I had a great trip to New Orleans last weekend, but I landed back in smoky, dry Atlanta in a dead run, slammed at work with baseball games both Tuesday and Wednesday nights. This being my twentieth and last spring involved with youth baseball, I'm philosophical, savoring every moment and the Wednesday night game was delicious. We scored eight runs in the bottom of the last inning to lose by one, but no matter, we "won" that game. We went home pumped, elated, feeling victorious, while our opponents went home uncomfortably relieved, having spent the last thirty minutes of play in a silent fearful panic while we spent it noisily gaining on them. We're still at the front of the pack. I have no problem with losing a couple of games prior to the playoffs, if only so they get it out of their systems. We're 8-4 and still in 2nd place in our eleven team league. Of all my different roles during these last twenty years, I think this is the most fun, coaching the big boys, the ones who drive themselves to the game, who are there for one reason only: because they want to be. Wednesday night they were hanging on the fence, these cool young men almost grown, cheering for their teammates, scrapping, fighting late into the dry, dusty night. I was proud and deeply moved, and I'm certain that I am absolutely the luckiest woman in the whole wide world to have spent so much time on the baseball diamond in the presence of so many amazing young men. It's been a privilege.
As for my venture south for the holiday, it was great, although I never did manage to get together with any bloggers, at least not intentionally. I did happen to run smack into Jeffrey, working on a bicycle, as I whipped around a corner to check out a garage sale, looking for goodies for Middle Son's new apartment. That was cool. I talked to Loki, Adrastos, Slate and Traveling Mermaid, some of them more than a few times, but I stayed on the move pretty fast and they had stuff going on, so I'll just have to go back, I s'pose.
We arrived in Destrehan in the wee hours of Friday morning, as that was where I was delivering my friend, the Lady Love, who was visiting my old buddy, David. After sleeping late and hanging around out there for the day, given that Middle Son also slept late after having Thursday night off and had to work Friday, we had a quiet dinner in, watched Little Miss Sunshine and went to bed early. Saturday I headed into town, lunching late at Dom's with Middle Son, David and his Lady Love. After Middle Son headed to work, I met the LoveBirds in the French Quarter (have I mentioned that old people love is kind of icky?). Still, it was loads of wandering fun (I bought a skirt from a French Market vendor - what in the world am I to do with a skirt???) but we forgot to eat, so I found myself starving, back at my Uptown hotel. I wandered into the Superior Grill but they'd just stopped serving, so I wandered down a bit farther to The Delachaise, of which I'd read so much in this and that blog, and it did not disappoint. Oh, my! Sipping one more Abita, people watching from the back of the bar while I waited (an admirable activity all by itself), I was graciously presented by Chef Chris DeBarr with nicely boxed Beefy Bruschetta, an excellent snack of tender slices of steak on toast, drizzled with a yummy medley of wonderful sauces; and the Chocolate Soufflé, all packed up in foil and still warm when I got to it, one of the most perfect foods I've ever eaten, precisely baked and smothered with heaven in a chocolate sauce. I didn't lick the foil but only because I was able to scrape every fraction of a morsel up with the spoon. Alone, the Chocolate Soufflé at The Delachaise is a reason to go to New Orleans.
It's been another nutzoid week at the KnockingShitDownCo. I guess I should be happy that we're this busy (you know, job security and all that jazz). We had Thursday off from baseball but have to play the 1st place team (essentially the Chamblee High School Varsity, minus the '07 seniors) on Friday evening so, between work and baseball, I've barely had a minute to breathe. We have a throw-away (doesn't count towards playoff seedings) game on Sunday before starting the modified double elimination tournament. Chamblee's a better team than we are, but it's baseball, so, on any given day, and, in this league, nothing really matters besides that last game. I came out of the losers' bracket to beat Chamblee in the finals last year for the championship. It's the most fun I've ever had with.... well, never mind. Let's just say that it's the most fun I've had recently enough to remember clearly. *sigh*
I'm still waaay behind in my blog reading but Saturday is a day without travel or baseball (as far as I know) so I'm going to try to get caught up. I did a little catching up last night after a birthday dinner out with a friend and I highly recommend Loyola Law Professor Bill Quigley's article at Dissident Voice entitled Less Meeting More Fighting (actually, I highly recommend Bill Quigley, a gifted attorney/writer/activist who personifies walking the walk). I found it by way of Ashe Dambala at American Zombie who has a series of moving posts up, culminating in the eloquent Outside...It's America. Go. Now. Read.
So, my dear blog friends, I hope you're well and prospering. I will try to catch up on the wonderful things you write tomorrow if my life and all it's busy-ness will allow it. In the meantime, I wish you love and happiness and especially, peace. Out. Y'all.
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