The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

One of the most precious and valuable benefits of travel is that it takes you out of your comfort zone, and if you’re open to the experience, it provides perspective. Travel teaches us about other cultures, but it also gives us the opportunity to learn about ourselves.

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

It is hard to forget the devastation of Hurricane Katrina when thinking of New Orleans. The city and the people are still recovering from that natural and man-made disaster. But they are recovering, and New Orleans showed my friends and me a grand time while we were there last month.

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

But as we strolled outside the welcoming, touristy areas of the French Quarter, I was reminded that there is a hard-earned need to be a bit self-protective here.

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

It also made me think about how guarded I can be in my own life, sometimes sharing information in one area to draw attention away from another.

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

 

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

The streets were lonely, but for my friend and I. No signs of life. No movement aside from the occasional breeze. The picture below was different just because there was another person on the street. The quiet was eerie. There was no question we had wandered outside of the tourist area.

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

This sidewalk seating area looked like a page from a catalog to me. Different in that there were signs of life with the chairs and tree, and yet, I wonder how often anyone actually sits there.

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

The shutters faced outward, to the world, to the environment, but we learned that most of these homes surrounded courtyards that were the gathering places of friends and family.

The Guarded Beauty of New Orleans

Just a glimpse here and there, and we could see that once past that tough shell, the interior was a friendly and welcoming place to those invited.

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The Day My Husband Threw Up and Saved Our Relationship

The Day My Husband Threw Up and Saved Our Relationship

I’ve been procrastinating on writing a blog post for a very long time now.  It’s Christmas. It’s the end of the year.  It’s the beginning of the new year.  So much pressure to write a deep, meaningful, soul searching, profound piece that sums up the meaning of life, and what I’ve learned this year.  Or at least pull together a humorous and/or touching year in review post.

This year I learned I have cancer.  I endured two surgeries, 6 months of chemo, and I’m currently on radiation.  I survived.  My family survived.  I haven’t completely messed up my daughter. yet.

This year was too deep, and too long, for me to sum up in one pretty, little post.  Maybe one of these days, when I’ve put some distance between me and what I endured, I’ll be able to write something meaningful about this year, and my experience.  For now, I don’t want to think.  I don’t want to plumb the depths of my soul.  I don’t want to share what’s in my heart.  I haven’t processed it yet.  That will take some time.

Besides all that, I’ve been sick.  I don’t mean cancer sick;  I mean coughing, sneezing, mucus like rubber cement, don’t you dare turn on the lights, throbbing sinuses, and it feels like a mile-long hike just getting to the bathroom sick.  I’m feeling much better, and starting to dig my way out of the haze now, but this has been lingering since before Christmas.  To all of you waiting on a return email, or phone call, I’m sorry.  I’ll get back to you soon.  If you’re waiting on a Christmas card…  ha ha ha.  giggle. snort. Yeah, right, it’s been years since I was organized enough to send those out – even when I was healthy.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m happy.  I’m afraid the first few paragraphs of this post may have led you to believe I’m bitter and pouting about this year.  Not so much.  I just don’t understand how I feel about it all yet.  I need more time to sort it out.

Early last month, I started the Reverb10 project with such enthusiasm, but found myself avoiding my computer for the month of December, because I knew each new reverb prompt would lead to more thinking.  Shudder.  I still plan on continuing the Reverb10 project, but on my own timeline.  It may take me the remainder of 2011 to finish, and I may not make public all my responses, but I think it’s a wonderful way of reviewing where I’ve been, and making plans for the future.

You still want to know about the day my husband threw up and saved our relationship? Gross. Ok, just kidding, that would have piqued my interest as well.  Earlier today, my husband reminded me of this moment in the history of our relationship.  That memory is what brought me back to my computer to write, and thus, the reason the title of this post is dedicated to that moment.

Long before we got married, and about 6 months after we met, I decided that falling in love with Aaron would be terribly inconvenient.  I wasn’t ready to be in love (this after years of “looking for love in all the wrong places”). I went around the house and gathered up the items of his that had accumulated (CDs, a hat, a shirt…  ) and placed them next to the door, ready to send them and him on their way when he arrived at my place after work.

When he showed up, he brushed past me, rushed to the bathroom, and spent what felt like forever in there puking.  Monstrous, earth shattering, roaring, I’ve never heard anyone puke like that. By the time he was done, cleaned up, and passed out in my bed, I had given up on thoughts of breaking off the relationship. I grabbed his possessions by the door and redistributed them back around the house.  It was too late.  I was already in love.

Instead of fighting what is, I needed to accept it (good or bad), and then decide how I was going to respond to it.

I got a little deep there, didn’t I?

oops.

My Family - CoffeeJitters.Net

You can learn more about my cancer story here:

my cancer story | Judy Schwartz Haley

 

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