I feel like I’ve let this blog go. Mostly that doesn’t bother me because I’ve been enjoying life so much, but there is a part of me that wishes I had written some things down. Memories that are already fading in my mind even though they are only months old.
Like the story of the lady that Candied Jansen and I met in New Orleans. We were walking back to our car from lunch at Parasol’s and admiring the houses and yards on Constance Street. An older lady (and honestly I have no idea how old she was…maybe in her late 60s…maybe younger) who was piddling around in her yard called out to us. I don’t know what made her stop us, but I’m guessing it was obvious that we weren’t from the area and that we were a couple. We stuck out. Well she talked to us about where we were from and what we had done while we were in town. She had several recommendations of things we should go and do. And then she invited us in to see her house and for a cold beverage. Candied Jansen and I looked at each other and agreed that a tour and a cold beverage sounded nice. We walked straight through the house and out into the backyard, because she wanted to show it to us. It was cute and quirky, and the 60 seconds we stood on the back steps and looked at it weren’t enough because I don’t have a good memory of what it looked like. But she was proud of it. I do remember that. We walked back into the kitchen where she fixed us glasses of lemonade. Her kitchen was small and covered with memories. Photos, newspaper articles, stickers, clippings and various other paper items covered every inch of space on the cabinet door fronts. I didn’t know where to look or if I should even be looking. I noticed a rainbow sun catcher in the window and an old wedding picture featuring two women on the refrigerator door. One of the women looked a lot like a younger version of the woman who was pouring our drinks. Again, I didn’t have enough time in the room to absorb it all. She brought us to the sitting room where we talked about politics, New Orleans, and how she was a retired teacher. She asked us how long we had been together and honestly, I think she was a little disappointed to hear that it had only been 6 months at that point. I guess since we are both in our 40s, she had hoped for a higher number. I get that. We were newbies to her. On the mantle in the room was a picture of her and her partner who was never mentioned. The picture was several years old, and my guess is that the other woman had passed away at some point. But I don’t know. We didn’t get to that. After a few minutes, she said that she had to leave so we needed to go. She did invite us to come see her again when we were in town. And despite my normal ease at remembering names, hers escapes me.