Eight years and counting

Eight years to the day after Katrina, I still miss Bruning’s restaurant out at the Lakefront.

Eight years later, the ‘LSU Purple’ fig I planted in the storm’s aftermath STILL isn’t reliably producing fruit, mainly because its young roots were wrenched around by Gustav’s winds, then Isaac’s winds, and probably several other tropical systems whose names I no longer remember.

Eight years later, I can still smell, vividly, the odor of 450,000 stinking refrigerators blowing on the wind.  I still can’t eat Honey Baked Ham because I happened to be driving down Causeway Boulevard a few weeks after the storm, when people in HazMat suits worked to clean out the store’s walk-in coolers.

Eight years later, I’m happy that Saharan dust and westerly wind shear have thus far delivered us from threatening tropical weather.

10 thoughts on “Eight years and counting

  1. No loss on the Honey Baked Ham, in my opinion. Although several years ago I snagged the bone from one after an office holiday party, thinking I would make something good. I discovered that it did not make the world’s greatest red beans. Maybe I should have given it a bath first to get rid of the glaze. Bleah.

  2. I actually think those LSU figs aren’t that hardy. I bought my parents an LSU Gold in 2006 as a gift and while the tree did OK for a couple of years in their Old Jefferson yard, it never produced a lot of fruit (as compared to reliable brown turkey) and it actually died last year.

    • Glad to know it’s not my brown thumb, but perhaps the variety of fig. I will have a ‘Celeste’ fig in my new orchard. Sure hope it’s more productive than the ‘LSU Purple’.

  3. Lived in Florida for most of my life and worked in the corporate offices of a large grocery train. One of the worst smells I have ever smelled is a grocery store after a prolonged (days long) power outage, especially if flooding was involved. Not handling the rancid dairy and meat, just being in the store put a smell on you that wouldn’t wash off for days.

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