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A Clean Sweep: Ash Wednesday
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...
That Book & This Look
It has been quite a weekend. I've said my good-byes to the lake house and in doing so, said another good-bye to Mama. My last memories of that house will include my three precious children laughing and running around in circles until they collapsed . I left with a feeling of peacefulness and for that I am blessed--and thankful. As we drove home, I felt as if we were truly beginning a new chapter in our lives. My children have had a very distracted Mama for a while. For the past five years, I've been responsible for my father, who was in a nursing home with dementia and Parkinson's, and my parents' two homes, one in east Texas and one in Louisiana. My husband, family, and friends were there beside me, supporting and encouraging me, but I fear my children didn't get the Mama I wanted them to have. I know most mothers feel that way. So, as the first step, it finally happened. I took THAT book off...

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