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| Our Lady of Louisiana Avenue |
Saturday, April 27, 2013
The Prairie des Femmes Smell
I had never lived in the country before my wedding day when I moved permanently out to the Praire des Femmes. We picked a spot about ten acres back in an overgrown field to build our house because it was nearest to the only cypress tree in the tree line. The prairie was like the jungle to me, city girl from Ville Platte. The prairie-field was rank with wild flowers, low plants like soft white rabbit tobacco, and tall plants like little blue stem and goldenrod. There were aromatic little plants, like sassafras, bay laurel, honeysuckle vines and something we called "Russian Fennel" that I loved to pick on our walks. There were fragrant bushes like the medicinal manglier and wax myrtle that I use for dark green winter bouquets and to render balsam-scented wax from their berries. There are many wild edible plants out here from dandelion, and thistle, to dewberry, blackberry and mulberry. I have planted a few different mint patches around, herb gardens, and also a couple perfumed bushes like the sweet olive, gardenia, and banana magnolia. But of all of the beautiful and scented plants we discovered or have planted on the prairie, none of them seemed to be emitting "the smell."
There was a smell in the prairie. It was like flowers but better, and I caught it in still pockets in the late afternoons. Today I am getting whiffs of it through the open doors in the house, which is rare. It's an herbal smell and very sweet and green, almost warm. It hits you right at the back of your nose and crosses your eyes its so good. It appears in spring and fall, at the change of the season. I spent a few years trying to track down its origin. We'd be walking in the back drive at dusk when the air gets still and I would freeze, having gotten enveloped in a pocket of the most beautiful smelling air. Do you smell it!?! I would exclaim to anyone around, usually my husband. I would call him over, barely daring to move, lest I disturb the pocket and dissipate "the smell"! He would sometimes get a faint whiff of it, to my full delight, but no one was ever obsessed like I was. Since its discovery, I have been like a dog after this elusive prairie smell.
I checked the little lavender bush, no, I followed the sweet smell of the banana magnolia, too, but it was distinctly its own, same with the sweet olive, or osmanthus. I spent afternoons and evenings going to check the back drive for the smell, and noticed that it got caught up in the bamboo where the air was stillest, but it wasn't the bamboo. I had theories that it was the smell of the fresh cut grass (it seemed to come out strongly after we ran the tractor) or the smell of just all of the new green growth mixed up after a spring rain. I noticed that it was often around where my husband had sewn yellow clover by the handfuls, but the clover itself didn't smell, just green. It seemed that the smell would come intoxicate me, rendering me useless to find its origin and then I began smelling it in the house, too.
I had never smelled a smell that was better than the Prairie smell, but there were similar ones. Once, in the spring, we were walking in the woods in the French Alps, and I smelled "the smell" coming off of the mountain just like it did at prairie. Additionally, we went to the Grammy Awards in Los Angeles because my husband's band was nominated for a Cajun Music Grammy. I was about a month pregnant with my first child and my senses were magnified. I kept smelling "the smell" in the Staples center, of all places, while it was filled to capacity. So I thought I must be crazy then. I asked the people around me, and they said it must be everyone's perfume; but I knew it wasn't because it was a natural smell, and perfume made me nauseated at that point. I thought I must be imagining it until the Hawaiian nominees who were sitting near us passed my seat and I got a strong whiff of their Maile Leis, a green leaf lei that was worn by Hawaiian royalty (or Grammy nominees).
These experiences helped me get closer to figuring out the priaire smell, I knew it came from a green plant, at least. One day, I was cleaning out an old box of garden seeds, and supplies when THE SMELL hit me. I remembered that it always hit me when I messed with that particular box, and now, it clicked. I tore the box apart sniffing it all, and finally came across a small cardboard box with a bag of yellow clover seeds in it. It was the smell. The yellow sweet clover! My newest theory is that it is the collective smell of the yellow clover as its small flowers open, or a breath that the patches themselves exhale in the late afternoons. I have since filled little sachets of the seeds to scent my drawers, much like the Hawaiians do with their Maile leaves. Still, I wouldn't go sewing a bunch of yellow clover in your yard. They develop a burr after they flower that hardens in the summer and makes walking barefoot across the prairie quite the compromise.
