Exploring and Encouraging a Healthy Life Marked with Joy

Posts tagged ‘New Orleans’

Five Friday Happy Bringers — 5/8/15

I love the month of May.  There’s something hopeful, potential, expectant about its very name, “May.”

And here come a few more of my Joy Causers this week:

1.  Granddog Spyro.

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2.  The difficult (for me) but truthful freedom of this declaration:

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3.  Incredible sand art outside one of the classroom buildings at SCAD (Savannah College of Art and Design).

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This is a collaborative class project called “The Art of the Spectacle.”

4.  Loving every moment of Grandson Daniel’s performance in the Savannah Children’s Theatre Dance Program Recital, “Dance Around the World” last weekend.

Can you see D in the lower right hand side of the dance teacher’s selfie?

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(Shouldn’t that really be called an “usie” or a “themsie”?)

5.  Coffee and beignets at Huey’s on River Street this morning.

Okay, I LOVE New Orleans, but our beignets here in Savannah are fritters better than theirs at Café du Monde.

YOU SIMPLY MUST KEEP READING BECAUSE I HAVE A FEW MORE THAN MY USUAL FIVE HAPPY BRINGERS.

6.  Enjoying the simple beauty of the community Trustees Vegetable Garden (across from my place on East Broad Street here in Savannah).

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7.  Daughter Amy’s birthday celebration (with a lil help from grandson Gabriel).

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8.  Robert’s homemade (first time ever) egg rolls.

Yum!

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9.  Rejoicing in the incredible ability to breathe deeply.

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MAY you have many reasons to smile this Mother’s Day weekend!

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Five Friday Happy Bringers — 10/17/14

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Okay, I know I haven’t done the Happy Bringers the past couple of Fridays.  Sorry!  I’ve been traveling up a storm, first to New Orleans and then to Atlanta.

Here’s a Bunch of Stuff I’m Happy as a Lark About Lately:

1.  Laughing and saying, “Seriously?!” every now and then.

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(If you decide to get them for me for Christmas, I want the sky blue.  Thank you.)

2.  Carving Jack O’Laterns with grandchildren.  (Part of my job description.)  First with Daniel and Gabriel.

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Then with the grandtwins Matthew and Madison.

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3.  Discovering Jonathan Adler (and his beautiful homegoods) in Atlanta’s hip Westside Provisions District.

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(With the hat, I was going for an older, white man version of Pharrell.)

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4.  Doors that won’t open.  [We (okay, I) don’t need to go through every door.]

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5.  Happy little bathrooms.

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6.  Delicious breakfast sandwiches.  (Fried egg with tomato jam at MetroFresh in midtown Atlanta.

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7.  All things New Orleans.  (I went to make a presentation at the 2014 Popular Culture in the American South Conference.)

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Have a joyful fall weekend!

(P.S.  I forgot to stop at FIVE.)

 

GRANDstanding

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Okay, okay, I admit it. After getting over the terror of my slightly (?) insane old-age-related fear of becoming a grandfather, I have come to LOVE this joyful status in life. And if you’ve read my blog much at all, you’ve seen the grandies: brothers Daniel and Gabriel, and grandtwins Matthew and Madison.

Simply put, they offer me such tremendous happiness, especially since they live right here in my Savannah.

For example, yesterday afternoon, as I twinsat (is that a word?), Matthew wanted a back massage. How do they learn that at 20 months?  So he climbed up on the couch.

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And  directed me with his little hand, as he watched The Disney Channel.

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I will treasure those four minutes.

And earlier in the day, after the Savannah morning downpour stopped, the twins puddled their way to fun.

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Daniel and Gabriel whooped it up in New Orleans last weekend at the Louisiana Aquarium, the N.O. Children’s Museum, and the IMAX.

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I really love being Abu.

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Elephant Ears & Spiritual Readings

Is there a botanical specimen you’re just WILD about?  There certainly is for me!  It’s the Elephant Ear (Colocasia esculenta in plant taxonomy).  And not just because they make my big ears look smaller (though, of course, that’s part of it).  Elephant Ears also exude a mysterious mystical and magical quality.

Okay that sounded rather silly and new age-y.  So I’d better explain.  But when you hear the WHOLE story, DO NOT JUDGE ME!  Or at least do not judge me too harshly.  Deal?  (If no deal, you’re not allowed to read the rest of this post.)

Well, I have always simply adored the Elephant Ear family of luciously leafy plants.  But my REAL love affair with EE’s heated up last October when I trekked to New Orleans to make an academic presentation at the Popular Culture Association in the South annual conference.  Really, I’m telling the truth.  Okay, fine, here’s proof:  a blurb from the conference program:

Saturday 11.8 Pedagogy (Babylon) [DVD/Monitor]

Chair: Michael Moeder, Salisbury University

“A Presentation Software By Any Other Name: The Light and the Dark of Shakespearean Powerpoint Presentations in College English Classrooms” Mark King and David Janssen, Gordon College

“The Visual Essay: Thinking and Playing Outside the Paragraphs” Neal Saye, Georgia Southern University

“Teaching Students to Write for TV and Film: A Comprehensive Plan for the Undergraduate Dramatic Scripting Course” Michael Moeder

So maybe mine doesn’t sound quite as smart as the other two.  But I had lots of visuals, with continual streaming over two screens!  And handouts!  And samples of student work!  And I gave out colored construction paper and had everyone do little projects!  (My hypothesis is that a few bells and whistles, along with hands-on tinkering, can make up for intellectual depth.  And besides, it was Saturday morning, for heaven’s sake.)

