Lately... I've Reflecting ..

 Sometimes, one must cut a new road through the forest, clearing the brush, felling the tall trees, and creating another path. 

The scope of work in Mississippi is rewarding; it brings back memories of past accomplishments of not-so-nice events.

It's a Saturday here on the brick streets of Mayre Street (pronounced Mawr Reee ). I have to draw that reeeee out .

It's late on a Saturday afternoon, all the yards are cut, it's headin' toward the cocktail hour....   and the slow, dim light of Fall is almost here.

Nothing special to write about, it's a time of remembering folks, and past times, and the atmosphere is a house full of friends that is no longer here... gone but not forgotten... It's difficult for me to break into a new social group; the last one was that ill-fated Mardi Gras Krewe...  One party was enough for me...    just not my type of friendship circle..... friendly people, just not my type.. no common tie. An one must remember, where one is located... the OutBack of Louisiana looms in ever present here. 

Well, I am rambling. I'll have brazed green beans with pork tenderloin on the Egg and several glasses of Saviongon Blanc.

As I read my daily blogs, .. It sets my memory to .........

 As I read my daily blogs, I remember times past—to the time that I was more active, to the times that I was but inches from falling 1000 feet down on a Goat Trail near Ghost Ranch in New Mexico, hiking the Black Mesa outside of Santa Fe, or watching for bear or cougar as you  slapped your way through the cedar brush while negotiating an arroyo.   

But those were 20 years ago. In the present day, I trek the brick streets of the Lil City by the Red.

The photos above are from my travels and hikes in New Mexico, where I truly felt the Spirits of the Past and Present   Times long Ago... Such Happy times for me and Exciting as I challenge myself to venture out.

Time is Passing

 I received notice from back on Mockingbird Hill,  that an old friend of the family was on his deathbed. Time is Passing, and my generation is becoming the elders; even tho I think I am 56, I am far more down the road.  

I hate the Age description; I prefer to be referred to as That White-headed Man down the street, or Old  tall fat man who drives that big black truck, etc. Not some Aged Gezzer.... 

Jimmy, the guy about to pass to the Greater HereAfter. , was the Mayor of the small southern town across the creek,  as was his father and grandfather. Three generations of the same family held sway over a small community of now of 3500.   They owned the local dairy, which was up past our place. It was named 100 Cedars Dairy because of all the Cedar trees on the gravel road leading into the main milk barn.      Jimmy saw the growth his father and grandfather had wished for, making an actual Fire Department, the Main Streeting program showcase local businesses.  He also saw the decline in population because his grandfather was the town's mayor; it was 5000 folks in 1918.   Jimmy saw the consolidation of the farm and the closing of local schools  But he also  was progressive,  during his first term in office, he removed the sign that Said, " Welcome to Jackson, Where the Old South Still Lives". That was more than 30 years ago. When the feelings were still strong and arrogant. 

 He had a shared sense of dignity and of the people's thoughts and their mindsets.     

About This Time

 About this time each year, we begin to have orange butterflies dancing around the flowers. So, again this year, my curiosity has taken over lately, and I wanted to add to the blog little information to make it more enjoyable to the readers who frequent it.  

So here is the butterfly: 

The name is Asterocampa clyton. It is called The Tawny Emperor. This is a species of brush-footed butterflies native to North America. The Butterfly book says not to confuse it with the Hackberry Emperor.

This Emperor flew near the Lirrope bed and landed on the house siding. I took the photograph with the iPhone. Which, to my surprise, gave me the species' name and some history. Its host plant is Hackberry trees, which there is a large one on the property line with my neighbor.

Yard Maintenance, Porch Sitting, Life in Slow Lane

 Here in the Garden District, you know that September has arrived due to the number of folks who are porch sitting. Folks start to come out around 5pm, try to catch a slight breeze, and enjoy the conversations of neighbors.  Yard Mowing on Saturday is the designated day in the Garden District to take care of your lawn, even though I have two guys to cut my yard twice a month, during the peak,  from late March till October, then once a month from October till early March.

Life here is returning to the slow lane; my consultant work is heading to a successful completion with the hopeful accreditation of two units on MDOC. Life is Good. Other than a little backache and muscle spasms, I'm doing well.  Life is back to the Slow Lane.   I plan on visiting friends in the lower country below I-10 here soon if we don't have another hurricane. Sweet Potato season is here also. They say the crop tasted great this year.