There was a smell in the prairie. It was like flowers but better, and I caught it in still pockets in the late afternoons. Today I am getting whiffs of it through the open doors in the house, which is rare. It's an herbal smell and very sweet and green, almost warm. It hits you right at the back of your nose and crosses your eyes its so good. It appears in spring and fall, at the change of the season. I spent a few years trying to track down its origin. We'd be walking in the back drive at dusk when the air gets still and I would freeze, having gotten enveloped in a pocket of the most beautiful smelling air. Do you smell it!?! I would exclaim to anyone around, usually my husband. I would call him over, barely daring to move, lest I disturb the pocket and dissipate "the smell"! He would sometimes get a faint whiff of it, to my full delight, but no one was ever obsessed like I was. Since its discovery, I have been like a dog after this elusive prairie smell.
I checked the little lavender bush, no, I followed the sweet smell of the banana magnolia, too, but it was distinctly its own, same with the sweet olive, or osmanthus. I spent afternoons and evenings going to check the back drive for the smell, and noticed that it got caught up in the bamboo where the air was stillest, but it wasn't the bamboo. I had theories that it was the smell of the fresh cut grass (it seemed to come out strongly after we ran the tractor) or the smell of just all of the new green growth mixed up after a spring rain. I noticed that it was often around where my husband had sewn yellow clover by the handfuls, but the clover itself didn't smell, just green. It seemed that the smell would come intoxicate me, rendering me useless to find its origin and then I began smelling it in the house, too.
I had never smelled a smell that was better than the Prairie smell, but there were similar ones. Once, in the spring, we were walking in the woods in the French Alps, and I smelled "the smell" coming off of the mountain just like it did at prairie. Additionally, we went to the Grammy Awards in Los Angeles because my husband's band was nominated for a Cajun Music Grammy. I was about a month pregnant with my first child and my senses were magnified. I kept smelling "the smell" in the Staples center, of all places, while it was filled to capacity. So I thought I must be crazy then. I asked the people around me, and they said it must be everyone's perfume; but I knew it wasn't because it was a natural smell, and perfume made me nauseated at that point. I thought I must be imagining it until the Hawaiian nominees who were sitting near us passed my seat and I got a strong whiff of their Maile Leis, a green leaf lei that was worn by Hawaiian royalty (or Grammy nominees).
These experiences helped me get closer to figuring out the priaire smell, I knew it came from a green plant, at least. One day, I was cleaning out an old box of garden seeds, and supplies when THE SMELL hit me. I remembered that it always hit me when I messed with that particular box, and now, it clicked. I tore the box apart sniffing it all, and finally came across a small cardboard box with a bag of yellow clover seeds in it. It was the smell. The yellow sweet clover! My newest theory is that it is the collective smell of the yellow clover as its small flowers open, or a breath that the patches themselves exhale in the late afternoons. I have since filled little sachets of the seeds to scent my drawers, much like the Hawaiians do with their Maile leaves. Still, I wouldn't go sewing a bunch of yellow clover in your yard. They develop a burr after they flower that hardens in the summer and makes walking barefoot across the prairie quite the compromise.
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| From Whence Cometh this Elufive Prairie Smelle? |
Monday, April 22, 2013
Black Cat in the Oxbow Swamp
We live along the edge of a smaller oxbow swamp near the Atchafayala Basin, which is the largest wetland and swamp in the United States. You wouldn't know the swamp that borders the Prairie des Femmes was an oxbow just from hunting or walking in it, but I've looked at it from the Google satellite map, and since it's a wild green swamp, shaped like the big curve of an oxbow, and considering that the Mississippi River himself ran down this way when he was the Teche a few thousand years ago, I figure that it's possible that the old oxbow stayed low and swamped up. It was along the backbone of this oxbow swamp one morning that I saw a big black cat.
I was going to school early that morning when the fields were still full of grey fog and the sun wasn't up yet. I was on the long dirt Prairie des Femmes road, with swamp and woods on one side, and open prairie and cow pastures on the other. I came up to a dip in the road, across from a wide cut that follows a crude barbed-wire fence all the way back into the swamp. There is a little coulee and a ditch and a few palmettos that flank the road there. As I approached through the mist, I saw to the right the silhouettes of LaGrange's sleepy cows gathered close near the fence, and at the very corner, crouched in the weeds next to the fence post, was a very large black cat. It was low to the ground, stalking the cows. When the cat realized that I was coming, my headlights were on him, he turned from the cows and crossed the dirt road in front of me, as fast as a bullet. It ran with long strides, and sleeked right through the barded-wire fence. It ran straight back though the palmettos and to the cut part that led into the swamp, where it got lost in the shadows. It was a big cat, I would estimate it was as big as a black lab or bigger, and though my first instinct was "black panther!", because it had sharply pointed ears and I can't remember seeing a long tail, I think it was a black bob cat. I continued to school, my heart racing. I told my first hour students about what had happened, and asked them if they thought it was possible for it to be a panther. They said they'd seen panthers and all kinds of big stuff back there. One of the boys, a neighbor who I know hunts way back in the oxbow swamp says, "Mais, Madame, you know dey got moose back dere, yeah!"
