Posts Tagged: new orleans
The Big, Easy Surrender (the Thing About New Orleans)
I am a Northern Californian. Berkeley is in my bones. I like fecund, overgrown gardens and fog slinking under the Golden Gate. I like funky cafes, musty bookstores, and trails under redwood trees. I like people who care enough to
The Big, Easy Surrender (the Thing About New Orleans)
I am a Northern Californian. Berkeley is in my bones. I like fecund, overgrown gardens and fog slinking under the Golden Gate. I like funky cafes, musty bookstores, and trails under redwood trees. I like people who care enough to
thankful for music
Greetings and happy turkey day to you from the Big Easy! I’m out here for the holiday, stumbling from one spectacle to the next, eating like crazy and getting down (and trying to get back up again). No time to
thankful for music
Greetings and happy turkey day to you from the Big Easy! I’m out here for the holiday, stumbling from one spectacle to the next, eating like crazy and getting down (and trying to get back up again). No time to
know it all (chapter 23, part 3)
* They turn left on Esplanade Avenue. Behind a high wall, through a patio thick with banana trees and yellow blossoms he ushers her into the little iron door and up the stairs to the room where the lady sits
know it all (chapter 23, part 3)
* They turn left on Esplanade Avenue. Behind a high wall, through a patio thick with banana trees and yellow blossoms he ushers her into the little iron door and up the stairs to the room where the lady sits
safe to smile at strangers (chapter 23, part 2)
She’s outside kicking the wrought iron fence with her silver high tops when Robin walks up behind her. “Good morning, mamselle. Did we wake up on the wrong side this morning or did that fence try to sneak up on
safe to smile at strangers (chapter 23, part 2)
She’s outside kicking the wrought iron fence with her silver high tops when Robin walks up behind her. “Good morning, mamselle. Did we wake up on the wrong side this morning or did that fence try to sneak up on
the levee (chapter 23, part 1)
Eleanor knows the house is empty before she opens her eyes. The air in her bedroom is so humid she thinks the world outside must be covered with water. The levee must have burst. The waves snuck in while she
the levee (chapter 23, part 1)
Eleanor knows the house is empty before she opens her eyes. The air in her bedroom is so humid she thinks the world outside must be covered with water. The levee must have burst. The waves snuck in while she
indefinitely (chapter 19, part 1)
It isn’t the first time her moms stopped talking to each other. It doesn’t happen all the time but when it does it’s slow torture, like listening to Barney the purple dinosaur sing his stupid “I love you, you love
indefinitely (chapter 19, part 1)
It isn’t the first time her moms stopped talking to each other. It doesn’t happen all the time but when it does it’s slow torture, like listening to Barney the purple dinosaur sing his stupid “I love you, you love
Welcome to the Big Easy (part 1 of chapter 17)
Lang forgot to bring Elle a souvenir. As Lang’s car moves away from Grand Isle and toward New Orleans, her thoughts grow hard edges. She hasn’t seen her daughter for three weeks, which means she had more than twenty days
Welcome to the Big Easy (part 1 of chapter 17)
Lang forgot to bring Elle a souvenir. As Lang’s car moves away from Grand Isle and toward New Orleans, her thoughts grow hard edges. She hasn’t seen her daughter for three weeks, which means she had more than twenty days
her hands are not beautiful (part 1 of chapter 14)
(photo courtesy Jo) The hunched, black-clothed form of Mademoiselle Reitz shuffles up to the piano, gives a haughty little bow and plops down on the bench. Her hands are not beautiful; they hang over the keys like frozen buzzards and
her hands are not beautiful (part 1 of chapter 14)
(photo courtesy Jo) The hunched, black-clothed form of Mademoiselle Reitz shuffles up to the piano, gives a haughty little bow and plops down on the bench. Her hands are not beautiful; they hang over the keys like frozen buzzards and
what would water do (chapter 11)
(photo by vlpg Too on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/vlpgtoo/) The napkins have resurfaced, the plates have retreated to the center of the table and Lang Westwood is at the punchline of her story: “And I said, ‘what are my choices?’ to which
what would water do (chapter 11)
(photo by vlpg Too on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/vlpgtoo/) The napkins have resurfaced, the plates have retreated to the center of the table and Lang Westwood is at the punchline of her story: “And I said, ‘what are my choices?’ to which
