Keith Robertson

“New Orleans Residency Week 2 – Tim and Dee”

We enjoyed a real musical treat on Monday evening.  Stanton Moore, drummer for Galactic and one of my very favourites, is hosting music at the Columns on Mondays.  Kenny, Kara, Denny and Anne joined us for an evening of excellent jazz musicianship.  All in a room the size of a living room, and for a reasonable price.

I think David Torkanowsky is the best pianist in New Orleans.  Yes, I put him ahead of Joe Krown and Jon Cleary.  Unfortunately, Jason Marsalis on vibraphone was a special guest and somewhat drowned out the piano.  It was still an amazing show.

Diana and I made a brief stop at the Milan bar on our walk home.  I really appreciate the little neighbourhood bars in New Orleans.

 

 

 

 

Tuesday began with a run in Audubon park – Week 5 Day 1 for me.  Later in the day, Diana met the girls for oyster Happy Hour at Superior Seafood. I love that Diana has a group of girls to get together with here.   I invited Kenny and Alex over for a drink and we enjoyed some good banter on the balcony.

Feeling adventurous, we did another run on Wednesday morning.  You guessed it, Week 5 Day 2.  We walked down to The Daily Beet for lunch (it feels healthy but is also yummy.)  After lunch, we picked up some macaroons from Sucre as a treat for Tim and Dee’s room.  I drove out to the airport to pick them up around 6pm.

We had a special surprise in store for their arrival – a celebrity chef cooking dinner at the condo.  Denny had agreed to help Diana prepare some jambalaya for the welcome meal.  It was delicious.

So fun to have Tim and Dee in town, and to have Denny and Anne join us to make them feel welcome in New Orleans.

We shared Audubon park with the Harveys on Thursday morning, enjoying a nice leisurely lap.  Lunch was at Juan’s Flying Burrito – one of Tim’s favourites.  It’s easy to get meat and potatoes style dishes without vegetables.  Our margarita pourer, however, needed a tiny bit more training:

After lunch, I led a walking tour of the fancy homes in the Garden District.  The architecture is so very unique.  I probably didn’t keep up with some of the other guided tours that we ran into, but I think everyone enjoyed the ramble around.

Theo’s pizza, downstairs from the apartment, was a very easy dinner solution.  I love their pizza and Greek salad.

I forgot to mention a special stop after our walk in the park – the prettiest pothole I’ve found.  It’s located at the corner of Laurel and Webster streets, and the locals have planted some pretty flowers.  Those are the same locals that hosted the wonderful porch concerts on our last visit – we should consider that neighbourhood.

 

 

Denny turned 55 on Friday!  Still such a kid. We celebrated his birthday in the gorgeous patio at Bayona in the French Quarter.  This is a pretty famous place that Susan Spicer opened many years ago.  She’s one of the best known female chefs.

I love this picture of the group celebrating with Denny.  The couple you may not recognize on the left are Tod and Lori, friends of Denny and Anne from Boulder, CO.

The food was delicious.  McD and I split a fried oyster salad, followed by a steak sandwich.  After lunch we wandered over to Jackson Square to take in some of French Quarter Fest, a free music festival with stages throughout the Quarter.

Here’s the group passing the legendary Preservation Hall en route to the fest:

Alex McMurray hit the stage right on schedule at 2:20pm and played an excellent set with his band (not Tin Men – that’s a different band.)

We were fortunate to meet Kenny’s brother, Andrew, in town from New York, and clearly a Kirsch.

Tim snapped these pictures of Denny and me enjoying the music – front and back views.

My back was hurting from standing still (more on that next week), and it was getting hot, so we took Tim and Dee for a tour of some classic French Quarter spots – Jean Lafitte’s Blacksmith bar and the Hotel Monteleone Carousel bar.  The girls did some quality shopping in between.  A healthy debate about Lafitte’s claim to be the oldest bar in America was led by Tim.  His thought was that McSorley’s in New York was older than 1722.  Later research by Dee showed neither correct.  The oldest bar is in Rhode Island, dating from the 160os.

We made it back to the condo at a reasonable hour, after fighting downtown 5 o’clock traffic.  Later, a dance party broke out on the balcony.  I laughed when some strangers passing on the street below joined in on “Dancing Queen.”

