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Day 3: My Town

The king cake we picked up on the way home from LA was a great disappointment, but I’m still getting into the Mardi Gras spirit. Wreath on the door, I started putting together my playlist for the season. My husband starts playing Christmas music as soon as Halloween has passed. For me, it’s “Big Chief” and dreams of the Big Easy.

To be clear: New Orleans is not my (home)town. I’m from New Iberia, and I’m sure I’ll write about it from time to time. New Orleans is this iridescent ribbon woven through my life’s tapestry, a town that I know and will never really know. It feels cheesy to invoke the music of Mardi Gras as indicative of my connection to this town, but I feel it in my hips and my heart. If I could live anywhere…

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