I was born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, but I spent 26 years growing up on Bayou Lafourche. South Louisiana is a place that I didn't appreciate until I left it. I always wanted to get out, to get away, to see bigger and brighter things. I didn't realize what a rich, old, and beautiful culture I was a part of until I didn't have those roots anymore. The truth is, I don't have roots at all outside of my little family. There are four of us: my hubby, our two boys, and me, plus our nanny. My husband and I both work for the U.S. Government abroad. Don is the officer, and I am trailing spouse (to those who remember the days of Julia Child and Rose Kennedy). I hope not to be the trailing spouse for long; in fact, I'm trying for a more permanent position at the moment.
I grew up on Bayou Lafourche in Louisiana, a town of just a few hundred people. Some people call it a "One-Horse Town"; I describe it as a "One-Stoplight Town." There's one stoplight of course. Everyone there knows everybody else. If they don't know you, they know your daddy. "Who's your Daddy" or "Who's your family" were the most-asked questions whenever meeting someone new. If they didn't know your mama or your daddy, they knew of him or her and then knew who to call when you got into trouble.
When I was growing up, we had two gas stations: Popingos and Gator Stop. The (Da) Gator Stop had the best fried chicken and hamburgers in the history of the world. It's so funny to think about because Mama could always tell when any of us went to the Gator Stop that day, because you came home smelling like it: deep fried. I wasn't there anymore, but we lost the Gator Stop in Hurricane Gustav. I want to cry every time I go home and pass where it used to be. I guess I'll never smell "deep fried" again.
I grew up on Bayou Lafourche in Louisiana, a town of just a few hundred people. Some people call it a "One-Horse Town"; I describe it as a "One-Stoplight Town." There's one stoplight of course. Everyone there knows everybody else. If they don't know you, they know your daddy. "Who's your Daddy" or "Who's your family" were the most-asked questions whenever meeting someone new. If they didn't know your mama or your daddy, they knew of him or her and then knew who to call when you got into trouble.
When I was growing up, we had two gas stations: Popingos and Gator Stop. The (Da) Gator Stop had the best fried chicken and hamburgers in the history of the world. It's so funny to think about because Mama could always tell when any of us went to the Gator Stop that day, because you came home smelling like it: deep fried. I wasn't there anymore, but we lost the Gator Stop in Hurricane Gustav. I want to cry every time I go home and pass where it used to be. I guess I'll never smell "deep fried" again.
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