Part 2 -- South Louisiana jaunt

On Tuesday Richard and I drove south to a couple of small towns. The plan was to see a bit of the landscape, perhaps a little culture, and the Vatican exhibit at St. Joseph's in Rayne. 

In Crowley, home of the rice festival, we saw this fabrication shop where swamp boats are made. We had to pull over and get a few pictures. How my husband knows about this sort of thing always amazes me, but he was able to answer all of my silly questions. 

So the way these things work is that the boat sits on top of the rice field, or crawfish pond or marsh, wherever. The big paddle wheel on the back "floats" on the bottom and pushes the boat. The hydraulic arm is long so that it can sink deeply or just roll along on top of the swampy ground, and the driver can adjust the depth as needed.

Farmers and fishermen can purchase boats in different widths, lengths, and paddle wheels, depending on their individual needs. Interesting, no? Notice the tarp on the top? That's because it's hot in Louisiana. The tarps provide some shade for the human and for the product on board. That question I did not need to ask.

As we drove through Crowley, I took a few pictures of the downtown area. We saw some beautiful old homes, but the rain and time didn't allow for pictures. Have you noticed the rain splattered windshield?

Isn't this a fabulous picture? Yes, those specks are
raindrops, but I still like it. The cross makes it perfect.

And on the way home we were enjoying the beautiful sunset when Richard realized that I was taking pictures of the sun setting from the town of Sunset. Cute, no? 

The Garden Wars: A Ship Sinks

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Mayday! Mayday! THE ANTS ARE COMING! THE ANTS ARE COMING!

Ahh, well, there's only one way to take out the enemy...with full gear and enough ammo. Really it's the only way. Men, you know.

So we've had a great deal of rain. Flood stage and higher. People have lost homes. Rivers overrun their banks kind of rain. Darn sky!

With rain come the ants. Fire ants. Sugar ants. Red ants. Flying ants. Ants with no name. They are allowed on my kitchen cabinet. Actually, that's a problem but it's my problem. The garden, however, is scared ground. Remember the Garden War has begun. Ants may cause a gardener to lose to another gardener. So we can't have ants in the garden. Or aphids. Or chickens. Or anything that may eat a leaf. Leaves are good. Ants are bad. Simple. 

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But ants invade, although this wasn't really a tactical move, they were flooded out. So in their defense, it really was the sky's fault. Darn sky! But they should have moved to the pasture. Or my kitchen cabinet. Somewhere safe. Instead, they moved two feet from scared ground. They had to go. 

I am at fault since I warned a gardener to be careful and not stand in the anthill while we were on the daily admiration walk to admire the plants, the leaves, the heights, the vegetables. Then admire the garden in general. Kneel and say a pray for good weather, good harvest, and a kicka-- win. Walk to the next garden and repeat. There are several boxes, remember? It takes a while. 

This particular day, however, I noticed The Anthill. Easy fix. Pour an oil-based liquid on the hill and strike a match. It's what country boys do, you understand. Oil-based liquids are easily accessible, make whooshing sounds, and cause havoc. All three of my boys are reliable pyromaniacs. I, myself, can start a campfire with one match and the items I gather in the woods. It's written in the official "True Southern Rite of Passage Handbook" (section 5, article iii, line 6) True Southerners must be "capable of building a safe fire without harm to human, animal, live vegetation, or self using only natural materials and no more than three matches." It goes on to say blah, blah, blah, blah...

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Adam met that standard at about the age of two, maybe three. He was toddling around gathering wood, so he couldn't have been very old. Today, he can start a safe fire with a wet brick. So he started a fire. It's an interesting way to de-ant a garden. 

That the ants weren't actually in the garden was just a small sticking point. They were around the tall creosote pole that held the electrical wires to Adam's shed. The wires weren't connected to the shed. They were just holding the pole up. Maybe one day they'll carry electricity all the way from the transformer to the shed. Maybe not. 

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But the electrical pole was not the problem, the ants were the problem. So Adam poured paint thinner around the pole, not on the pole, it was to be a safe fire, and struck the lighter. It was a little disappointing that the paint thinner didn't whoosh, but it did upset the ants. In fact, it was upsetting enough that the boy poured on more paint thinner. 

