The Mud Between our Toes

 Ellie and I went to Louisiana this past weekend to, as my grandmother would say, "get the mud between our toes." We (or I) needed to refill our spirit, and there is no better way to feel you again than to surround yourself with people who know you better than you do (insert "mother" and "sister" here). There is something inside of me that relaxes, something in the very center of my very center that rejoices and unwraps itself when it is hugged and loved and known by people who love me despite myself.

There is something so wonderfully familiar and happy about the words "snoball," "beignet," and "hun." Susie, my niece, loves snoballs. Frozen sugar in a cup your mommy lets you dump all over yourself--how could you NOT love them?

 Ellie learned new words, too. "Mine," "no," and "hold you!!!!" (what Susie says when she wants you to hold her--"Want me to 'hold you?'"). Ellie learned that showing something to Susie also meant giving it to her. She learned that sponges tasted just as good wet with sprinkler water as they do wet with bubbles in a bath.

 She learned that two shovels are better than one--kind of.

We breathed in the powdered sugar of Cafe Du Monde, and I thought of my grandmother who would have loved being there with Susie and Ellie. Mamere would have been proud to share her New Orleans with them, and being there makes me miss her.

 And the beads. Oh, how the beads became a source of joy and sparkle and happiness and jealousy. :) The girls learned to share (again. . . kind of) and be happy (kind of) with the beads they had. Susie liked to call them her "ros-ries," and I think that made our Blessed Mother smile. Why can't Mardi Gras beads be rosaries? I think it's a great idea.

We read books Leigh and I enjoyed as kids, played "This Little Piggy" and "cooked" in the beach sand of Gulf Shores. Ellie is so much like her daddy--she didn't like how the sand made her hands messy! Makes playing in it difficult. I was thankful for the few days of relative relaxation we shared, and I cried when we left. I felt like we were abandoning a piece of ourselves there in the swamp, and though I celebrate the new adventures God gives me, I cherish and cling to the smells and tastes and sounds that raised me.