New Years Eve, 2010

I'm not big on late-night parties, crowds of people, noise. But there's something about the New Year holiday I love. It's like a gift from the calendar. A clean slate. A fresh start. A new beginning. There's something forgiving about turning the page and putting the past behind. Like most folks these days, I shun resolutions, but around this time of year, I tend to think about how I might do some things differently, how I might change a pesky pattern of behavior. I want to be less critical of myself, and at the same time, I want to be better organized and more efficient with my time, especially the time devoted to writing.

But I'll think on that tomorrow. Tonight we say goodbye to 2010. And dream wishes for 2011. We've become so accustomed to staying in and celebrating the New Year with the boys, it's hard to imagine doing anything else.

How do you celebrate and what are your dreams for 2011? Whatever they are, I wish all of you a very blessed and Happy New Year.

Learning to Drive

My sons are presently attending drivers’ ed. So far it’s only the classroom instruction; they’re not yet on the road. That comes the week after Christmas. Curiously, I’m not the slightest bit worried about this. Aren’t I supposed to be concerned? Somewhat nervous? But no, I’m not. Although I do foresee a whole new lineup of prayers on my horizon. Maybe I trust the boys and feel confident they’ll be good drivers? Maybe I trust the driving instructor? Maybe I’m delusional?

What a right of passage – learning to drive and getting a license. Does anything say freedom more to a teenager than a driver’s license? I remember my father, never one to procrastinate, taking me out when I was 13 or 14 years old to a dirt road way out in the country and teaching me to drive his puke green vintage 1957 Ford pickup truck. I liked it better when Grandma Lowdermilk let me drive her red 1976 mustang. When I was in college, Grandma sold this car to Mom -- for me -- for $1,000.00 and a waterbed. I loved that car and drove it till it rusted away beneath me and left me stranded on the roadside one too many times.

After getting my permit, I wasn’t a bad driver, but I recall side-swiping a telephone pole once. And there was the time I got a flat tire and didn’t realize why the car was swerving erratically until I arrived at my destination. I was a pretty good driver, but I failed my driver’s test first time around. In Pennsylvania, rather than take you out on the road to see if you really know how to drive, instead there’s a little maze behind the DMV that a driver-candidate must navigate through. Parallel parking and three points turns, no problem. But since I knew there were no other cars in the maze, I didn’t see the point of stopping at the stop sign.

How do they test in Louisiana? I don’t even know.

So tell me. Got any good learning-to-drive stories?

Getting in the Spirit

After this weekend, I am officially in the holiday spirit.

It actually started last weekend, when Eric was home and we pulled out all our Christmas CDs, put out a few decorations, and decked the tree. Thursday at Sam's Club, I got my first whiffs of fresh pine from the trees and wreaths. Friday I started holiday baking by making two kinds of biscotti; cranberry pistachio and chocolate walnut. Saturday, I shopped, listened to the music, and watched the holiday bustle. Evening found Bob and I at Lake Charles' annual Christmas boat parade and fireworks display. We capped the night with a drive down Shell Beach Drive to gasp at the dazzling light displays.

It's a start but there's so much more; cards to send, gifts to wrap, more cookies to bake. The Moss Bluff Christmas parade (featuring SHHS's Pride and Spirit Marching Band) and a couple parties to attend next weekend. And Eric comes home for a month! I love Christmas. And in the midst of enjoying all the sights, sounds, and scents of the season, I take time to remember the Reason we celebrate.

How about you? What have you been doing to get into the holiday spirit?

Thanksgiving in Louisiana -- Vive la difference

I love to compare and contrast the cultural differences between my home state of Pennsylvania and my new home here in Louisiana. I love the culture here and find it fascinating because it's so different and new to me.

Naturally, I've been thinking lately of holiday variations. Of course, there are many similarities between Thanksgiving here and back home. We are, after all, still in America. I have to remind myself of that occasionally. For example, most people try to connect with family, if travel and distance are not prohibitive. The holiday generally focuses around eating a large meal together. Sports fans rally 'round the television and watch hours and hours of football. And people go crazy to start Christmas shopping the day after. But that's about where the parallels end.

Here are some interesting differences I've discovered. Please keep in mind, these are purely my own observations, they're certainly generalizations, and there are always exceptions to any rules.