The Elephant Ear connection is coming, I promise–just give me a minute or two.

When I got to the Hotel InterContinental on St. Charles to check in, I used the Winning Strategy a friend taught me years ago: ALWAYS ask if an upgrade is “possibly available.”  But BEFORE you ask, set the stage: say something either Pitiful with a Touch of Humor (“I’m SO glad to FINALLY get here to your BEAUTIFUL hotel. My flight was SO turbulent!  I prayed more in those two hours than I have in the past two decades!  But what a peaceful aura both in this gorgeous lobby AND coming from you!  Thank you so much!” or something excitedly exuberant, again with an attempt at a tad of humor (“New-Party-Orleans!  I’m HERE!  And you’re my INCREDIBLE host/hostess!  Can you show me around when you get off work?  THANK YOU for having me!  You RULE this city!).  Then smile like you’re high on beignets and plead for the upgrade.  IT WORKS.  SO VERY OFTEN.  Try it.

I did.  And Bam!  I was given a Club Level upgrade with full food and drink privileges and a nifty elevator key card that whisked me up to the exclusive Executive Floor.  (Another thing, always buy a thank you card and give it to your benefactor during your stay.  It’s good karma.)

Swinging from chandelier in “the club”:

So the second night in Nawlins, after Wandering around Bourbon Street and Wondering, both quietly to myself and out loud to my fellow conference attendee friends, “Do those people on that balcony KNOW they are sorta naked?” and “Why am I catching all these beads?  I have forty strands now”  and “That’s a real alligator that monkey is holding, isn’t it?!” I left the decibels and the adult circus, and meandered over, first to sweet Cafe Du Monde, and then to Jackson Square.

With powdered lips I walked the square’s perimeter, taking in the colorful display of late night street performers, vendors and musicians.

My watch yawned midnight, but my heart gave me the injunction: walk around the square again, and if I make “comfortable, knowing” eye contact with a spiritual reader, I will stop and, uh, be read or whatever.

I walked slowly, my footfalls methodical and audible.

Two-thirds around, I saw her.

A tiny, wisp of a woman from the islands wearing a bandana and clenching a shawl in the sticky October heat.  She sat at a card table.  Breaking eye contact first, I walked on, feeling silly.  So we made eye contact–but “comfortable and knowing”?  I don’t think so.  Looking back confirmed my foolishness.  Her gaze had dropped.  Nothing but a bird-like woman beginning to close up shop.

Until she turned her body toward me and smiled.  A caramel Mona Lisa.  An inviting mystery.

Thirty minutes later I walked away from Ms. Michelle with 1) a small elephant ear plant wrapped in wet paper towels and 2) ears resounding with what I had heard.

“You live near moving water, a river, an ocean, which is good.  Go embrace it often.  You need the movement of water.  You’re too rigid.”

Many other words and images left me, not shocked or awed by their relevancy and accuracy, but at peace with the connectedness of us all, the encouragement of strangers who are not strange after all.  Oneness.

“What do you want to ask?

I had two queries.  The first concerned the number four (my favorite number).  I loved her mathematics.  They confirmed what I knew–that all is well.

The second, as I took in the sight and smell of her small display of Mason-jarred summer leftover blossoms and greenery: “May I have that elephant ear?”  The green beauty had caught my eye from the start, small but holding its own, even without vibrant yellow or red.

“Of course.  It’s for you.  Take it.  Plant elephant ears, pick them.  Put them under your pillow.  They are health and good to you.”

Maybe I gave Michelle all the answers by coming to her, by asking questions.  Maybe I heard what I knew already.  Maybe I embraced the sugary night too tightly.  But I walked away buoyed by knowing.  Knowing that encouragement takes a myriad of forms.

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Unexpectedly I saw Michelle the next day in the sunlight.  We hugged and smiled, amped up in the brightness, having taken care of deep talk the night before.

Later in that final day of my New Orleans stay, I stumbled across the Jean Lefitte National Historic Site and Preserve.

But what was REALLY cool is what I found there:

Water.  And Elephant Ears.  Across the street from the mighty Mississippi River.

Back home in Savannah, one day I strolled the campus of Armstrong Atlantic State University, and here’s what I found:

Huge Elephant ears.

Oh, I planted my own Elephant Ears.  This summer they grew beautifully:

(Excuse me for looking a bit like Captain Kangaroo in the above pic.  Google him, kids.)

Moral of story (at least for me):  Listen.

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