Louisiana is for ???
First full day in LA was, well, full. After a ripping session of book unpacking, sorting and packing (ably assisted by my nephew, Trey), I took a shower, had lunch and headed out to J.P. Thibodeaux Automotive Superstore (they have about 4 different car brands on their huge lot) so that my sweet little Civic could have her alignment checked. An hour and 3 or 4 rows on the Nymphy Pi later, I had my baby back and headed off to Lafayette to visit with my grandmother while waiting for my mom to meet me.
My grandma is really great. She tells lots of stories about growing up, stories I've heard many, many times, but they always are interesting. One of the stories is about her father and what happened when he found out that she and her brother were secretly attending school instead of picking pepper in the fields. This was the first time that a crucial bit of information was revealed: her godfather and his wife apparantly would secret away enough pepper in their picking to cover for my grandmother and her brother. Anyway, the story is that this godfather had made arrangements with the local priest for them to attend school, so everyday they went to an empty tomb in the graveyard where they hid their work clothes and changed into school wear. They went to school, then picked up the peppers, went home and had dinner going when their father got home. Their mother knew they were not working in the fields, but kept it from their father. He found out finally from the godfather's daughter, who I suppose was a rival, and wend to the schoolhouse. My great uncle ran away, but my grandmother stayed and faced the music. She says that her father didn't beat her, but she never went to school again and has maintained that she has a mental block regarding learning to read. She can recognize familiar names and phone numbers, but she can't write.
This story, one I've heard many times over the years, never ceases to fascinate me. I wonder what she would have been like had things been different for her. And I thank her for the attention she paid to our education, encouraging me to read to my heart's content and making sure that I always got to watch Sesame Street and The Electric Company.
After a visit, I called my mom and we arranged to meet at the ball park, where Trey had All-Star practice for Little League. We pulled out the folding chairs from the trunk of her car (de rigeur for moms and grandmas, I guess), and sat down to watch the practice and wait for Trey's mom, or stepdad, or my brother, to come. I did some more knitting on the Nymph Pi (no qualms about KIP-ing for me!) while we chatted about my mom's latest project. In retirement she is keeping busy, currently working with both her elementary school (St. Paul's) and her high school (Holy Rosary) in an attempt to do some historical preservation. There is a book waiting to be written about the history of Catholic education of African Americans in South Louisiana (and if there is a book, please point me to it), and my mom is determined to do her part to help. Of course, sometimes people don't always have the same agendas, so I know she gets frustrated, but she perseveres.
When Trey's stepdad arrived, we packed up and headed our separate ways: Mom went home and I went to Hobby Lobby (to check on a couple of prints she was having framed) and to Target (to get an alarm clock). Both stops took too long, and I was wiped when I got home. My dad, who had been out fishing earlier in the day (he checks the tides daily to see if it's a good day for his favorite activity or not), fried up the catch of the day, which was delicious! With a full belly I headed for bed.
Ah, what a day. Today I head off to Lake Charles to start my classes there. I'm staying in Sulphur (aptly named, as the city is built atop a sulphur mine. I won't comment on the smell), where I'll be uploading pics to my server space so that you can see the fruits of my labors. Enjoy your day!