Redfish Kisses.

Lord Help. Since my last post, I have had many adventures. I have uncovered more of the Red Stick, gone fishing, and traveled back to Kaintuck. Last Sunday I went crabbing in Southwest Louisiana. I got up at the break of dawn, purchased a one day fishing license (which was a whopping $15 bucks), got a six pack of beer, and headed out to the great Louisiana Dawn. Being a good sport, I volunteered my car as our transport. Pulling into the parking lot next to the pier, my cohorts and I fail to acknowledge the eight foot alligator sitting in the grass right next to the passenger side of the car. A woman who was fishing ran up to tell us to watch for the gator. Like a coward, I jumped immediately ten feet away, failing to muster up the gusto to go any closer. However, the gator was more interested in attempting to suntan his belly. I learned how to crab fish. First, get a hunk of chicken neck, tie a string around it, then add weights to the string, which you are supposed to bite to close, and sink your bait into the water. Then, you are supposed to check on your strings, I had three, and when it feels as though one is being pulled that means a crab is on it. You are supposed to slowly pull the string out of the water for the crab doesn't fall off, while lowering your net with your right hand into the water. Overall, I am a terrible crabber. I caught a few, but apparently I have a lot to learn. I was so bad that an eight-year-old boy offered to help. Between "Mini Macqyver" and myself, we caught around two dozen. However, I did catch one beauty---a big crab that was a ripe, rich blue. All the men on the dock applauded my good work.

While I took a hand at crabbing, my two companions were fishing for redfish. While one seemed to catch a fish everytime he cast, the other, well, was learning. I did get one surprise. While engrossed in my seatime work, the successful fisherman decided to place his freshly caught redfish's mouth on my exposed lower back. I nearly jumped into the water with the gators. I decided a kiss from a redfish must be some form of a Cajun blessing. Overall, our fishing trip was a success, with one ice chest full, an encounter with the game warden (who was a VERY good looking game warden) that ended with no tickets, and two gator sitings. I had a great time.

Back in the Red Stick

Lord Help. Since my last post, I have visited the local pirate bar called the Port Royal with my friend who is starting the South Louisiana Beard Club. It was a glorious place. Dimly lit, not too crowded, and attached to a Waffle House like I like all dives to be. Also, I ventured out to the wonderful world of Lafayette. Before coming to Louisiana, a person told me that Lafayette was the Mecca of the World. I reckon it is pretty dagum great. I went to the Blue Moon Saloon, which resembled someone's backyard patio if it was covered in different bands' posters and a road sign for Henderson Swamp. I watched two great bands the Pine Leaf Boys and Feufollet. I have been very excited to see both because the two groups consists of a bunch of young people, who are GREAT musicians, and have an obvious pride and respect for their culture. I watched different people, young and old do the two step all night long. During the shows, I sat next to an older lady that filled me in on the gossip of the  place, "Who was who," and "what they do." Also, I was luckily there for the opening of the Festival de Acadians (sorry if my French spelling is off.) I saw a man jump on stage and play the accordian who was generations older than the band playing, yet he still had the heat of the music pumping through him and sang with more heart than maybe anyone all night. This was the man honored that night and his face was the one that got to grace this year's poster for the festival.

This little silver fox I was sitting next to spoke in Cajun French to her buddies entering the bar all night. I ate that right up. It was hot as blazes in that place, being that it was packed, outside, with only one fan, and a super hot Louisiana night. Even though I felt like I was cookin', I was going no where. I listen to the bands sing songs about going to dances and meeting your future wife, about short dresses, and well many other sexual topics. It was one of the best shows I have been too. I just sat there in one of my silk dresses with my hair knotted up and my cowboy boots moving to the beat. I was there until the last fiddle was played and the last song sung. Can't wait to do that again!

Benefits of Cowboy Boots

If I had to choose my favorite thing to wear, it would be cowboy boots. I collect them. I currently have three pairs and I am constantly looking for more. Does not matter if I am sauntering through a thrift store to kill time. If I see a pair of boots, I beeline over there and try them on and if they remotely fit (within two sizes), I will buy them no matter if I had other intentions (like groceries) for that money. I think my obsession rests with the fact that they are fashion and utility combined. As a girl, I love wearing masculine things, especially with something very feminine, like ruffles. Here are some of my favorite reasons to wear cowboy boots:
1. They are eye-catchers.
2. Make a girl look tough.
3. People compliment you on the street.
4. Conversation starter. Like, "When we gonna go ride horses?"
5. Make me taller than almost everyone.
6. I can easily store my flask in them or I reckon wallet, keys, etc. (Flask most important.)

When people ask why I am obsessed with cowboy boots, I reply, "A girl can never have too many pairs of cowboy boots." One thing about living in Louisiana, the natives LOVE boots as much as I do!

Downfalls of boots:
1. When you fall, you fall pretty hard. Cowboy boots are slick.

Bayou Blues

Since my last blog I have started my job with a non profit here in Baton Rouge, have fallen for Abita beer, and seen three gators over six feet long. I have also been attacked by red ants (no worries, I am fine) and have eaten my weight in Cajun food. I was told by a Mississippian from Greenville that no one in the Deep South messes with Kentuckians. The reason why because there is an air of mystery around a Kentuckian---an air of mystery that he or she may be carrying a knife. Since my last post, I have spent three days at Lake Fosse Point State Park. It is a park in the Henderson Bayou that has monster gators and no cell phone reception. I tried to capture one of these gators on my phone, but my lack of skill only depicted a dot rather than a six foot long gator. I spent my days team building and doing service projects, but I spent my nights drinking Budweiser and learning the Cuban Shuffle. Also, met a young woman I will be working with in Baton Rouge that is a Cajun fiddle player whom I confessed my secret desire to learn Cajun fiddle.

On Saturday I will be going to Cajun Clarence's jam in Baton Rouge that begins at nine and ends, well I reckon when the playing stops. Later that day, I will be driving out to the Wild World of Lafayette (which either pronouncation is considered acceptable), that is deep Cajun country, to listen to two Cajun bands at the Blue Moon Saloon, which may  be my favorite place in Louisiana. The two bands are the Pine Leaf Boys (my favorite) and Feufollet (who I have not seen yet.) I plan on drinking some beer and doing the Cajun two-step til the sun rises. I cannot wait to hear a bunch of young people singing exclusively in Cajun French.