MAH and Post Script of Mississippi

 MAH emerged from the underbelly of the drug world in Lafayette, LA, to reappear yesterday.  I had taken him to Steps Treatment Center in Lafayette to begin a 28 to 36-day program, with an aftercare/three-quarters home after the initial completion. This was on August 30th, 

He walked out of the facility on September 9th, with only the clothes on his back, back into a drug world; my family nor I had heard from him since September 9th.   He was on the streets of Lafayette.

His family and close friends began a valiant search for him on September 10th, after the notification came in from the center that he walked out the door.    It was an agonizing ten days.... whether he was dead, or had OD, or what.

His reappearance was made late yesterday when he stole a bicycle from a residence in Lafayette. That is the only confirmation that we have. 

I feel for his parents, his relatives, and close friends. His mind is sick, period.  I told the family last night I would not continue to help, and I am closing his file.     

PostScript:

I made it in from Mississippi later yesterday, I spend most of my time walking and inspecting, talking and teaching the techniques of accredditation.  My most somber time was spent in the area of the Women's Death Row..... I reflected upon that expereince all day yesterday as I traveled the back roads of Mississippi to come home...... I am glad I am Home.!!!

The Realization is Now

 MAH walked off from the treatment center days ago.  He has not been heard from since. The stark realization that he could not be on this earth crosses his parents' minds.  

Addiction is an evil that destroys people by their own hands.  I hope MAH is still alive. But something tells me he is no longer of this world.

PostScript:  Tomorrow, I leave and travel East, across the Big Muddy, to our neighboring state to the East, to impart my gathered knowledge of almost 50 years in the business.  My business partner and I are working at a facility in an attempt to collect the staff and help them achieve accreditation.   I will be in the Magnolia State till Thursday.

In the End ...... Its what you make of Your Abode

 Here is a photo of the  House I currently call home. Which unitl I pass on to he Greater HereAfter Will be my Home 

When I started this blog, as I have stated i hadd one on diaryland.com prior to this one

 That DiaryLand.com Blog was some on my best writing,  early life events from my memory,  my momma's passing and the aftermath of it all, 

I have tried several times to find some how to access the site but to no avail.   I would suppose the writing is out there on the web somewhere in cyberspace...  I wanted to add that to my current blog because I am interested in 1991 to the Present (2024) and beyond.  Life of an Evolving Gay Man from the Deep Rural South that had invested in the human actions of Life among the Population of this Great State 

Lame... Just Lame

 We have had heavier thunderstorms that Francine .....  She is a Whimp..... a Lil' Silly Girl......

 Boo Francine  Go b back to whre U came From....  You Aint Shit 

Francine couldn't even must a good Gully Washer..... Blah

Tis 6:02AM. The Front porch door is Open So i can hear the deluge coming .

 Here I sit in the Office listening to the deluge of rain, The raindrops are as large as quarters, hitting the Magnolia leaves ... almost tearing them off the stems.  but (and there is always a but) there is no wind.  

Francine is quiet and gentle at the moment; the track of the hurricane has shifted to the East, 60 miles to the East, which makes a huge difference.    We are no longer in the path of the Eye of the hurricane, and we are on the Western side,  

If you were born as I was in Louisiana, this is just a bad rainstorm at the present. The earliest I can remember was Audrey, then came Bestsy, then Camille came ashore at Gulfport and erased my Aunt and Uncle off the Map; they stayed in their 30 feet concrete Pilion deep home, which was built as hurricane-proof; not even the slab was left... they did find the Lincoln Continental 9 miles north of the home, which was on the Gulfport Ms. Beach.   Then came Katrina ... between Katrina and Francine, it's been a number of storms.... 

The lesson here is that if you live down here, you embrace Our Lives, Bugs, Hurricanes, and three-digit heat nowadays. 

More to come as the day progresses and Yes Harvey, I will take Photos LOL 

One Failed Attempt, One Glorious Time

 As I type, it's raining, raining, raining. The Outer Bands are beginning to swirl down around Morgan City.

 All. the Shrimp Boats have traveled up the Bayous so they won't be swamped by the tidal surge ... Most grocery shelves are empty

I made pork smoked tenderloin/sausage jambalaya...... in the big black iron pot... 

MAH is the Failed one. He decided to walk out of treatment yesterday. He's roaming the wet, semi-flooded streets of Lafayette. Maybe it will wash some sense into his head. O well, that's another story for another day.

I'm Cooking is the glorious one.....If we get some good wind and some more rain, I'll post some photos,  but I think Francine is going to be less than exciting.    If the pace picks up tomorrow, I will let you all know.

