch and Spanish and nowhere at all.”

I like this creche and abandoned toddler quote:

“He was quite young. Under forty. But then, everyone was quite young. (When you hit your seventies the whole world is basically one big crèche and everyone in it an abandoned toddler.) It wasn’t the clothes or hair or face or youthfulness that interested me.”

The Barry White of marine mammals:

“But this whale uses a very unusual high frequency to make his calls. Fifty-two hertz. It is the world’s loneliest whale because no other whale understands calls at that frequency. It is a blue whale, and blue whales are much lower. Blue whales are the Barry White of marine mammals. Deep, deep, deep. So the poor high-pitched creature has to swim through the ocean all alone, finding it impossible to make friends and with no one to hear his call.”

A great description of a Cure song:

“‘Listen. It is called “The Last Day Of Summer”. It is by The Cure. I wasn’t really the goth era. I was the Rolling Stones era. I was protest music. Soul and Dylan and Joan Baez and Sam Cooke and Gil Scott-Heron. Imagine me in eyeliner! But I’ve always tried to keep my mind open to later music. It is such a beautiful song. Julia–my wife–she loved The Cure. We saw them at the Palau Sant Jordi in Barcelona. She liked this song a lot too. It is so underrated. It is a bit sad and not my normal thing. But listen. Listen to those guitars, how they create shapes, like a forest. Then his voice comes in and it is as natural as a shadow.’ He paused. ‘This song is exquisite.’”

I’ve spent some time with the Black Keys album “Ohio Players” (a gift from Carolyn) over the last few weeks.  It’s very good – not a bad track on the whole thing.

A trip into “A Case of You” yielded some great finds.  I had been listening to the Joni Mitchell live album “Shadows and Light” and loved the version of this song.  Jaco on bass, Pat Metheny on guitar, the Brecker Brothers on brass – what could go wrong.  Here are a few great versions:

Are you in an open minded and somewhat experimental mood now?  If not, skip the next option.  This is an album that showed up on the 5 favourite albums from Spin magazine – the target this week was Nick Mason, drummer for Pink Floyd.  He had two albums that I enjoy – “Halcyon Days” from Bruce Hornsby and “Jack Johnson” by Miles Davis (a huge boxing fan.)

Sly Dunbar passed this week.  One half of the legendary “Sly and Robbie” rhythm section, I first heard on Black Uhuru records from the 80s.  And then heard everywhere on those records record at Nassau studios – Joe Cocker, the Rolling Stones, Bob Marley, Sinead O’Connor etc etc etc.

Remembering Sly Dunbar