Here and there

Not that I should sound like a broken record or anything, but guess what it’s been doing outside?

Well, not quite rain, but it was misting for most of the early morning hours. Then we had intermittent sunshine for about a half an hour—our weekly allotment—and now the clouds have thickened and the wind is circulating off the ocean again. It’s supposed to be all downhill from here.

I noticed this morning, the north side of my house has adopted a green hue again this summer. I don’t know what it is exactly...I’ll just call it green slime. Between the humidity and the endless rain, it’s just blooming. There is probably no sense in trying to do anything about it until this streak of ugly weather passes. If it does.

So, for the next week, we can expect more of the same. Rain. Mist. Thunderstorms. Tropical Rain. Torrential Rain. Downpours. More thunderstorms. Floods. And let’s not forget more Rain and totally gross humidity.

But I haven’t seen a single mosquito yet this year. That’s downright weird. We’re surrounded by miles of mosquito producing salt marshes and they aren’t producing mosquitoes this year. If someone offered to give us one minute of sunshine per mosquito, I’d be tempted. But it is nice to walk outside without being pounced on by the hungry hordes.

Meanwhile, I also noticed this morning that my new redbud twigs have grown already. They have lots of new green growth that will soon become branches. At least they’re happy!

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The lad called me last night. First I’ve heard from him since Friday when he announced that he’d like to stay for at least another week. I spoke with the Dad over the weekend and we agreed that this is a good experience for him and it would be okay for him to stay longer. The lad told me last night that his Dad had extended his stay for two weeks, though the Dad admitted to me that he’d much prefer the lad to come home this weekend. He’s still nervous and still freaks out if a day passes without being able to contact the lad, who thinks it’s rather amusing, when he checks his phone at the end of the day, to find 9 missed calls from his Dad.

It’s kind of funny, really. I’ve talked more and exchanged more emails with the man in the last week than in the previous 12 years. This has not been easy for him. I am surprised that he agreed to the extension.

Anyway, the lad regaled me with stories and his doings. Somehow or other he has found himself in charge of booking entertainment for the residents and volunteers. He’s learned more about the music industry and musicians guild in the past week than he ever wanted to know. But, in any case, he managed to book a New Orleans blues group/band called Slewfoot and Cary B for a bash over the weekend. Residents by the dozens showed up until the place was packed to the rafters and they ran out of prepared food. Sounds as if it was a fantastic success and Slewfoot was extremely pleased by and grateful for the turnout. New Orleans musicians are going through lean times. As I understand it, the musicians guild (or union) will pay the musicians for gigs done for charity. Slewfoot said there was a great deal of interest in Camp Hope’s proposed music night venue. It’s a win-win for everyone.

The lad is also in charge of designing and setting up a recreation room and social center for residents and volunteers. He’s lined up artists to paint murals on the walls and he’s been foraging for stuff to develop a Bourbon Street backdrop and a bluesy/jazz theme. Foraging is not a difficult task currently. Habitat for Humanity has built them a stage platform and he’s dug up several paint and furniture donations. He’s really enjoying this.

I asked how he managed to end up with these responsibilities and he simply replied, “I offered to do it.” Guess that’s a good reason. It’s a world where normal conventions seem to be in state of suspended animation.

Oh, he’s met a girl. They’ve gone on long evening walks in the French Quarter and spent time sitting in Jackson Square talking under the stars. So far, nothing more than platonic interest—at least that’s what he tells me. They have fun together. They’ve sampled taste treats in some of the touristy spots (Cafe DuMonde’s coffee and beignets) and have enjoyed catfish that ‘tastes like butter’ in some out of the way establishment. And also Lebanese food at Mona’s in mid-city.

And, let’s see...he also got to go out into bayou country (a short hop, skip, and jump) to deliver food to some outlying residents where the poverty was unimaginable before the hurricanes. A different world he said. And a darned buggy one (he came back infested with chiggers). The people are wonderful, but he couldn’t understand half of what they said (although he is learning from one of the local vols who is fluent in the patois—is that the right word or is that considered a derogatory term?). But he understood the genuine gratitude and generous smiles. The place is really growing on him. He loves the people and the place itself.

I am quite amazed. I don’t think he’s spending much time on sleep.

And, I’ll tell you, talking with him has been a different experience the last two times. He has grown up. So much so that it takes my breath away. It’s like talking to a different person. He’s on a completely different noetic plane than he was two weeks ago. And his vocabulary is different, too. He’s obviously been hobnobbing with some philosophers. I wonder how long it will last when he comes home. Maybe it will. He’s just different. In a really good way.