One of the few things on Dee’s list of things she would like to do on the visit was to try beignets.  We checked that off the list on Saturday morning, meeting Kenny and Kara after they finished yoga in City Park.  That location is much less busy than the French Quarter location.  I think the beignets were a big hit with everyone.

 

 

After those delicious treats, we had a pleasant stroll through the sculpture garden – one of the beautiful free attractions.  Here are some pictures:

There were some lovely wildflowers as we took a driving tour of City Park.  After that, we stopped by Liuzza’s for some classic pre-jazzfest style Bloody Mary’s before lunch.

 

 

Now it was time for lunch at Cafe Degas.  Such a unique location with the tree growing through the middle of the restaurant.  Kenzie was an awesome waitress – full of recommendations and banter.  Turns out she lived in Austin and Sydney previously – two of Diana’s favourites.  They became fast buddies.  Cemented by their mutual appreciation for this wine.

The crepe du crab that Kenzie recommended for me was delicious.  Unfortunately, the heavens opened right as we were finishing lunch.  No problem for McD – another bottle of that perfect Sancerre.  I finally got antsy and got soaked retrieving the car.

The Ogans were finishing up at the fest just as we were driving back from the City Park area, and so we arranged for a quick stop at the Columns.

There was some debate about whether we should rally off the couch to see Uncle Lucius on Saturday night.  I had bought tickets early, but they were not expensive.  We made a good decision and grabbed an Uber back to the Quarter for the show at the Toulouse Theater (previously One Eyed Jacks.)

Regular readers may remember that we’ve seen Kevin Galloway several times over the years – mostly at small venues in Austin.  Uncle Lucius is the band he was in prior to going solo.  What a good show they presented at the Toulouse.

Kenny and Kara joined us briefly after dinner and enjoyed a new band to them.

I was pleased that it wasn’t too busy at all at the show – plenty of room to move around.  I’m sure the band would have liked a few more people.

 

 

On Sunday, we convinced Tim to try a new food type – Israeli Mediterranean.  He ended up really enjoying Shaya.  The wonderful mushroom hummus was not something he tried.

The falafel sandwich was my entree – wonderful – and I had half leftover for later.

Tim and Dee’s departure was delayed from 5ish to 7:50pm.  Some good time for them to hang out some more and enjoy Jordan Spieth almost winning a golf tournament, but a late arrival for them back in Newark and then Pennsylvania.

Another excellent week in New Orleans with great friends.  Tim’s summary, “just and absolutely awesome visit.”

My book this week (and last) was “The Nightingale” by Kristin Hannah.  Kenny leant me the book and he loved it.  I previously really enjoyed “The Great Alone” – I’ll need to share that one with Kenny.

I’m about half way through the story, and things are really starting to heat up with Isabelle working for the resistance in Paris.  Here’s the online summary:

“France, 1939 – In the quiet village of Carriveau, Vianne Mauriac says goodbye to her husband, Antoine, as he heads for the Front. She doesn’t believe that the Nazis will invade France … but invade they do, in droves of marching soldiers, in caravans of trucks and tanks, in planes that fill the skies and drop bombs upon the innocent. When a German captain requisitions Vianne’s home, she and her daughter must live with the enemy or lose everything. Without food or money or hope, as danger escalates all around them, she is forced to make one impossible choice after another to keep her family alive.

Vianne’s sister, Isabelle, is a rebellious eighteen-year-old girl, searching for purpose with all the reckless passion of youth. While thousands of Parisians march into the unknown terrors of war, she meets Gäetan, a partisan who believes the French can fight the Nazis from within France, and she falls in love as only the young can … completely. But when he betrays her, Isabelle joins the Resistance and never looks back, risking her life time and again to save others.

With courage, grace, and powerful insight, bestselling author Kristin Hannah captures the epic panorama of World War II and illuminates an intimate part of history seldom seen: the women’s war. The Nightingale tells the stories of two sisters, separated by years and experience, by ideals, passion and circumstance, each embarking on her own dangerous path toward survival, love, and freedom in German-occupied, war-torn France―a heartbreakingly beautiful novel that celebrates the resilience of the human spirit and the durability of women. It is a novel for everyone, a novel for a lifetime.”

