Miscellaneus Sweetness

 


















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Morning Fun

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A Clean Sweep: Ash Wednesday

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Each year at midnight, the hour which begins Ash Wednesday, this is the scene in the French Quarter.   Behind the last of the parades and revelers comes mounted policemen who line up across the entire street to sweep the crowds away.   They are followed by clean-up crews and street-sweepers so that by the time the sun casts her first rays on the Crescent City on Ash Wednesday, all but the smallest signs of the season's excess and sometimes, debauchery, have disappeared. There's something so hopeful, so decent about this physical, concrete image.   Even in a city that prides itself on good times, there is still some respect and some solemnity left.   How many more tourist dollars could they bring in if they just allowed the party to continue?   Maybe turn the French Quarter into an amusement park where it's Mardi Gras all year?   But no, the streets are swept and the party people are sent home to assess their damages, regro...
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First & From Without

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"Is she in there?" "I think so.  Should we knock?" This was part of the conversation from my fellow teachers outside my classroom door the morning I returned to work, two months after the birth of my first child.    My locked classroom door.   I managed to get into the building with no contact with others, cover my window on my door, and lock myself in for a good cry.    I did not take separation from my baby very well.   I called my husband and told him I just couldn't stay.   He called the personnel office and asked about my leave options.   Then, he called Mama.    "I know it's hard, Joey, but you have to let her face this; she just has to do it." Later, when I talked to Mama, she told me how she felt when she took me to my first day of school.   She said leaving me at that poor, old south Louisiana school building was one of the hardest things she ever did. ...
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