Here She Comes.... its Lil Ms. Francine

I must go to the liquor store here today or later today. It seems that on our back door, wanting an invitation to the hurricane party, we have Lil Ms. Francine knock it out.

It seems she is going to pay a visit to the Little City by the Red. We are supposed to be in her Direct Path.

Fun Times, get two extra magnums of wine, some yellow cheese with the Red rhine, and a whole lot of crackers... 

Hopefully, won't be too much, just enough to blow the lovebugs away from I-49 down south.

MAH is down there at the treatment center getting his 28-day dry-out. I don't want him to get swamped, but a little bit freaked out won't hurt the fellow.

Yes, Sir.. the first time in a long time. Hurricane Party... 

Well What can I say... Its raining as Expected .. Living in the OutBack and Gettin' Out (Some of Us, But not me)

 Yes, it's an off-and-on rain—the one that comes stops, pity pats, then rains frogs, then a light drizzle, and the pattern completes and begins again. 

It's Friday..... It's Beer 30dree ..... with chips..... and a Gouda with Hatch Chiles ... Hell Yer.... its damp, musky, wet.... what ya goin' to do.... drank and write for sure....  I was at the local liquor store. Hokus Pokus.. the one with the MAgic Ghost waiving her arms.   In the beer cabinet was Red Stripe... we haven't been able to sip on Red Stripe in a long time.....  Sometimes, living in the OutBack of Louisiana, you got to drink what u can get. So when I saw the Red Stripe, I snatched it up.........

Talkin about living in the OutBack,  some folks seize the opportunity to expand their selves and become enlightened,  Some leave and go seek their own fortunes ... so seek to broaden their personal being... and then some .. a few have an idea between their ears that they can make it and rely on that inner strength to overcome the obstacles of life and Be rewarded with knowing they cut their Own Path. They climbed to the Top of the Mountain and got the Prize.

So, it happened to a dear friend of mine over 20 years ago; he sold his car,  packed his meager belongings, and hopped on a plane to New York City with no return flight...  He climbed that mountain, fell off a few times, got scuffed up, patched up, and became a success in the film industry...  He's been my dear friend for over 30 years now...   He has a merchandise brand, and I ordered my first custom t-shirt from his site.   www.bourbonandbranchshop.com

You can see his handsome face and read all about him. When you come from the Outback of Louisiana and reach the top of the mountain, your friends must scream your name out and Cheer for You. That is what I am doing. I am so proud. 

Hurricane Winds Might be Blowing..

 Louisiana, sometimes is  Hot Mess. Literally.... We have been having rain for the last three days, mold is creeping back into the cracks.   The other Hot mess is if u were born in Louisiana, you know that you love a good story,  whether it be just a tale of Hot Mess,  Old Boy Politics, or the guy next door crawling out the back window of the Widow's house three doors down, as the preacher knocks on the front door checking on her. 

The weather map indicates three tropical depressions near or close by the Gulf. If they get in the Gulf of Mexico, with the warm water at its peak and no cold front moving down, we could be without electricity soon. Then, it's partying on. If someone declares a Hurricane Party... the BBQ pits will be going, store shelves will be empty, and bottled water will be in short supply... but everybody's beer boxes will be stocked full...  

We will know in the next 72 to  96 hours whether we are going to sweat for a few days or not.

Reading the Sunday Paper

 I remember, many years ago, Cousin Em, bringing my Momma donuts and the Sunday paper.  Cousin Em was my Daddy's first cousin; he was the Classic Southern Gentleman born in 1884, raised in. the culture of the Deep Deep South.  When  My Momma became a widow at the death of my Daddy in 1962, my Father was born in 1903). it was the duty of the Thompson Cousins to see after my Momma and the Children (of which I was the eldest).   My cousins were like Grandparents to my siblings and me. 

Cousin Em always brought us donuts and the Sunday Paper. Once he read it, he would drive up in his car, take his driving gloves off, put them on the steering wheel of his auto, put his Stetson Hat on his head, and come knock on the front door.  

I enjoyed reading and having conversations with Cousin Em on Sunday mornings on Mockingbird Hill. As a side note, Cousin Em's place was named Glencoe. 

So, today, I purchased a subscription to the WSJ. I have had one in the past but let it lapse. As I read the online version, drinking my drip coffee, eating smoked boudin, the memories of the past flooded back: Cousin Em, the conversations, Momma at the kitchen window, gloves on the steering wheel; the Past of the now Gone Past.