Memories in My Blog, Because There Aren't Enough Corners in My Mind

I've had such fun recently, getting back into blogging.  I've even been reading many of my old posts.  (Come on, admit it.  You do that, too!)

This morning I ran across one that made me laugh out loud  (mostly made me laugh  -- there was that little encounter with Ohio State), and brought back some wonderful memories.  From early 2011:

SUNDAY, JANUARY 16, 2011

Just Another Week in New Orleans, With Pictures!

Okay -- I have a semi-serious post rolling around in my head, but first I need to get this one out of there so there's more room for reflection.  Bear with me -- this one's gonna be kinda long, but it's mostly for me so I won't forget all this stuff.  Some is kinda irreverent, but it actually happened, so documentation is appropriate.  Some is just fun memories.

This is Grandson#1, all decked out in his new Razorback gear on Christmas Eve at The Son's house.  Heh.

This is Trevor, The Son's lucky puppy, not in motion.  This needed to be documented because it's a rare occasion when Trevor, the lucky puppy, is not in motion.

This is a group of good friends and family at She-Who-Should've-Been-My-Sister's Little Rock home on New Year's Eve after we devoured all the food brought to the potluck.  SWSBMS's other home is in Hong Kong, so it's wonderful when we can all get together on the same continent in the same hemisphere.  You'll note the conspicuous absence of SIL#1.  He and his college buddies had met in Ft. Worth to watch TCU's first BCS Bowl appearance together, without wives and significant others.  Thus, Elder Daughter and SIL#1 spent their first New Year's Eve as a married couple in different states.  Elder Daughter, being Moogie's progeny, devised a way for SIL#1 to make it up to her, however; she persuaded him to secure 4 tickets to the Sugar Bowl from her FIL and went without him, taking her college friends, now living in Upstate New York, and Younger Daughter instead.  And they were Club Level seats to boot!  Clever Elder Daughter.

Here is what midnight in New York looked like on New Year's Eve at SWSBMS's house, and Pepper.  You can tell it's reallyPepper because there's a Blackberry in his hand.  Unlike at most of our recent New Year's Eve celebrations, we actually stayed out past midnight in New York, and beyond when it became midnight in Little Rock.

This is what New Year's Night looked like: a 1-1-11 wedding in the Chapel at Camp Robinson in North Little Rock.  The Son was best man (he's the squared-away, handsome one with raised saber).  I managed to catch the precise moment when the other groomsman lowered his saber to swat the Bride on the rear end and shout, "Welcome to the Army!"  The newly-married couple would leave central Arkansas on January 3rd to honeymoon at Moogie's Mansion where the Bride was lucky enough to share one bathroom with her new husband and 4 of his best friends.  The Bride was a very good sport.

Here we are at the Super Dome, getting ready to head inside to watch the Hogs trounce the Buckeyes.  There were plenty of raucous Razorback fans to add to our Sugary spirit.  And there was apparently at least one young lady (at the far right) who looks like she has not been adequately schooled in just what, exactly, a Hog Hat is.

Here are tens of thousands of Hog-callers and the Razorbacks thundering onto the field before trouncing the Buckeyes.

In cased you missed it, The Hogs failed to trounce the Buckeyes.  And that's enough about that.

Before the Big Game, several happy events, and one rather bizarre event, took place at Moogie's Mansion.  We celebrated the 30th birthday of Elder Daughter's college chum with mimosas, brunch and cake.  Cake, both birthday and wedding.

The wedding cake, and tons of other leftover wedding reception fare, was courtesy of the honeymooners, who got the very best guest room and pink roses.

After the Razorback fans departed to return to a soon-to-be-frozen-over Arkansas and other destinations, and after Moogie quickly changed a few beds and cleaned a few bathrooms, two Mardi Gras revelers arrived to join us at the CAMAN Ball -- our first big celebration of Carnival season.  Reveler#1's daughter was ever-so-slightly embarrassed by #1's gleeful immersion in the Carnival spirit.  Can you tell?  R#1's daughter was also less than pleased when Moogie manipulated several eligible young men to dance with said daughter, but she's young and will get over it.

The Ball's theme was "CAMAN Under the Big Top," and the decor was quite festive.

King CAMAN XXXVII enjoyed his entrance and hammed it up for his subjects, also showering them with doubloons of the realm.  Queen CAMAN XXXVII was regal, radiant, and very, very happy.

