GIRL GATHERING
October 4, 2005
Something wonderful and touching happened last night, while Jeremy was gone to LaPlace to drop off T. and D. Last night I had a healthy chat session with the women members of our host family. It brought back memories of many similar nights in New Orleans, or even more so- memories of a time long ago with my own family in Southern California, those evenings when all the aunts, my grandmother and my mom (with a much younger me listening in) would sit around the kitchen table at my Grandmother's house talking about the opposite sex, giving unheeded advice, comparing accessories, doing nails, gossiping about the state of the world of women.
This time around, I was home with the family, no Jeremy to be a buffer between myself and the outside world. After a dinner of fried chicken,tater tots and cole slaw (very southern, very tasty and very very bad for my health), all the "girls" gathered at Ms. M's mom's house, which just so happens to be across a neatly-manicured lawn on the other side of the property. Our host family lives on an old-fashioned homestead. They use to be dairy farmers, but as the dairy business in Acadiana died off and farmers retired, the pasture lands were leased to agribusinessmen for sugarcane production. There are five homes (three houses and two mobiles) on the property, which butts up agains 47 acres of green- a sea of swaying sugarcane waiting to be harvested.
It was a beautiful night as Ms. M, her daughter of 13 and me walked over to "Nanny's" house. An unidentified planet shone bright and low in the sky, the grass was warm and dry and, miracle of all miracledidn't didn't receive a smosquitogquito bite on the two minute walk to the house. When we got there, she made coffee and everyone dived into the topic of the day- the Hurricanes and the situation of the million plus evacuees. I have become increasingly surprised at Mrs. M's liberal point of view, especially coming from a country woman in a part of America that is known for it's conservativism. Mrs. M cusses out the President more than I do.
"Damn that Bush," she said, viewing another article outlining the President's recent visit to the region. "I'm surprised to see him taking time from his vacation to view what the hell is going on down here."
Then she went on to read out loud a lengthy article about the housing shortage in the area (which is extensive to say the least), what FEMA is going to do about it (more rental checks for apartments that don't exist, more promises of trailers and trailer evacuees house evacuess- oh joy- more bs about how the Red Cross is the champion of the day). We sat listening and shaking our heads- Grandma, the daughter and I- until there was a rattle at the door. It was Mrs. M's sister-in-law, R.. She came in carrying a shimmering, sequenced dress in one arm and a load of shirts and ties in another. R. has a habit of beginning a conversation in the middle of it, as if it is assumed one has already heard the first part of whatever she is talking about, even if the discussion up to that point point had all been in her head.
"I don't know. Do ya'all all hear me? I give up. I just can't decide." With that she threw the load of clothes on top of the newspaper that was sprawled over the dining room table. I quickly moved my coffee to avoid a spill.
She continued, "I told that son of mine that I would pick up his date's prom dress for him- and I did. Then I said that I would get the shirt and the tie, which I did. How was I to know that there was going to be a two for one sale? Now I have a brown shirt and a grey shirt, and three ties to choose from and his homecoming dance is this Friday. Why the hell does he always wait until the last minute? And with me ready to pop and all. Did you know that the night of this here dance is the night before my due date? And he asked me if I would drive them. Now what if I go into labor in the parking lot of Ceaumo High School? That would just be somethin.' I give up, do you hear me? I give up."
R. also has a habit of repeating key phrases over and over when she speaks. I think that she knows that her voice is louder than the engine on a tractor-mower and she takes great pride in using it, even if it is in redundance.
"Well, lets take a look at 'em then," Mrs. M said while her mother said nothing, just pushed up her glasses with her index finger, the beginnings of a wry smile forming at the corners of her mouth. The daughter peered across the table in great interest, images of her own prom swimming before her eyes.
The dress was a size 6 or so, slim and maroon, with brass-colored sequence in a star-blast pattern down the front. The neck came up high and was bunched with a gold chocker, leaving the shoulders and back exposed. Next to the dress, R. layed out the two shirts with corresponding ties- brown with a brown, grey and black checkered tie, grey with a diamond-shaped maroon, black and silver tie. She put her hands on her hips in another fit of exasperation.
"I like the brown. I really do," Mrs. M said.
"I don't know, boo," Mrs. M senior said, "That grey might look nice. And the maroon matches the dress."
"But mom, it's gonna be nighttime," Mrs. M said. "They're not even going to be able to see the tie."
"When I go to my eight grade dance this year, I'm just gonna wear my little black dress I wore when we went on that cruise," Mrs. M's daughter said. "Remember mom, that one with the cross-straps on the back? IÂm going to that dance even if I donÂt have a crummy date."
Mrs. M chocked on a sip of her coffee. "Date?" The word came out more as a squeak than a statement. "Who said anything about a date? I thought you were going to go with your friends?"
"I am, mom. Nobody's gonna want to ask me out, anyhow. So it doesn't much matter."
"Now that is not true, sugar," said R. "I bet there will be a million of them askin you. It's always the ones that are shy around you really have to watch out for."
"Sister in law, will you please shut your mouth!" Normally mild-mannered Mrs. M was in a panic. "Nobody has said nothing about my daughter dating as of yet, and I am not ready to start now. I intent to keep it that way until she is at least out of college!"
"It's all right, my baby." Grandma said to her grand daughter, we had a pained look on her face. "You go out and have a good time. But just remember- don't be easy, okay? Boys don't stay too lone with girls who are easy."
