This little front porch was magical. The scent of magnolias drifted on the breeze and the twist and turns of the old oak made me feel right at home. Being invited to spend a long weekend in the hometown of Walter Anderson, the celebrated artist of Ocean Springs, well no one would say no to that. So three women and one husband planned a getaway each having their own agendas. Cousins #1 wanted to see the golden sunset over the white sand beaches, Cousin #2 wanted to take early morning drives to watch the gulf fisherman heading out to Biloxi Bay, Cousin #3, the true artist among us, wanted to take in the sights of Andersons water colors throughout the museum, and the laughing husband wanted to eat Southern style Catfish at Aunt Jennys. At the perfect end of each day we gathered on the porch and shared our memories, sipped a couple of coctails, and let our laughter fill the oaks. Au revoir till our next adventure.
Looking out from the 8th floor of the Tides the harbor scene seemed haunting. In my thoughts I could see a really good book jacket for a Patrica Cornwell mystery novel. /b>
As I drove down a side street in New Iberia I noticed how this home had seen better days. I then remembered a story told to me about a gifted silver tea set. It came to my mother from a woman whose family lived there. The woman’s family was raised in the Atchafalaya Basin and as often happened they move to town and lived a cultured life. I don’t remember my mother ever making Tea. She was more of a cocktail in a crystal glass type of woman. C’est la vie.
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