Hmm, there wasn't enough oil-based liquid, so he got out a small can of some other Napalm-like liquid and poured. The fire got hotter. Ahh, now the ants were climbing out of the depths of the nest. They were toast and soon the fire died down to barely a smolder. Not even smoke. Everyone safe. See, a safe fire. That was Saturday.




On Sunday it was easy to explain to the electrical company why the electrical pole was lying on the ground. The wires were faulty, you see. They got scared of the little bitty (safe) fire and let go of the pole and, unable to support itself, the pole crashed to the ground. 

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Here's your chemistry lesson: paint thinner--flammable; burns like a chemical grenade capable of seeping into small cracks. Creosote--enzymatic chemical; can burn without oxygen. In fact, it can create a fire out of itself. And that, my dear readers, is what happened.  A week later and there's still a smolder of laughter.

Out of doors

We've had some beautiful sunshine and some awful rain in the last few weeks.  On one of the sunny days I noticed a bit of color in the yard.  The daffodils were really pretty considering how much water they had to deal with.

The forsythia shrub really suffered, although it looks fairly decent in the sun. 

Then last weekend I went outside well after dark to let the puppies out and discovered a little gray bird huddled on the corner column of the porch.  I have no clue what kind of little guy he is but, it turns out, he has a friend on the other post.  How they hang on all night and not fall off leaves me stumped.





Not knowing what kind of birds they are can drive a person nuts, so I decided to try to find out using What Bird.  At first I thought I could identify them the quick way, but I ended up having to really break down the attributes and think hard to (perhaps) figure it out.  In the end I think they are house wrens.

copyright whatbird.com 2007

I think they are still young, maybe half-grown.  I also think they will look like the brown throated wren in the center of the picture.  

So what started as a post about what's going on out-of-doors in our area ended up a search for a bird on my front porch.  

In the meantime I hope you didn't look too closely at my poor pictures.  Not only are they fuzzy and out of focus (it's hard to take pics when your trying not to disturb the wildlife) but they also show how badly we need to wash the house. 

Did you see the little green frog in the top of the first pic?  That little guy has hundreds of family members making a mess on every bit of wall and window. Plus the birds--both crazy and cute--are leaving their own messes.  

Remember the crazy redbird banging on the window?  That fool still comes everyday, several times a day.  I'm so tired of cleaning up after him that I just may put out something to scare him off.  I could say it's for his own safety, but I really do not want every window flagged.  I don't have much use for lots of showy materialistic things, but I don't think I'm okay with tacky either.

Not again! Pin It Wednesday #21

Now, this is just sad.  Why can't I remember when it's Wednesday?  Am I losing it or just ......well, let's not answer that!

I'm too embarrassed to think, so instead I'm going to show pictures from our recent trip to Mobile, AL.  These are from my sister Laura who sent me a fabulous package: CD's of pictures from our trips to Tennessee, Kentucky and Alabama.  Oh, they are gorgeous photos!  


Disclaimer: I haven't touched a photo....they are all her creative talent at work.  I'm just putting them here to share with you.

We spent part of the afternoon walking around the city like true tourists, cameras in hand, gawking at the beauty of old buildings and new.  When we happened upon the Cathedral of the Archdiocese of Mobile, we stepped in to say some prayers and enjoy the basilica. 

Note to self: just point out the shot and let Laura do the work.  Isn't this architectural corbel unbelievable?  

Across from the cathedral is a small deeply shaded park with lots of benches, a gazebo, a huge cross (above) and, of course, Spanish moss hanging from the live oaks that line the streets. 

A short walk toward "the beach" turned out to be the riverfront.  No beach.  We were planning to kick back and play on the beach.  Well, anyway, we learned something and enjoyed the ships and barges passing through.

From there, we walked to a pub for something to drink and a snack.  The seafood was delicious!  After that we returned to the hotel to get dressed for a visit with family.  Definitely the way to end our Mobile day.

Have you been to a Southern city?  What was best about your visit: people, customs, food, music, architecture?  There's so much in any city in the deep South to enjoy.....just not always a beach!