Huh? Why?

Taking a small break from my New Orleans posts, take a look at this picture of Conan O'Brien:

His head is abnormally large, isn't it? It looks like someone took a picture of his head and photoshopped it onto another picture of a body. Right???? The photo is from a straight news story about the Conan-Leno war. Here's the original story:

http://www.cnn.com/2010/SHOWBIZ/TV/04/30/conan.obrien.never.ppl/index.html?section=cnn_latest

Why make his picture look psycho?

The French Quarter

Day two of our trip to New Orleans, and it was time to check out the town. First to Cafe Du Monde, the famous cafe that serves coffee with chicory and pastries called beignets (pronounced bin-yays). Lee had arrived late the night before, so he joined us on the incredibly long walk from the hotel to the cafe. Looking over my many pictures from our trip, I see that for some reason I took only a few crappy pictures of the French Quarter. No matter. I will download pics from the internet to show what we saw while we were there.

Cafe Du Monde:

The beignets:

The beignets were excellent. Many compare them to donuts. They are more like funnel cakes to me, but better. More moist. The coffee...eh. Wasn't crazy about the chicory part of it. It gave the coffee a chalky texture.

Ellie had a bit of a meltdown in the cafe of the monde and we could all tell that she was quite tired. (Though in fairness to Ellie, her dad ordered her a Sprite and then drank the whole thing himself.) So we cabbed it back to the hotel and Lee and Greg went off to work while Ellie and I rested in the hotel.

After a nice rest, Ellie and I headed back to the French Quarter for a horse and buggy ride through town. The buggy driver let us sit right up in front with him, though we had to wait for other passengers before we could start the tour. The driver had to stop everyone on the street to ask them if they wanted to take a tour and we couldn't go until we got at least five adults.

We picked up the tour right outside of Jackson Square, which is lovely:

Soon enough, an older couple joined us. The husband was drinking a beer out of an enormous beer bottle with a straw sticking out of it. And it was noon. They were from New York originally, but they were retired and lived in Virginia. We chatted merrily about places we'd visited and about granddaughters, but there were a few points when the wife leaned in to talk to me that there was suddenly a terrible odor and I thought, "Good Lord, that woman has bad breath," until I realized that I was actually smelling the back end of the horse in front of me. That was a relief, because I was starting to worry about her health. Ellie didn't seem to notice the smell of the horse, which is strange because she's in that stage when everything around her is disgusting and the smallest thing offends her delicate senses.

It seemed to take forever, but we finally got enough people to start the tour. It was so much fun to ride through the streets on a buggy. So relaxing. The history of the city was interesting and not at all kid-friendly.  The tour guide did a good job of euphamizing, but much of the discussion was about prostitution and how the "working girls" helped to build up the city. It was fine for Ellie--she didn't understand what he was talking about. I felt bad for the other people, though, who had to get a watered down version of the tour because there was a kid along.

Here are some shots of the french quarter:

I love the architecture. The buildings and the narrow streets seem so European, and everything is old. I love old. One of the things I didn't like about California (and anywhere west--Denver is the same way) is that everything is new. It doesn't have a history. New Orleans has a history. Its history is all still there, underneath the restaurants and bars and the neon lights and the mass of tourists. It's easy to see why people believe that it's a city filled with ghosts. You can practically see the ghosts sitting at the cafes or ducking down a narrow corridor or lounging on a balcony above your head.

Ellie loved the tour even though she didn't understand a thing the tour guide said. The woman we talked to told us that she had bought her granddaughter a doll at the French Market, which is an outdoor flea market down the street. Ellie was excited to check it out. We walked down to the market and Ellie sought out those dolls with her typical determination and focus until we found them at the last booth in the market. They were harlequin dolls with painted faces and colorful clothes and bells hanging off their hats. She wanted one desperately and they were eight bucks, so (of course) I got her one. They were pretty cool and seemed to have the flavor of New Orleans, even though they were stamped "Made in China."

After the French Market, we had a quick lunch (jambalaya for me---yum!) and went back to the hotel to rest.

