Hey y'all -
About six months ago, I was working double hours at my job. The money was better, but I was so stressed that I felt like my face was tingling all the time. Out of the blue, I got an e-mail from a friend that read, "I have a buy-one-get-one-free airline ticket on Alaska that I'm not going to use, but you have to be able to book your travel today." I was just stressed enough in that moment that the idea of planning an escape - even one that was half a year away - sounded like heaven. So I took her up on it and bought two plane tickets to New Orleans. Your dad and I had enough hotel reward points that we could each book two free hotel nights, and just like that, our vacation was planned and paid for.
And then I went back to work and mostly forgot about it.
Six months pass, and lo and behold there's a trip to New Orleans on our calendar.
Your dad and I never had a honeymoon; he was in the Masters program at UM when we got married. We said "I do" on a Saturday, and he was back in class on Monday. In fact, we had never been on a vacation together. This just seemed like the perfect combination of the honeymoon we never had, plus a celebration of our 6 year wedding anniversary, plus a great way to have fun on my 38th birthday.
True story: I once had this conversation with Peg Peg about New Orleans -
Peg Peg: I don't like New Orleans. There's nothing to do there but walk around and drink.
Me: You say that like it's a bad thing.
So Grandma Sue came home from Sweden, and the next day, we said, "Hate to drop the kids and run, but...bye."
Then we got on a plane and spent five fabulous days in The Big Easy.
We ate food that was ungodly good. We walked every street of the French Quarter. We took a tour of the oldest cemetery in the city. We went to the Hurricane Katrina exhibit, and I cried because I couldn't believe that as a country we couldn't do better. And we went to the WWII Museum, where I cried because I saw so many examples of America at its best. We ate our weight in deep-fried dough. We became masters of the public transportation system. We learned the location of every public restroom in a two mile radius. We enjoyed a beer with my cousin Reed and her new husband, Ned. And because we have been trained by five years of living in a house of little people, we went to bed before 11p every night, and got up by 7am. PAR-TAY.
If you asked me my favorite moment of the trip, it would be this:
On the night of my birthday, the Saints played a home game just a few blocks from the Quarter, so the place felt mostly deserted. I told your dad that what I really wanted to do was to take my camera and tripod for a walk, and maybe take some cool low-light pictures. Your dad carried my tripod for blocks and blocks, and even figured out how to shimmy its legs through the fence of Jackson Square so I could take a picture of St Louis Cathedral. He tipped the musicians I photographed and was an all-around A+ traveling companion.
On the last morning of our trip, we both woke up ready to go home. We passed playgrounds on our streetcar route, and sighed and both said how much we missed you guys.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime trip, but it was also great to get back to the people who make our lives worth living.
Love,
Mom
| 
No comments:
Post a Comment