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Saturday was its usual day – a day of errands and chores, and today is a holiday so I’m trying to get in the groove. I was able to read the New York Times cover to cover – which doesn’t mean that’s a good thing, because when it is chocked full of interesting stories and articles, it takes me a lot longer than a morning. But we were able to sit on the screen porch and not faint from the heat so that in and of itself is a positive start to the day.

We made a big bowl of ceviche last night and some mushroom pate – we are determined to not cook one hot dog, hamburger, or meat of any kind this 4th of July unlike all the years past. It’s part of our transition into being even more conscious about the food we put into our bodies and serve our friends and children.

Trout ceviche from a neighbor’s catch in a nearby bayou filled with creole tomatoes grown in a small farm across the lake. Barbecued shrimp from a local catcher. Peaches from Alabama, sold at the green market. This is our hyper local, pescatarian holiday meal.

Happy Independent Thinking Day!

This morning I got up and coughed my way to City Park with the dogs in tow in the rain. It was one of those sun showers that we have been seeing a lot of these days. In Calabria, Italy when it rains with the sun, it means the foxes are getting married (foxes figure largely in Italian lore), in Hindi it is the jackal’s wedding, in the US we believe the devil is beating his wife, in Spain it is that witches are getting married. It’s all about the trickster animal making folly.

Loca, Heidi and I walked the full length of City Park and just as we got to Marconi and were rounding the turn, we saw in the dense foliage two Louisiana herons – one with wings outstretched and the other tucked in – nestled in a moss laden backdrop. Right then I let out a big sigh – the one that comes from too much time on the road, too much time away from home, and an overarching feeling that I’m back where I belong.

It was quiet and still in the park during the sun shower, and the air was slightly cooler from the rains we have been having the last week or so while I’ve been gone. You could smell the fecund air at every turn. Perhaps the witches and foxes are getting married, but I know this trick bag only too well and in a world of uncertainty behind Door Numbers 1, 2 and 3, it’s nice to know the familiar, really know it, to embody it.

That’s what home feels like, this is what home smells like, and what it looks like even with my eyes closed.

Yesterday I was in a fog as I tried to take care of the work items that remained and get back into the groove of being at home and spending time with family. The best moments are these – walking around the block with Tatjana, Loca, Heidi and Tin and seeing the bayou filling to the brim with people, animals, fowl, and fauna all enjoying their space on this planet.

By the end of the day, it was a quick jump on the trampoline, then a bottle on the porch for Tin with neighbors stopping by to say hello. One stopped and heard T speaking Croatian to T2 and was amazed at how he knew what she was saying. I said, “Yes it’s not enough that this little black boy was adopted by older, white lesbian mothers, but now he is being forced to learn a Slavic language.” She laughed and said, “You should be a writer.”

Ha.

Then as the daylight trickled away, it was time for both moms to sit on the front porch and end the day with a nice crisp Pinot Blanc from Alsace and a few tasty cheeses from Spain and France.

Goodnight Moon. Goodnight Bayou. Goodnight NOLA.

T was working on her book with a colleague when I got home and so after the nanny left, Tin and I spent time just hanging out together. We walked into the living room and he picked up his battery-less half a cell phone and put it to his ear and began walking around in circles speaking Kid Chinese. What goes on?

I’m wondering who he is imitating and I have a good idea who.

Bumpy ride in from Minneapolis but that’s okay, my ears were so swollen and plugged that I was yawning and chewing gum and blowing me nose and felt like my head would explode. Got to the truck and couldn’t find my parking ticket, but that’s okay, just as I was going to surrender myself to mercy of the kiosk cashier, I found it underfoot. Then my phone told me that I was about to go over my unlimited data – huh? – called Verizon, all sorts of hoops to get it straight.

But I was home – home sweet home. I came down City Park Avenue and turned on Orleans to get to the bayou and saw the Green Market in full swing so I stopped to get peaches. Ran into friends, got some coneflowers too and then, I drove my truck into a big old crater of a hole that the city made in trying to patch the roads. Thankfully Jon from Cork & Bottle came out to save me – he built a ramp from the bottoms of the orange work cones and finally after a lot of back and forth, the truck was free at last.

When I walked in the door Loca bolted in front of Tin and Heidi jumped over both of them to say hello. Welcome home!!!!

Since I was able to get over to the Walker yesterday, I decided to work in my room till I had to go to the airport, but after a while my wheezing and sneezing was getting the best of me in this hermeneutically sealed hotel so I went out for a quick walk to check out the Mississippi all the way up here in Minneapolis. I was headed with a purpose to see the Stone Bridge that a railroad baron built and came across these public bikes that have recently been installed here. Someone said that Minneapolis has more bike lanes than any other city and someone responded, “And they can use them only in the month of August, ha!” But that plan was instantly a fiasco as the coding for the bike got all screwed up and two poor civilians I pulled off the street to help, couldn’t decipher and a phone call led to more confusion and so by the time it was all over with I was out $5.49 on my credit card and time wasted.

I picked up my step and got to the river which was twinkling in the sunshine – it warmed up considerably here and it was an amazingly beautiful summer’s day. Before I arrived at the bridge I saw this building in the distance – the Guthrie Theater designed by Jean Nouvel – impressive from this point of view, but grew monolithic the more I approached it. What you are looking at here is the cantilevered part.

Next I began crossing the bridge and could see the falls and locks from a more bird’s eye view from up here. Impressive. The might Mississippi still holds her allure even towards the top of it.

As I made my way to the other side of the river, I started to follow a group of Somali children who were enjoying their last day of school with a field trip to the river. They were students of a Somali charter school.

I followed them down to the river bed and there got a more bird’s eye view back up to the bridge I had just been on.

Now to get home to New Orleans the city that defines summer heat.