I will pick up the next adventure anon...

Swamp Tour

Batteries are recharged and I've uploaded the pics. On to the swamp tour!

We arrived at the swamp after about 45 minutes on the bus. I would have had a wonderful time looking out the window at the green, lush scenery if Ellie did not announce 15 minutes into the trip that she was about to pee in her pants. It was still a nice ride, but there was more than one moment of panic.

She made it (whew!) and we were on our way to the swamp.

The boats that took us on the swamp were big motor boats with long benches in the middle that held a large group. Our tour guide was a big, brawny cajun dude who had been giving these tours for a long time. Right away we passed by a cluster of houses along the river. Here's one of them:

You can see that it's up on stilts so that the water can come up pretty high before it hits the house. Well, it came up a lot higher than that during Katrina. There used to be more houses along the river where we were, but they're gone now. Only a few remain.

We floated along down the river and past a house that our tour guide told us had been picked up by the flood and carried down the river to rest in a different spot. The house stayed intact and everything was still in it. It's just now in a totally different place. Apparently his friend doesn't want to live in a place that you have to boat to, so he just got his stuff and left.

Soon enough, we saw what we had come to see. An alligator. Our guide called the alligator over by throwing marshmallows at it and holding out a hot dog on the end of a stick. We all jumped up with our cameras and video cameras. Here are a few of the shots we got:

It was amazing how close we could get to the alligator. It was a female, and she had no fear of us. The guide talked about how docile and not aggressive alligators are, unlike crocodiles. He said that alligators only like to eat meat and marshmallows, but they were spitting out the marshmallows when we were there. Each area of the swamp had a group of females and one male. The dominant male alligator would defend his territory, fighting all the other males to keep them away from his bevy of alligator beauties. Like this one:

Of course Greg's cell phone rang as we were all up taking pictures and he had to answer it. When I'm marveling at exotic wildlife and enjoying the pristine habitat that seems untouched by human hands, the last thing I want to hear is, "I'm going to need that network cable tomorrow."

He turned off the phone after that, and we were not interrupted again. We saw more alligators, lots of fish that would leap up out of the river and fly through the air, a white egret that flew around the boat, and some wild baby boars. Here they are:

We saw the baby boars' enormous mom, but I was not able to get a good shot of her. But here are some pics of the swamp---such a beautiful, serene, peaceful place.

Just as I was settling in and enjoying my surroundings and with an hour to go on the tour, Ellie announced she had to pee again. Her bladder is the size of a walnut. There was nothing we could do unless she wanted to hang off the side of the boat (she didn't) so we had to deal with more wiggling and panicking for the rest of the tour.

The swamp was remarkably free of bugs, probably because it was April. I have a feeling it's different in August. There were no flies or mosquitoes or anything other than dragon flies. Bugs were my biggest concern and I was quite relieved when we started out on the boat and I wasn't attacked at all. But after a bit, the tour guide took us further into the swamp and into an area where the trees were thick around us and the river narrowed. He parked us under a tree and stopped the boat. Right when he stopped the boat, three monstrous bees decided to check us out and flew around the overhang that was above our heads. They were huge and they had that kind of low, loud buzz that tells the primitive center of your brain that something extremely large is right next to you and it's growling.

The tour guide took that exact moment to settle in and tell us some stories. He had no intention of moving the boat away from whatever hive we were sitting under. Oh, he had so much to tell us. He gave an exhaustive review of all the movies and TV shows that were filmed in that very swamp, complete with a list of all the cast members. He talked in great detail about how Kelly Ripa of Regis and Kelly fame came to visit the swamp and how she mentioned them on her show. He talked about the time he got to act on film during a promotional video for the area. The guy waxed on and on like George Bernard Shaw while Ellie and I cowered lower and lower in our seats watching the mutant bumble bees buzz around the boat. Greg was able to keep it together and ignore the bees. He has nerves of steel.

Finally we moved. Thank God. We rambled through the water back to the dock, got off the boat and then sprinted to the bathroom before we got on the bus back to the hotel.