Following the Ball, the Revelers were snowed out of Arkansas, so their departure was delayed by three days.  We took that opportunity to turn their extended visit into "The Early Winter Eating Tour of New Orleans."  This was one lunch, at Pascal's Manale, on Tuesday the 11th -- Mushroom Ravioli with Crab Alfredo Sauce and Crabcake.  Oh my freakin' goodness! 

The Revelers got the "all-clear" to return home on the 12th, and it's been kinda quiet around here since then.

Oh yeah.  I mentioned something a few days back about ambulances and other emergency vehicles.

While we were brunching before the Big Game, Honeymoon Man meandered into the dining room from the front porch and said, "There's a Viking in a track suit leaning against your fence."  I peeked out the window, and, sure enough, there was a Viking-ish looking guy (or a lost member of ZZ Top) leaning against the fence.  I asked Honeymoon Man whether the Viking needed to talk to me, and he replied, "I don't think so."  I gave it little more thought, this being New Orleans and all.

Twenty minutes later, Honeymoon Man, having been upstairs and having looked out the window, came back down and announced, "The Viking's down."  I thought it prudent to go check on him; one male Hog Fan accompanied me as my protector, fearing that the wrath of a prematurely-roused Viking might befall me.  He took his camera.

Meet the Viking in a Track Suit.

I called to him in a loud mother-ish voice, "Sir?  Are you all right?  SIR?!?!," while also noting his rather battered and swollen face.  Then I hot-footed it inside to call 911.

Here are a few of the emergency responders.  When they finally got the Viking onto a back board and roused him a bit, they asked him the typical questions -- what's your name, do you know where you are.  To the name question, he responded with a strong display of the one-finger salute from beneath the back board straps.  To the location question, he replied, "Pennsylvania."  We're still not sure what happened to him, or who he is, but if he planned on being in Pennsylvania, he definitely took a wrong turn somewhere.

                                                   

Here are the Honeymooners with emergency responders in the background.  They kept the discarded instructions on "how to apply a neck brace" as a souvenir.

After the excitement quieted down, one police officer noticed all the people wearing Razorback tee shirts and told us he really liked the Razorbacks and wanted us to win the Sugar Bowl.  Then he said he really liked "that cheer," too.  Then he asked us to teach him how to do it.  So, with the Viking strapped to the backboard and being rolled to the ambulance, we all called the Hogs along with New Orleans first responders on the sidewalk.  The cop "woop-wooped" his siren at us and waved as he drove off.

Several of the Hog Fans were smokers.  They did not empty the ash tray provided for them on the front porch.  And you know who you are!

It was a hectic, sleepless, delightful week.  And there's lagniappe!  One pair of Fans brought a bottle of wine, another a lovely piece of Who Dat art, and the group of guys brought this delight for the nose and the palate -- 21 year-old single malt!  Ahhhh.  I didn't realize that Pepper had partaken as much of it as he has until I took this pic today; I've enjoyed one tiny snifter, preferring instead to keep it forever and savor it by occasionally removing the cork and deep-breathing the aroma.

So.  Such is life at Moogie's Mansion.  And Carnival season has just begun.

I'll sign off with this pic snapped before Christmas, en route to Little Rock, in heavy traffic.  It just reminded me of all my wonderful Blog Buddies, and a few in particular.  See if you can read the name and home base of of the trucking company.

Heh. 

So very New Orleans!  Viking in a track suit.  Heh.

See ya, C. Ray!

It took the federal jury a little more than six hours to deliberate 21 counts in the corruption trial of former New Orleans Mayor C. Ray Nagin.  The case went to the jury on Monday after 3 1/2 hours of closing arguments, and they got about three hours in the jury room that day.  Oddly enough, there was no deliberation yesterday because of a juror health "issue," and the judge thought it advisable to delay a day instead of pulling in one of the four alternates.  Probably a wise decision for appellate purposes.

Six hours.  That ain't very long, folks.  It would take almost that long to read and fill in all the verdict forms. So, what is the verdict?

TWENTY GUILTIES to one not guilty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Mayor of Chocolate City is gonna be sportin' an orange jumpsuit.