I’ve really enjoyed the detail on what it was like for women and families in rural France to endure the German occupation.  I look forward to the resistance stories that I’m expecting to develop in the second half.

I was playing a Chet Baker album on the balcony one afternoon, and particularly enjoyed this song:

Here’s our favourite Uncle Lucius song – so poignant:

And finally, The Tin Men featuring Alex McMurray, with our wedding classic:

Coexist peacefully, with kindness and patience for all!

 

“Goodbye Dad”

The funeral service for my Dad was on Monday afternoon.  Attendance at the 427 year old St. Columba’s church was one of the highest in recent years.  Walking into the church after so many years to see the coffin, flowers, all those people, and the pictures of Dad with family rotating on the screen was quite overwhelming.  Family in the front row did a good job of keeping it together.  The kids in the second row not so much – lot of emotions there.  Here’s the order of service:

George Lind, previously the minister at St. Columba’s and who presided at Heather’s wedding, did a very nice job with the service.  Much more meaningful because he had been Dad’s friend for many years.  George included all the notes that Elspeth, myself and the family had provided in his eulogy.  That meant we were all quite familiar with the material, but I’m sure some of it was new for the rest of the attendees.

Here’s the announcements that were included in the order of service from the service last Sunday:

Here’s some more about the history of St. Columba’s:

“The building of 1696 was small and the unpretentious spire remaining today was then in the centre of the place. The only other part of that church still standing is the Corsehill Aisle. The Lainshaw Aisle is built in line with the Corsehill one and may not be of much later date. In 1772 the roof was removed and the walls heightened. The minister of that time wrote: – “it is now well seated and holds a great number.” This minister may have been well pleased with his renovated Kirk, but his feelings were ruffled over the conditions of the manse. It had been built in 1642, fifty years before the church. The minister stated that, although it had some small repairs at different times, it was still in a “very bad condition.” That can be easily understood because the manses of those far-off days were usually small and thatched-roofed with not much more accommodation than the traditional but-and-ben.”

If you’d like to read more about the history, there’s a lot more information here:

https://stewartonstcolumbas.org/about-us/

After the service, we made the short trip to the crematorium in Dreghorn.  I was interested to hear George say that the hymn sung there, “Great is Thy Faithfulness”, was one of Dad’s favourites and he had signed that one in a hymn book George had when he retired.

The organist at the church was excellent.  I only know that he is Joe, don’t know his last name.  He had been out with knee trouble and we were fortunate to have him for the service.  Joe also made the journey to the crematorium and played that favourite hymn.

There was a very chilly wind for the receiving line outside the crematorium, and there were a lot of people to thank for attending.  It felt good to get back in the warm limo for the short ride to the Fenwick hotel.

There had been a lot of concern about how many people would arrive at the Fenwick.  It’s so hard to predict with weather and other plans.  Apparently my sister and Mum guessed perfectly – we had seven tables of ten, and that was exactly what we needed.  The funeral tea was very nice – I got to talk to Mrs. Dunlop, Dr. Bob Dunlop, Cousin Jean, Wee Jean, The Barclays (May and Les), Robin and Julie, Lorna and Russell (what a wonderful set of couples), George and Audrey, Caroline and Jim, Christopher, and several others.  My Mum and Dad have so many lovely friends.

Mum seemed pleased with the events of the day – which is what’s most important.

To finish off this section, here’s what was published in The Herald about Dad:

Elspeth and David stayed overnight and hung out with us on Tuesday morning.  We enjoyed lunch together and then they left for Aberdeen.  In the afternoon Mum and I tackled the cryptic crossword without the group think.  We made relatively quick work of what seemed like an easier than normal puzzle – maybe we were just warmed up from all the chatter over the weekend.

Before they left, we looked through an art portfolio of Dad’s and I selected a couple of paintings to bring back.  I just love this one of a guy fishing.

I came to understand how much better my sister’s memory is than mine.  We were talking about a trip to Forfar for a Golden wedding on Monday night.  She described the dress she was wearing (at the age of maybe 8), the dessert, the box of chocolates she won – what?  I remember very little other than we drove through a snow storm and Dad thought it was a good idea to overtake the snow plough.  There were many other topics during the weekend where I realized that Elspeth has a much better recollection of everything than I do.  A bit disturbing.

