It's Okay We're Country

Usually when I see an amazing car decal, it's a guy's truck. Not so here! The girl who owns this truck was on break behind a restaurant on Main Street in Ville Platte. She showed me the fresh squirrel tail tied to her antenna, from her very first squirrel kill, she said. She then directed me to the back glass, which she said she designed and drew herself. I don't know who she was, but she just might be the coolest gal in Evangeline Parish.

Let it Slide, Love Country Life, Erin Loves Yoon:)

The things that are important to an Evangeline Parish Country Girl

Journals from 2002-2004

Things I learned on the Tasse Cafe Radio Program VOL 1

 I went to Vidrine Elementary in 5th grade, and every morning I carpooled with Miss Debbie Fontenot from where I lived on Pine Street to the west side of town and on to Vidrine. On the 20 minute drive to school, Mrs. Debbie listened to the news in French and I loved it. There were advertisements for local businesses in French and local and state news and announcements, as well as the Tasse de Cafe Radio Program, where people can call in to ask questions or reminisce in local French. I remember listening and looking out of the window at the foggy cow fields all the way down the Vidrine Road. I used to imagine that I could understand it like Mrs. Debbie did. I probably did understand some. I understood little things like "trois-six-trois" because all of the telephone numbers in town started with 3-6-3, things like that, and because the French was interspersed with English, it made it even easier. Sometimes Mrs. Debbie told us what they were saying, or she'd laugh. Never did I realize that this radio program out of 92.5 KVPI in Ville Platte, would be a catalyst in my life and that one day I really would be able to understand the program and even learn by transcribing the ancient/modern French they speak.

THINGS I LEARNED FROM THE TASSE DE CAFE RADIO PROGRAM

Monday October 7,  2013

On a pas eu quek rapport de grosse chasse des éceruils qu'a pris place ce weekend. Personne après se vanter de leur report, ça fait, j'connais pas. (We haven't had a couple of reports of the big squirrel hunt that took place this weekend. No one is exaggerating their report, so, I don't know...)

Fie (?) means manière doucement... le monde est manière fie à ce matin. (Fie means kinda slow...the people are kinda slow and lazy this morning.)

Tomorrow night is the opening of the Cotton Festival with the Contradance and the Crowning of the King and Queen of Heritage Manor.

Sulfur powder and oil gets rid of la gale. Or you can dip 'em in dat kreosote. Dat'll cure dat dog with da gale. I promise you.

Gearing up for Squirrel Weekend on the Platin

Here are some clips from the Platin social media about the coming of Squirrel weekend. Merci beaucoup to PDF contributor Monsieur Al.

The People of Evangeline Speak Part Deux 2013 Edition

Here, I collect the status updates and other information shared by South Louisiana people on squirrel day. Click here to see last year's edition. Click here to read about squirrel day.

 

 No, Mama, you can not suck the squirrel heads anymore!

My girls still think its disgusting that I eat squirrel brain. It's sweet like candy.

Why are there walnuts in the squirrel gravy?

Don't shoot dem damn squirrels in da head! -Leonard Guillory

Jealous of everyone heading off to the woods........try to leave some in the trees 

I Would Say its a good week! Became Godparents Yesterday and today I Officially own my Property! now just to kill a few squirrels

The weekend of the squirrel! All of Ville Platte will be a ghost town and the woods filled with happy hunters, cold beer, whiskey drinks, camp fires, great smelling food and good times!! Haha. 

Happy "Squirrel Weekend" everyone!

Squirrel dayyyyyyyyy!

Happy Squirrel Day!

Happy Squirrel Day! Although I am not in the woods back home in Louisiana, I'll celebrate with a nice highball in a red solo cup!

Happy Squirrel day Ville Plattians!

Happy Squirrel Day... Father and son off to the woods :)

Today would be one day that I would live to be back in Ville Platte. So Sad that no one else participates in Squirrel Day!

Happy Squirrel Day to my friends back home! Ladies, make me proud and shop till you drop :)

Men head to the woods and women head to the stores. Ville Platte seems to close its doors to the rest of the world.....SQUIRRELWEEKEND

While the boys are away, the girls will........SPEND MONEY!!!! Happy Squirrel Day Ladies!

I keep thinking about the Miss Alice's squirrel sauce piquante and how the b.b.'s would go ting ting ting on the plate when you spit them out... 