Nagin's story runs along the lines of a Greek tragedy.  He was a very popular figure during his first term -- heck, even Pepper and I voted for him the first time around.  He campaigned on corruption reform and brought a businessman's perspective to the government table.  He got along fairly well with the City Council. He was an affable, sharply-dressed schmoozer with a dynamite accent who could work a room almost as well as Bill Clinton (and that's saying something!).   And then Katrina hit, and hubris got the better of him. Combine hubris with power, cover it with a self-actuated, perceived cloak of invincibility, and you set the stage for lots and lots of corruption.  And that's what the people of New Orleans got.  With second and third curtain calls.

I sat on the Mayor's Military Advisory Committee during Nagin's tenure. During that time, we sponsored a number of activities, including job fairs, informational events, air shows, and awards.  He showed up at maybe three events over an 8-year time span.  And those were early in his first term.

His sentencing is scheduled for June, but that will probably be put off a number of times.

 (Remember, it took former Congressman William "Dollar Bill" Jefferson nearly three years to report to prison after his conviction and sentencing. Being the "model prisoner," he was transferred to a federal fenceless "camp" in January of this year.  The same camp where the infamous former Governor Edwin "the only way I won't be re-elected is if they find me in bed with a dead girl or a live boy" Edwards spent a little time before early release, after which he entered into a third marriage with a thirty-something woman who had corresponded with him during his unfortunate incarceration, and became a father again at age 86.  The creepiness factor of all that is just simply immeasurable.)

Some expect him to be shown leniency, but I have my doubts.  Remember, a number of those 20 guilty counts concern federal tax evasion, and we all know how the Feds feel about tax evasion.  He will remain under house arrest until sentencing, but I don't think he has a house in New Orleans anymore.  I wonder where he'll stay.

In other news, the former Coroner of St. Tammany Parish was also fined and sentenced today to 24 months in prison following his federal corruption conviction.  At least he offered an apology to the good taxpayers whose money he misused.

All in all, this has been an unfortunate day for corruption in Louisiana. And that's a very fortunate thing for the people of Louisiana.

Fluffy Tuesday

Did you watch the Opening Ceremonies of the Winter Olympics?  You know -- the flashy production that's going to land at least one Russian lighting engineer in the Gulag because a ring failed to light up?  Yeah -- this is a great comparison:

And, this just in:

Sad, sad fact.

I'd Check My Appetite at the Door, if I Were You . . .

. . . because it seems that a restaurant in Nigeria was recently shut down by police after a tipster let the cops in on the restaurant's "secret ingredient" -- human head meat.  Two human heads wrapped in cellophane were confiscated during the bust.  A local pastor who had consumed some of the, er, meat dish delicacy, and who was (allegedly) ignorant of its source, complained to police not about the composition of the dish, or how he suffered projectile vomiting after being let in on the secret, but about its price. Way to be compassionate there, pastor ol' pal.

As a Facebook friend noted, when aggravated in Nigeria, it's probably best not to yell "Eat me!" at the source of your aggravation.

I think it's probably best not to schedule pleasure travel to Nigeria anytime soon.

This, That, and Dogs

The thaw has set in today, just in time for the next round of winter storm to kick into gear tomorrow. About noon-ish, they're saying.  That means we need to get to the Krogerville in the morning to re-stock the wine rack.  No Sunday liquor sales in Arkansas.  Stupid, archaic Blue Laws.

We had a case of Kamikaze Birdies yesterday! A Cardinal, a Junco, and a little Chickadee were chasing one another around the deck and feeders and all 3 smashed into the windows. Really hard -- I heard the impacts from the other end of the house! Pepper went out to see how they were, got them uprighted, and petted them a little to calm them. A few minutes later, he found a box and brought the Chickadee and the Junco inside. Inside the house! On the kitchen table! He said he didn't want them just sitting out there, shivering, while they tried to recover. (At least he covered the box with some newspaper.) The Cardinal managed to fly up to the rail outside, so he left her alone. Some 15 minutes later, I heard a commotion in the next room and went to check it out. The Junco had come to his senses and flapped out of the box toward the window! Remember, we have 2 large, very interested bird dogs. Pepper managed to catch the little guy before Bouie and Mysti could, and I opened the door so he could go to  set the little guy free. He flew away, along with the Cardinal, gratefully. The little Chickadee, unfortunately, didn't make it. Pepper gave him a dignified send off. My big, bad husband is such a softie!  No bird casualties today.  Yet.

