Every Saturday morning, the yard between the courthouse and police station fills with vendors. These folks offer fresh food, prepared foods, plants, and even seafood. In the middle stands a gazebo where local musicians play a fiddle, guitar or the like as shoppers browse and sample the wares.
I go almost every week. The diversity of the products as well as the people surprise me. The shrimp come from an old gentleman who is a native of Vietnam. His English is poor, but the Gulf shrimp are big and fresh off the boat. The Italian cookies and artichoke pies are made and sold by Brazilian immigrants of Italian descent. The fresh beef is raised on a farm owned by an American and oddly, his Costa Rican wife.
Did I mention the pralines? The coconut pralines were the best I have ever eaten even if the price was outrageous: $3 per small praline. By the way, she was the only African-American vendor at the market. In this part of the world, diversity is good, as long as we keep a respectable quota on the darker members of the community.
Join us for Sundays in My City, even if my offering is a Saturday affair, at Unknown Mami’s blog.
The Dog has been a big part of my life since I moved back to the US from Honduras nearly a year ago. He’s longer needed as a guard dog, but I have tried to give him a somewhat meaningful life as a companion animal. Since the US is more calm in many respects than Honduras, we actually take long walks in our parish (county in other parts of the nation).
He has a calmer persona than the machissimo attitude he portrayed in Latin America. If he were running for office, I think his new attitude would go further in the polls long-term than the loud stuff he used as his signature style in the past. Another thing to note, I don’t think he would approve of laws in the South that prohibit hunting with dogs for most of the season. He takes it personally when he can’t pursue to the end a deer, squirrel, or gator run or even the occasional lunge at the annoying gringa in the neighborhood.
The post is linked to Sundays In My City, which is sponsored by Unknown Mami.
I have been enjoying life in the United States since returning in 2014. Perhaps the pace of life has caused me to forego writing and posting pictures as was my regular habit while living in Honduras. Of course, maybe I just enjoy exploring in my red car in Louisiana since giving up my work and pick-up in Honduras.
Whatever the cause, I proffer a few glimpses of life around and about my small town. Some of these are photographs from Covington, Louisiana. My apologies. Abita Springs is a Very Small Town.
My apologies to the famed local artist, George Rodrigue and his muse Blue Dog, who inspired this insipid post. Rest in peace, Mr. Rodrigue. Your work deserves better, but I don’t have a blue dog, just a small red car.
This post is linked to Sundays in My City, which is sponsored by the inimitable Unknown Mami.
When the days are cold and dreary, there’s nothing like a cup of tea. In downtown Covington, there’s a lovely spot for tea, where all things tea are served with a flair. Of course, I must admit that I enjoy it more because my sister is the owner.