Speaking of Squirrel Day, my friend Emily Porche' sang last night on Jimmy Fallon about "eatin' squirrel brains" ... Great way to start off squirrel weekend!

 

“Your song tonight is a love ballad, very emotional song, it’s called ‘Eatin’ Squirrel Brains’" Fallon tells the first contestant. 

STOP! Squirrel Time.

Beech Nut Still In His Mouth: An Evangeline Parish Ex-Pat Remembers Squirrel Day of His Youth

 

From my younger years in the 70’s, I remember with distinct clarity, the palpable excitement in the air as the opening day of Louisiana squirrel season approached. Long before Facebook and Twitter, or Budget day, men and boys at schools, stores, and bars, busily chatted of special spots, careful not to reveal exact locations, but trying to figure out locations others were speaking of.  As the season neared, we spent hours in the woods looking for cuttings, where squirrels were feeding, “calling” spots, which gave unofficial stake to a found bevy of squirrel activity. More hours putting thought into, and discussing the “best” hunting clothes and shells, and packing them.

The day before the season opened, the loaded pickups and campers headed to the woods. Supper eaten around the fire, men drinking beer and whiskey, boys overdosing on pop and messing with the fire, anxiously asking each other, “so where’re you going tomorrow?” It was hard to sleep that night, thinking about the next morning, and through the tipsy men’s snoring.
The next morning came with a wave of excitement, not even overtaken by presents under the tree at Christmas. Men chuckled at the boys, who were afraid to get out too late and miss the first movement, and gave them last minute advice. “Move your eyes, not your head, even if a mosquito bites you”. “Listen for the whoosh of the branch that a squirrel jumped on, or the scrape of claws on bark”. “Don’t get impatient and move too soon.”
I remember feeling hurried during the trek through the woods by flashlight, to the prescouted spot of known squirrel activity. “What if it gets light earlier today”. I remember feeling even more hurried as I tried in the dark to pick a sitting spot with the best view of the cutting tree, sometimes sitting at several spots. The whole affair climaxed as first light began to filter through the trees, and tension built as the time neared for gray squirrels to begin moving. I remember being a bit mad when I heard shots before I saw something, worried someone was getting ahead of me, and maybe I picked the wrong spot. Then….that telltale whoosh of a branch with the jumping weight of a squirrel in the still air. My heart would race so much I had to fumble for the safety of my shot gun.
There he is, looking like a thin string flying along the branches in the dim light! Gun comes to shoulder, but he’s gone, bitter disappointment and trembling hands, the gun comes down. There he is again! Gun comes up, but he’s running and zig zagging too fast to find at the end of the barrel. Then gone again. Man, I’ll never kill one today. Then, there he is, shaking the end of the big beech tree I found the cuttings under. A trembling aim, and BOOM! And…..nothing. Oh, man…how did I miss. I won’t cry, but I sure want to. Then, thump, thump, POOF!, The squirrel finally falls, hitting branches on the way down to that satisfying thump on the ground.
I should wait to see if there’s more, but I can’t help but run over to where I think he fell. There he is, with pretty soft fur, beech nut still in his mouth. I pick him up and admire him for a few minutes, noticing all the little ticks on him, before sliding him in my bag. The shooting of other hunters reminds me I need to get going if we’re gonna be eating brown gravy tonight, so I move off, constantly feeling behind me to make sure he’s still in the bag.
Getting back to camp after the squirrels quit moving, we each felt the need to discuss, in complete detail the full sequence of events that lead up to each squirrel seen, complete with dramatizations. Then, that night, there was somewhat of a blissful feeling, eating squirrel and brown gravy, cooked by master chefs. I remember feeling sorry for the women folk who had nothing better to do than go shopping.


Bryan LaFleur, grew up in L'anse Grise, a suburb of Mamou, La. He joined the Marine Corps right after high school, which had a huge and long lasting impact on him. After enlistment, he ended up in NE Texas, though he is not sure how. He has reconnected with his Cajun cultural roots in SW Louisiana through the language and music with the help of his parents and friends. Bryan is an artist who makes incredibly beautiful Cajun Accordions (check out L'Anse Grise Accordions) and is also fluent in Franglais, Cajun French and Korean. Who knew?! Bryan is a fireman in the Dallas metroplex, and, he says, is lovin' it. (via Facebook)

The author with some another catchs, in Lanse Grise 1980 (via B. Lafleur, Facebook)

Prairie des Femmes Compass Rose