We left for Glasgow airport early on Wednesday morning.  Our flight to Heathrow was delayed by about 45 minutes, but we still had plenty of time to make the Dallas flight.  On arrival we were delighted (sarcasm again) to find that there was no jet bridge and we had to descend the stairs with suitcases and ride a bus to Terminal 5.  After wandering through the terminal for about 20 minutes, we made our way to the bus to Terminal 3.  Another 20 minutes or so and we were relaxing in the British Airways First Class Lounge – one of the advantages of flying so much on American Airlines.  Diana enjoyed the Champagne Lounge for 20 minutes and then it was time to head for our Dallas flight.

We rested up a lot on Thursday and Friday, and it was time to venture out in the cold on Saturday.  We enjoyed a yummy but sad lunch at the Blue Goose.   The usual sour cream chicken enchiladas for me, and chicken and shrimp fajitas for Diana.

“That does look yummy, but why sad?”, you ask.  Well, today is the last day of operation for the Blue Goose at this original location.  A lease dispute has brought the 39 year run to an end.  Very sad indeed.  I’ve been eating there since 1986.

Diana’s meal came with the fresh made tortillas from the inhouse machine:

We enjoyed a walk in the brisk weather this morning, and I’m now relaxing with golf and March Madness NCAA basketball.

My book this week was “Britt-Marie Was Here” by Frederick Backman.  I bought this at the Book Nook in Stewarton and have thoroughly enjoyed the humour and care of this story.  Here’s the online summary:

“Britt-Marie can’t stand mess. A disorganized cutlery drawer ranks high on her list of unforgivable sins. She is not one to judge others—no matter how ill-mannered, unkempt, or morally suspect they might be. It’s just that sometimes people interpret her helpful suggestions as criticisms, which is certainly not her intention.

But hidden inside the socially awkward, fussy busybody is a woman who has more imagination, bigger dreams, and a warmer heart that anyone around her realizes.

When Britt-Marie walks out on her cheating husband and has to fend for herself in the miserable backwater town of Borg—of which the kindest thing one can say is that it has a road going through it—she finds work as the caretaker of a soon-to-be demolished recreation center. The fastidious Britt-Marie soon finds herself being drawn into the daily doings of her fellow citizens, an odd assortment of miscreants, drunkards, layabouts. Most alarming of all, she’s given the impossible task of leading the supremely untalented children’s soccer team to victory. In this small town of misfits, can Britt-Marie find a place where she truly belongs.”

The story started out well and then fell into a bit of repetition about Britt-Marie’s habits.  I was getting disappointed and then it quickly picked up again, with the main section on the Borg characters and coaching the soccer team finishing very strongly.

I enjoyed a couple of albums while writing some of this post on the flight from London to Dallas.  The first is the latest from the wonderful Avett Brothers:

And then the latest from Samantha Fish – a wonderful modern blues guitarist:

And let’s close out with one of Dad’s favourites:

 Coexist peacefully, with kindness and compassion for all!

“Cold, snowy and windy – typical Scottish weather”

We flew from Dallas to London on Tuesday afternoon.  I was fortunate to get a last minute upgrade and so was able to get a decent amount of sleep overnight.  Diana survived her exit row economy seat pretty well.  We had a slightly longer than expected layover in the lovely (sarcasm) Heathrow airport due to snow in London and a French air traffic control strike – apparently causing the incoming flight to take a more circuitous route.  We arrived safely in Stewarton in time for a warming bowl of Mum’s soup for lunch.

There were still a lot of pretty flowers left in the house.  Here’s one of my favourites:

Mum had been going through old photos to select some for Dad’s funeral service, and had kept some out for us to enjoy.  I’ll share some of my favourites here:

Dad with baby Finn and Will in San Antonio.  Elspeth said Dad had “magic arms” as he could get the babies to calm down and sleep better than anyone else.

Brunch at the Crepe Place in Santa Cruz

A “real” margarita at the Oasis, Austin

Dad always enjoyed an afternoon margarita from the Taco Cabana close to our San Antonio apartment.  He found the “real” margarita at the Oasis, overlooking Lake Travis, much stronger.  Will seems pretty pleased to be wearing his Mum’s sunglasses.