On the way back to the hotel, the bus driver showed us some more spots where you could see the effects of Katrina. Ellie asked me, "Why does everyone around here like talking about Hurricane Katrina so much?" I said, "I don't think they like to talk about it. But if a hurricane came to your town and destroyed so many things, you'd talk about it a lot, too." I told her that when the hurricane hit, we gathered up all her baby clothes and toys that she didn't play with anymore and we sent them to the kids here who lost all of their clothes and toys in the hurricane. I said, "So who knows? Maybe some of your stuff is still here in New Orleans." She liked that idea a lot.

We stopped in the French Quarter for dinner on the way back to the hotel, and I could tell even at 6pm or so that it was no place for a kid.

Stay tuned for the next day....

Nawlins, baby!

We're back from our trip to New Orleans! Greg was there for work and Ellie and I went along for the ride.

It will probably take me three or four posts to give a complete rundown of our vacation, but I'll try to keep it concise.

We flew out very, very early on Tuesday morning. And Greg and I were up very, very late getting ready and packing. No sleep.

Luckily, our flight was uneventful. But I was so sleepy and getting a little loopy as we neared New Orleans. And as we were coming in for our descent, a flight attendant leaned over me to talk to the Asian woman sitting behind us and said, "Can you put your bags under your seat?" The Asian woman didn't respond, so the flight attendant said again, "Your bags? You need to put them under your seat." Still nothing. So she turned to her fellow flight attendant, who was also Asian, and said, "I don't think she understands what I'm saying." The other flight attendant said, "Oh, okay," as if he knew just what to do. Then he leaned over me and shouted, "PUT YOUR BAGS UNDER YOUR SEAT!"

Let's just say that I landed in New Orleans curled into a little ball with my hands covering my face, laughing hysterically. Ellie just looked at me as if she knew right then that I was certifiably insane while Greg looked at me as if he knew that a long time ago.

Because we left so early, we arrived at our hotel room with a lot of time left in the day. Greg suggested that we go on a Swamp Tour. We had to take a shuttle about 30 miles outside the city and the tour itself was going to take about 2 hours, so it seemed ambitious for our first day. But Greg was going to be at the convention for the rest of the trip and it was our only chance to do it, so we made the reservations for about an hour later. Just enough time to scarf down lunch.

I am so glad we did. The swamp tour was probably the highlight of the whole trip. I took tons of pictures and I will post some in my next blog post once I recharge the camera's batteries.

Our bus trip to the swamp went through the city and out into the countryside along the water, where we got a glimpse of the still-devastated landscape after Katrina. I tried to take pictures as we drove by, but it was hard to get good ones. Ellie and I looked out the window and I pointed out how the roofs were torn off the houses, the windows were blown in, the sides of the houses were boarded up. I tried to remember how long ago Katrina was and I guessed it at about three years ago. Turns out it was five years ago. Wow. I said to Ellie, "The hurricane hit when you were 2 years old. Now you're 7 and this is still how it is." She was amazed. The bus guide talked a lot about Katrina and how it changed the landscape and how it impacted the people there. It is still an overwhelming presence.

More in a bit, with pictures....

Whispering

I have four half-written blog posts sitting in my draft folder. I just cannot get it together.

It might be because every single time I sit down to blog, I get called away to make snacks, help set up a lemonade stand, try to figure out what would make poop turn green, clean up a flesh wound, and save the cat from another attack of kisses and hugs... and then Ellie comes home from school. (heh heh)

ANYWAY.... the other day we were watching The Dog Whisperer while we had Abby over. That Cesar Millan is amazing.

After watching two shows in which Cesar trained the most vicious, difficult dogs, we decided to train Abby not to bark at the door whenever someone knocks. She's a great dog, and she has only this one problem. Cesar would laugh about it. He would say, "Please. Such an easy task. I will have her trained in five minutes."

According to Cesar, you are supposed to put yourself calmly and assertively in front of the dog and the door. You are not to allow the dog to stand in front of you. You are the master and commander and you get the door--not the dog.