We were able to get up the hill last night, so we were also able to make it downtown to a beautiful wedding reception for a young woman we raised along with our girls, held at one of Little Rock's prettiest hotels (The Capital Hotel).  She was radiant!  I know no one particularly wants to read about the wedding of some total stranger, but that's beside the point.  This is what's important:  while we waited for the bride and groom to make their appearance, there was an open bar (always a nice thing), and passed hors d'oeuvres were served.  Oh. My. Gosh.  I now have a new favorite -- baked bacon on a stick!!! A little piece of piggish heaven -- on a stick!  The bride is a big bacon fan.

And now, to make me smile, a few dog pics:

 Our Mysti Girl, all grown up and "helping" me with my lunch.

 Sweet old man, resting up from a puppy hassling him.

 Bouie and the sunbeam -- his new favorite nap spot.

 Mysti, performing her version of "cute" on her birthday.

 More cute.

 Bouie apparently likes this spot, too.

 Ol' Bou is growing more and more gray hair.  Pepper calls him "Graybeard."  Talk about pot and kettle . . .

 Mysti like to play with the neighbor Border Collie pup through the fence -- can you see the Border Collie snout and paw poking through at the corner?

 Bouie has a raccoon.  And, apparently, a little anxiety.  Look at those ears!

 More cute and perky.

 Mysti is what we like to call a "leaner."

 Lunch companions.

 Christmas duck (that we had to hide from them before they drove us nuts with the quacker!)

I love this grin!  Baby fox, seen on the floor, is now a baby Fox-cicle since Miss Mysti took him through the doggie door and left him in the snow.  Big Fox is now just a fox torso since he was the biggest loser in a game of tug-o-war.

 Watching "The Life of Pi" and hating on some wild hogs (in the previous scene -- I know that's an elephant on the screen now).

Life is good when you're off the leash.  Happy Sunday!

Your Botany Lesson of the Day

Someone who really knew what  they were doing landscaped Moogie's Manor.  There is always something flashing color, no matter the season.  Right now we have scads of bright red holly berries showing off next to the deep green leaves.  And there is always visual interest.  My gosh, Autumn was fabulous!! There was so much color you could almost hear it.

One of my favorite plants is pictured above -- it's a Harry Lauder's Walking Stick.  The leaves are very soft -- almost fuzzy.  Ours is just outside the front door, and you look right at it from the office windows.  See it on the left?

It's a member of the Filbert family, but doesn't usually produce.  This is what it looks like today, wearing a "dusting" of snow (Yep, the weatherfolk predicted a "dusting" of snow last night.  Cars were crashing into one another all night out there in the dust storm. We got over 3" of dust.):

And a closer-up, after the ice storm on Sunday:

I mean, how cool is that ?!?!

The literature says it flowers in the spring before leafing out.  I can't wait!

Class dismissed.

Can We Say, "Overkill?"

The opening paragraph of an article in today's  Arkansas Democrat-Gazette reads:

Police arrested a 52-year-old man Wednesday who was trying to hold up a bank branch using a small cannon-shaped figurine.

The article goes on to describe how the man placed the figurine on the branch manager's desk in Fort Smith and belligerently demanded "thousands of dollars."  The manager was able to set off the bank's alarm and police were soon on the scene.  They arrested the man and charged him with disorderly conduct, public intoxication (surprise!), and attempted aggravated robbery.

Wait. What?

Aggravated felonies contemplate the use of some sort of deadly weapon.  The Wiki says, "aggravated robbery involv[es] use of a deadly weapon or something that appears to be a deadly weapon."

Not that I'm advocating bank robbery or anything, but classifying what occurred in Fort Smith as aggravated anything seems a bit over the top.  And I understand that society is growing way too Second Amendment-phobic, and kids get suspended from school for drawing pictures of guns, but seriously?  The guy was soused!  I doubt one can even form the requisite scienter when he is that plowed.  

I'd better go tell Pepper he needs to file for a permit for that model cannon that was given to him by the Field Artillery battalion when he left command of the 39th. We wouldn't want him to get thrown in the hoosegow for possession of an unregistered decorative item.

Have we arrived at a point in history where we must register scary tchotchkes?

I'd say that very idea is scary enough.