Whoever took this picture, likely David, was doing something to get Heather and Struan’s attention.  Mum also found an envelope of photos of my final year University project – a submarine and the electronics to control speed and depth.

Here’s a couple of old classics that I don’t remember seeing before:

In fairness, that is a tricycle and not a two wheel standard bike.  There’s always a Cairn terrier around grandpa.  We were watching Crufts dog show this weekend and remembering that Grandpa had judged there.  We weren’t impressed with the winner of the Cairns at Crufts this year.

McD (seems appropriate given the Scottish location) and I braved the weather on Thursday and Friday mornings for walks around town, with complaints that we weren’t going far enough – “But my ears are numb.”  We stopped into the local independent book store, The Book Nook, on Friday and I picked up something for the flight home.  You should be able to read about that next week.  I enjoyed chatting with the man working in the store about his book club selections and favourite recommendations.  The selection was small but very nicely curated.

Diana took this picture showing the snow melting on the sunny side and not at all on the shady side.

Diana took Mum out for a coffee on Friday afternoon while I did some work.  She enjoyed beating Mum to the payment device at the end of their session, even though an ex-pupil of Mum’s was waiting on them.

By the time we returned from our walk on Saturday morning (warming up and so we went a good bit further, including the full length of Lainshaw Woods), Elspeth and David and the kids (Heather, Michael, Struan and Emily) had arrived for lunch.  I laughed at this sign outside my old High School that would appeal to Finn:

We enjoyed some more delicious soup – this time vegetable and an apple crumble.  After lunch entertainment included doing the Herald cryptic crossword – hilarious as David played quiz master, trying to keep up with Mum’s cryptic decoder skills, and watching the Six Nations rugby.  Michael was not happy with the way the match was officiated.

Diana and David took Bramble for a walk on Sunday morning and seemed to have worn her out.

Bramble actually preferred stealing Diana’s seat, whenever she stood up, to sleeping in her bed.

We drove over to the Laird’s Table at Craufurdland for Sunday lunch.  What a lovely meal.  I had a chicken liver mousse with outcakes appetizer, followed by a chickpea curry – both excellent.

The owners of the Craufurdland estate are quite creative about maximizing the return on their property.  They have zip lining, mud running, fishing at the lake, and this exciting opportunity for Bramble:

We finished out Sunday in similar fashion to Saturday – cryptic crossword with David and then watching Scotland get a good beating from Ireland in rugby.  A very pleasant day all around.

Meanwhile, in California, a big storm arrived on Thursday.  It broke the tree around which Adamo had built such a lovely tree house:

I borrowed my book this week from Mum’s library.  I’m a bit over half way through “A Place Called Freedom” by Ken Follett.  Here’s the online summary:

“Set in an era of turbulent social changes on both sides of the Atlantic, A Place Called Freedom is a magnificent historical fiction novel from the undisputed master of suspense and drama, Ken Follett.

A Life of Poverty
Scotland, 1767. Mack McAsh is a slave by birth, destined for a cruel and harsh life as a miner. But as a man of principles and courage, he has the strength to stand up for what he believes in, only to be labelled as a rebel and enemy of the state.

A Life of Wealth
Life feels just as constrained for rebellious Lizzie Hallim, as she struggles with the less cruel circumstances of wealth and privilege. Fiercely independent, she is engaged to a man she doesn’t care for, a landlord’s son and heir to an exploitative business empire.

A Search for Freedom
Lizzie finds herself helping Mack after he becomes a fugitive. Separated by class but bound by their yearning for freedom, they escape to London. True freedom, though, lies further afield, in a new life that awaits across the Atlantic Ocean . . .”

Not my favourite of Follett’s offerings, but reasonably enjoyable so far and an easy read.

Dexter Gordon would have been 100 years old recently.  I think he has such a great saxophone sound:

I read a story that Allison Moorer wrote about the recording of this song.  Very poignant.

And finally something from singer-songwriter Kevin Morby that popped up on my Spotify Discover Weekly playlist.  There’s something about this one that really keeps my attention:

Coexist peacefully, with kindness and compassion for all!