I was going to school early that morning when the fields were still full of grey fog and the sun wasn't up yet. I was on the long dirt Prairie des Femmes road, with swamp and woods on one side, and open prairie and cow pastures on the other. I came up to a dip in the road, across from a wide cut that follows a crude barbed-wire fence all the way back into the swamp. There is a little coulee and a ditch and a few palmettos that flank the road there. As I approached through the mist, I saw to the right the silhouettes of LaGrange's sleepy cows gathered close near the fence, and at the very corner, crouched in the weeds next to the fence post, was a very large black cat. It was low to the ground, stalking the cows. When the cat realized that I was coming, my headlights were on him, he turned from the cows and crossed the dirt road in front of me, as fast as a bullet. It ran with long strides, and sleeked right through the barded-wire fence. It ran straight back though the palmettos and to the cut part that led into the swamp, where it got lost in the shadows. It was a big cat, I would estimate it was as big as a black lab or bigger, and though my first instinct was "black panther!", because it had sharply pointed ears and I can't remember seeing a long tail, I think it was a black bob cat. I continued to school, my heart racing. I told my first hour students about what had happened, and asked them if they thought it was possible for it to be a panther. They said they'd seen panthers and all kinds of big stuff back there. One of the boys, a neighbor who I know hunts way back in the oxbow swamp says, "Mais, Madame, you know dey got moose back dere, yeah!"
Our Lady of la Tête de Poule
I take pictures of interesting Mary statues all around here. This one I found in my own yard.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Le Cajun Crawfish Tails
Mister Charlie Manuel with a commercial for Le Cajun Crawfish Tails
Le Cajun Crawfish Tails!
Ça c'est la saison pour des écrivisses
ç'après les servir bouillies
ou vous autres peux les acheter vivants.
Vous-autres a juste pour les appeller
à 363-2000 pour plaçer vos ordes
et là quand vous-autres est parés pour les ramasser
vous-autres peux juste drive by à leur chassis,
il y a un drive-thru chassis pour remplir vos ordes.
Ça c'est, c'est plus facile que rien d'autre chose,
et t'as pas besoin de descendre de votre embarcation.
Et les heures asteur sont
lundi et mardi il sont ouvert à neuve heures jusqu'à à six heures
et le mercredi à travers de samedi,
neuve heures du matin jusqu'à huit heures.
Et quand ça vient pour du poisson et du seafood,
ça vous veut
Le Cajun Crawfish est la place pour aller
pas-que eux-autres ils ont
un gros gros inventaire de tout sort de seafood pour vous-autres
quand vous-autres 'prendre le faim pour
du poisson fraîche ou
les écrivisses fraîches ou
du seafood
vous-autres a juste pour appeller
le Cajun Crawfish Tails, 363-2000
et rappellez-vous quand ça vient pour les écrevisses bouillies,
juste ça vous-autres 'près 'ergarder pour,
Le Cajun Crawfish Tails
1895 East Main icitte dans la Ville Platte!
_____________________________________________
Le Cajun Crawfish Tails!
It's crawfish season and they are serving them boiled
or you can buy them live.
Y'all just have to call at 363-2000
to place your orders,
and when you're ready to pick them up,
y'all can just drive by at their window.
There is a drive-thru window frame to fill you orders
and that is easier than anything else
you don't need to get down from your vehicle.
The hours are now
Monday and Tuesday they are open at nine until six
and Wednesday through Saturday, from nine am until eight.