October 4, 2005
Something wonderful and touching happened last night, while Jeremy was gone to LaPlace to drop off T. and D. Last night I had a healthy chat session with the women members of our host family. It brought back memories of many similar nights in New Orleans, or even more so- memories of a time long ago with my own family in Southern California, those evenings when all the aunts, my grandmother and my mom (with a much younger me listening in) would sit around the kitchen table at my Grandmother's house talking about the opposite sex, giving unheeded advice, comparing accessories, doing nails, gossiping about the state of the world of women.
This time around, I was home with the family, no Jeremy to be a buffer between myself and the outside world. After a dinner of fried chicken,tater tots and cole slaw (very southern, very tasty and very very bad for my health), all the "girls" gathered at Ms. M's mom's house, which just so happens to be across a neatly-manicured lawn on the other side of the property. Our host family lives on an old-fashioned homestead. They use to be dairy farmers, but as the dairy business in Acadiana died off and farmers retired, the pasture lands were leased to agribusinessmen for sugarcane production. There are five homes (three houses and two mobiles) on the property, which butts up agains 47 acres of green- a sea of swaying sugarcane waiting to be harvested.
It was a beautiful night as Ms. M, her daughter of 13 and me walked over to "Nanny's" house. An unidentified planet shone bright and low in the sky, the grass was warm and dry and, miracle of all miracledidn't didn't receive a smosquitogquito bite on the two minute walk to the house. When we got there, she made coffee and everyone dived into the topic of the day- the Hurricanes and the situation of the million plus evacuees. I have become increasingly surprised at Mrs. M's liberal point of view, especially coming from a country woman in a part of America that is known for it's conservativism. Mrs. M cusses out the President more than I do.
"Damn that Bush," she said, viewing another article outlining the President's recent visit to the region. "I'm surprised to see him taking time from his vacation to view what the hell is going on down here."
Then she went on to read out loud a lengthy article about the housing shortage in the area (which is extensive to say the least), what FEMA is going to do about it (more rental checks for apartments that don't exist, more promises of trailers and trailer evacuees house evacuess- oh joy- more bs about how the Red Cross is the champion of the day). We sat listening and shaking our heads- Grandma, the daughter and I- until there was a rattle at the door. It was Mrs. M's sister-in-law, R.. She came in carrying a shimmering, sequenced dress in one arm and a load of shirts and ties in another. R. has a habit of beginning a conversation in the middle of it, as if it is assumed one has already heard the first part of whatever she is talking about, even if the discussion up to that point point had all been in her head.
"I don't know. Do ya'all all hear me? I give up. I just can't decide." With that she threw the load of clothes on top of the newspaper that was sprawled over the dining room table. I quickly moved my coffee to avoid a spill.
She continued, "I told that son of mine that I would pick up his date's prom dress for him- and I did. Then I said that I would get the shirt and the tie, which I did. How was I to know that there was going to be a two for one sale? Now I have a brown shirt and a grey shirt, and three ties to choose from and his homecoming dance is this Friday. Why the hell does he always wait until the last minute? And with me ready to pop and all. Did you know that the night of this here dance is the night before my due date? And he asked me if I would drive them. Now what if I go into labor in the parking lot of Ceaumo High School? That would just be somethin.' I give up, do you hear me? I give up."
R. also has a habit of repeating key phrases over and over when she speaks. I think that she knows that her voice is louder than the engine on a tractor-mower and she takes great pride in using it, even if it is in redundance.
"Well, lets take a look at 'em then," Mrs. M said while her mother said nothing, just pushed up her glasses with her index finger, the beginnings of a wry smile forming at the corners of her mouth. The daughter peered across the table in great interest, images of her own prom swimming before her eyes.
The dress was a size 6 or so, slim and maroon, with brass-colored sequence in a star-blast pattern down the front. The neck came up high and was bunched with a gold chocker, leaving the shoulders and back exposed. Next to the dress, R. layed out the two shirts with corresponding ties- brown with a brown, grey and black checkered tie, grey with a diamond-shaped maroon, black and silver tie. She put her hands on her hips in another fit of exasperation.
"I like the brown. I really do," Mrs. M said.
"I don't know, boo," Mrs. M senior said, "That grey might look nice. And the maroon matches the dress."
"But mom, it's gonna be nighttime," Mrs. M said. "They're not even going to be able to see the tie."
"When I go to my eight grade dance this year, I'm just gonna wear my little black dress I wore when we went on that cruise," Mrs. M's daughter said. "Remember mom, that one with the cross-straps on the back? IÂm going to that dance even if I donÂt have a crummy date."
Mrs. M chocked on a sip of her coffee. "Date?" The word came out more as a squeak than a statement. "Who said anything about a date? I thought you were going to go with your friends?"
"I am, mom. Nobody's gonna want to ask me out, anyhow. So it doesn't much matter."
"Now that is not true, sugar," said R. "I bet there will be a million of them askin you. It's always the ones that are shy around you really have to watch out for."
"Sister in law, will you please shut your mouth!" Normally mild-mannered Mrs. M was in a panic. "Nobody has said nothing about my daughter dating as of yet, and I am not ready to start now. I intent to keep it that way until she is at least out of college!"
"It's all right, my baby." Grandma said to her grand daughter, we had a pained look on her face. "You go out and have a good time. But just remember- don't be easy, okay? Boys don't stay too lone with girls who are easy."
posted by Nikki Lyn Pugh | 7:42 PM
2 Comments:
Oh Lyn-Li,
You live such an exciting life. Thanks for sharing it, so I can live vicariously through you. Talk about a woman who knows how to follow her dreams... I remember those wet, Big-Island days when you spoke of travelling to Europe. Now look at ya!!! You're amazing & I wish you the best in all your endeavors.
Laural
Wow Laural...I don't know how long ago you wrote this comment, but thank you! What are you and your amazing voice doing these days? Big hugs!
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