So I ran out the front door while Ellie waited in the house with Abby. Of course, the moment I opened the door to walk out, Abby went into a frenzy and started bolting for it. Eventually she calmed down and went back to sit with Ellie. Then I knocked.

Ellie and Abby had a race to the door. Abby got there first. Instead of calmly and assertively putting herself in front of Abby, Ellie shoved Abby away from the door and jumped in front of her. Not exactly the vibe we were going for.

We decided to switch places and have Ellie knock so I could show her how it's done. This time when Abby bolted, I stepped in front of her and swiped my hand firmly above her to signal that she should back up. It worked! She backed up and stopped barking. We switched places again and Ellie tried it. It worked again! Of course, Abby might have figured out by then that it would be one of us on the other side of the door and not a real stranger. She is a smart dog.

What I really need is a Kid Whisperer to come and teach me how to train my kid not to whine when she doesn't get what she wants and to do what I tell her to do.

Wandering mindfulness

I sat at a traffic light the other day behind a minivan with the license plate IGIVEUP. So that was depressing.

Perhaps as an antidote to that level of despair, I decided to make a zen garden out of a $4 box that I got at a craft store. I filled it with sand and added a candle and small rocks. Ellie played with it when she got home and when she got upset after she couldn't make her own, I said, "Remember that life is suffering and suffering comes from desire. If you want to eliminate suffering, you must eliminate desire." She said, "Huh?'

My zen garden:

I got more frames at the thrift store to make more zen gardens. It's kind of messy once you get to the sand part, so I thought about putting them together outside in the driveway. But there are wasps buzzing around the house (I think they're building a nest in between the shutters) and screaming like a little girl just doesn't say zen to me. So I think I'll make them inside the house.

So I was looking up zen gardens and Buddhist symbols online and I saw that you can get a certificate in Relaxation, Meditation and Mindfulness right over in Schaumburg. I can actually become a certified relaxer? Sign me up.

I do think it would be fun and probably helpful to take a class in Buddhism. Learn how to meditate. Learn how to breathe. Learn how to be mindful. Like being mindful of your body when it's telling you that it's 12:30am and you should go to bed instead of staying up to blog.

Easter

When I was a kid, there were only two mythical creatures who snuck into my house and left stuff for me when I wasn't looking---Santa and the tooth fairy. That was it. I think some other kids talked about the Easter Bunny coming to their house, but not me. My parents could barely muster up enough energy to handle Santa.

Now it seems like kids get visitors for every holiday. A few weeks ago, just after St. Patrick's Day, Ellie came into our bedroom and asked us why a leprechaun didn't come to our house and leave us chocolate coins like he did at her friend's house.

I've never had the Easter Bunny visit our house before, but we had friends over on Saturday night and they were whispering about how they were going to do it and I remembered Ellie's disappointment that a leprechaun didn't pick the lock on our front door and run through our house leaving gold-wrapped chocolate everywhere, so I decided to do it. Around midnight I ran over to Dominick's and bought some plastic eggs and hid them around the house.

Ellie was quite happy when she woke up and got to search the house for eggs. But I'm still bitter about it. Do we really need to do a Santa thing for every holiday? I cannot possibly figure out which holidays are supposed to bring visitors and which holidays aren't, so I've decided to assign a creature for every holiday. On Labor Day, Walter the Worker will come and hide hammers, wrenches and screwdrivers throughout the house (be careful where you sit!). Memorial Day will bring Sammy the Soldier to our house to wake her up with a 21-gun salute. And on the Fourth of July, the corpse of Thomas Jefferson will lovingly place a copy of the U.S. Constitution under her pillow. I have no idea what I'll do for Casimir Pulaski day, so I'll just leave it at that.

My other option is to blow everything and tell Ellie that no one comes to the house. Ever. We lock our doors and windows every night because we prefer not to have any nocturnal visitors. There is no Santa or Easter Bunny or leprechauns or anything else--it's all us. We're all the magic she's ever going to get.

Or I'll just blog about it.