When it comes to fish or seafood
whatever you want
the Cajun Crawfish is the place to go
Because them, they have a big big inventory of
all kinds of seafood for y'all
and when y'all get hungry for
some fresh fish or
fresh crawfish or
some seafood,
you just have to call
the Cajun Crawfish Tails 363-2000
and remember, when it comes to boiled crawfish,
Just what you are looking for,
The Cajun Crawfish Tails
1895 East Main
Here in Ville Platte
_____________________________________________
Le Cajun Crawfish Tails!
It's crawfish season and they are serving them boiled
or you can buy them live.
Y'all just have to call at 363-2000
to place your orders,
and when you're ready to pick them up,
y'all can just drive by at their window.
There is a drive-thru window frame to fill you orders
and that is easier than anything else
you don't need to get down from your vehicle.
The hours are now
Monday and Tuesday they are open at nine until six
and Wednesday through Saturday, from nine am until eight.
When it comes to fish or seafood
whatever you want
the Cajun Crawfish is the place to go
Because them, they have a big big inventory of
all kinds of seafood for y'all
and when y'all get hungry for
some fresh fish or
fresh crawfish or
some seafood,
you just have to call
the Cajun Crawfish Tails 363-2000
and remember, when it comes to boiled crawfish,
Just what you are looking for,
The Cajun Crawfish Tails
1895 East Main
Here in Ville Platte
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Martin Cheverolet: "King of the Basin"
Martin Cheverolet Commercial: King of the Basin
"You got your drillin' mud, you got your pine mud, but you hadn't lived until you had your Chevy Basin mud."
"Tout ça prend c'est un 'ti peu d'boue de la paroisse St Martin et puis un 'ti peu de l'eau de la rivière."
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
La Brise du Bayou Louisiana Rap ECards
Here are a few ECards made with lyrics by Louisiana French Rapper, La Brise du Bayou (The Bayou Breeze)
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| Wake up y'all it's a bad dream! Now, it's time y'all get up! It's the Bayou Breeze up in ya ears. Times have changed, it's not the same! |
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| Hpnotic in my glass. That's it. The club is hot, that's clear, that's it. Drop your ass to the ground that's it. Yeah, that's how we gonna do, That's it. |
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| Drop ya ass, Drop ya ass. Pop it, Pop it, Make it, Bump. Don't stop til ya clothes get wet. |
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| Dear Good Lord, they are attacking me like my name is Osama in the USA. |
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| Don't touch my car! If you try to steal it, it'll tell you, "Viper, Armed" |
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| Yeah, dammed good for nothin, it's astonishing! I am gonna give you something for your toothache. |
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| Yeah, in the streets until the end, we are going to continue speaking Cajun French. |
Monday, April 15, 2013
(D)Wayne Ecards
When I taught at the local high school, I had a love/hate relationship with the old school janitor, Dwayne Wayne. He taught me a lot of dirty French, because that's just how he talked. Here are a few of the insults/expressions he hurled at me daily, which I then scribbled down and collected in my "Livre de (D)Wayne"
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| You need a good slap salad! |
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| I don't want to hear you screaming in the woods, no! |
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| Force your nose in my ass and then fight for air. |
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| Well look at Miss Smith with that little nest of hair on her head! She-devil! |
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| Your brain is just like a little marble. |
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| Here Daddy, It's a little new nothing in a bottomless box! Just like you always wanted. |
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| You can just put your head in the toilet and do like you're swimmin' in the bayou. |
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Cajun Music ECards 3
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| The sun is almost set, my man's not home Couche-Couche is burning Caillette hasn't been milked Go see what time it is! Go see what time it is! |
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| What's wrong beautiful brunette? It's all for the blondes, and nothing for the brunettes. |
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| Your Mama is mad and you aren't happy! Prairie Ronde is the ruin of the youth! |
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| Lil Nate |
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| Where were you last Wednesday night? Drinking this good sweet wine and talking with a pretty girl who stole my heart from me. Cajun Music Ecards #ediusnaquin |
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| We come from England oh my dear, oh my dear, we come from England! All along the winter's melt! |
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| Pretty Blonde, now just look what you've done! |
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| "Avec un hippity hip and a hippity hop" |
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| Lower your head and fart, that's what's good for a headache. Evangeline Parish saying via LaHaye |
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| Me I am going to get my dogs after you! Lord Lord! Moise Robin |
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| The rabbit stole the pumpkin. |
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| the Good Lord understands in French |
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| Woman, you big no good! You wasted all of my happiness. |
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| Paulina Tate, give me your heart. My heart is promised to John Israel. Edius Naquin |
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