• While turkey seems to be the protein of choice on Thanksgiving day, in Louisiana, folks seem to be more open-minded to other options. I don't think it would be uncommon to find something a hunter may have bagged, such as duck or venison, a nice pork loin or beef brisket. A little boudin on the side. Or a turducken.
• A turducken is, as far as I know, a uniquely Louisiana delicacy . . . a chicken stuffed into a duck stuffed into a turkey. All de-boned and stuffed again with dressing, usually rice dressing. I'd never heard of this until moving to Lake Charles. Our first Thanksgiving here, we bought one out of sheer curiosity. Frankly, we were not impressed. Not that it was bad, necessarily, but it just wasn't . . . good. And it was a mess. There was no way to slice it neatly. It just sort of fell apart on the platter. Since then, I've never heard anyone say they actually like turduckens. Yet thousands are sold this time every year.
• Yes, Louisianians eat stuffing, or dressing, but it's usually rice. Maybe cornbread.
• For some Louisiana families, Thanksgiving dinner is a big pot of gumbo and some pecan pies. Can't argue with that.
• In Pa., from the time I was a kid, Thanksgiving break was always a long weekend, Thursday-Monday. Here, the kids are off the whole week. Add the two weekends on either end, and that's nine days off. Makes traveling for the holiday a lot easier.
• In Pa., if I'm not mistaken, the Tuesday after Thanksgiving starts "hunting season." Lot's of men take this day off work, making the weekend just a little longer. The hunters in Pa. hope for a dusting of snow, so they can more easily track the deer. Snow tracks do not cross a hunter's mind in Louisiana. And in La., (I know this can't be true but it seems to me) it's hunting season year around!
• Shorts and t-shirts. 'Nuff said there.

How about you? What are some of your Thanksgiving traditions, where do you go to celebrate, and what's on your holiday table?

Celtic Nations Heritage Festival

Here in southwest Louisiana, we celebrate just about anything and everything, especially all things Cajun French. But Irish, Scotch, and Welsh? Yes, indeed. I went to the Celtic Nations Heritage Festival today in downtown Lake Charles.

Two outdoor stages provided continuous music and entertainment. Note the leprechaun leaning against the tree.


Vendors sold all things tartan, should you want a scarf . . .


or a custom-made kilt . . .


so you can dress like these gentlemen. I do love a man in plaid.

There were coats of arms and Celtic crosses . . .


bobbles and bangles . . .


a bakery booth that sold shortbread, “eccles cakes,” which are small round puff pastries filled with raisins and spices, and “drunken Scot” bread pudding, glazed with a deliciously sweet whiskey-laced sauce.


I watched a harp demonstration . . .


and a sheep herding demonstration. See the border collie in the background? They sure kept those sheep in line.


This was a popular tent.

I’m sure there must be folks in the area with some Irish heritage, but I can’t say I know any. I do have friends here whose mother’s maiden name was McDonough. But they’re Yankees like me.

Veterans Day -- 2010

I’d like to recognize and pay tribute to all veterans today. Your service is greatly appreciated. Thank you.

My Grandpa Lowdermilk served in WW II. He never talked about the war. But I remember him sitting silently in his chair Saturday afternoons watching war movies. I have photographs, awash in duotone sepia and beige; Grandpa’s arms behind his back, hat cocked slightly to the left, his mouth stern, pensive -- he was so handsome in his uniform.

Andrew and I went to Graceland-Orange Grove Cemetery today to see the bi-annual Avenue of the Flags. It’s an impressive patriotic sight; a sea of 700 or so veterans' flags proudly waving in the soft breeze of a perfect fall day. Avenue of the Flags is the largest display of veterans’ flags in the country.

Sowing Seeds, Practicing Patience

I took advantage of this sunny pleasantly cool fall day and planted 80 iris and daffodil bulbs throughout my yard. Can't wait till spring to see them in bloom. Talk about your delayed gratifications.

Which got me thinking of all the things in life that teach us patience. As a child, we go to bed Christmas Eve and wait for Santa -- could there be a longer night for a kid? As teens, we get our driver's permit at age 15 and wait till we're 16 to get our license. We take a test, such as the ACT, and wait weeks for the score. Later on, we apply for a job and wait for the phone to ring. We conceive a child and wait nine months to meet him or her. We're in a hurry to get in to town and wait for a train to pass in West Lake. We writers send off manuscripts and wait for editors' replies. Doesn't it seem we spend half our lives waiting? We plant all sorts of seeds in our lives. We wait. And watch them slowly grow.

What's been teaching you patience lately?