ATTITUDE AND GRADITUDE

 I love a good podcast especially if it is an interview.

It makes sense that I was drawn to an interview of an 105 year old woman.

The interviewer finds her in an airport looking not a day over 85.

She is beautiful in the only way an older mature woman can be.

It is obvious that she has become one with the

person she sees in the mirror.

He speaks to her about medical issues.

She has some, she admits but she explains how 

she becomes friends with her pain, her illnesses 

saying once she does this it just doesn't bother her anymore.

He then asks her the secret to living a long life,

is it exercise, eating healthy, etc.?

she boldly states:

"ATTITUDE AND GRATITUDE, ATTITUDE AND GRATITUDE.

She says it a few times getting her point across.

Awwwwe yeah!

I want to do that...

I want to have an open mind in all situations,

trying to find the good in all.

I want to have a positive attitude even when

I am tired or aggravated.

I want to be a good listener, even when an opinion may be opposite mine.

I want to have gratitude not just for the big things in life

but also for the little things,

the small gestures people afford me.

I want to be the person who gives grace to a situation

even when I am not feeling very graceful.

Allow my elders to go before me at checkout lines,

smile, be kind even when someone is being ugly.

My favorite advice to couples getting married:

"When you are wrong, admit it, when you are right, shut up"

I want to strive to follow my own words of advice.

A few weeks ago I made a mistake, it was not on purpose

and was done out of grief.

When I was approached about it, I felt terrible.

Although It was not done on purpose

 I knew then, it was wrong.

I remembered a step from the Alanon book:

MAKE AMENDS WHENEVER POSSIBLE EXCEPT

WHEN TO DO SO WOULD INJURE THEM OR OTHERS.

I apologized and did what I felt I had to do to correct the wrong.

I then had to give myself grace.

Even at the age of 61, I make mistakes, we all will

but  I can follow this wise old woman's advice

ATTITUDE AND GRATITUDE

and strive to the best little old lady I can grow up to be.

I WILL ROCK YOU....

I knew it would happen, even with all the promises she made...

I knew that the day would come when Jilly would become a 

teenager and have so many plans that I would not be a priority.

Still, I was not prepared fully for it.

When she calls and has a free night and wants to come sleep, it is happening.

I miss the little girl who called to come sleep all the time

when family outweighed friends and practices, etc.

"Mumsie, how long will you rock me?"

Her little two year old self asked years ago.

"I will rock you as long as you let me,

I will rock you until your feet drag the ground,

I will rock you on the day you get married,

and I will rock you when my old body becomes timid

and your much stronger"

Because now, she has a life surrounded by people and friends,

she does not come sleep as often as she once did.

Rarely do we read in bed together and rarely

do we play 'foosh' (pillow fight). 

However, this morning as she awakened early to go to practice

she hopped in my lap and I rocked her.

Her body has grown to that of a teenager almost as tall as me

yet she still fits in my lap.

Its a great way to start a Saturday....

I will rock you, Jilly Bean for as long as I can.

50 YEARS OF SNL

 SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE

has been with us for fifty years!

I wonder if Lorn Michaels knew back then what a gem he had.

We can all probably remember a skit or twenty that we loved.

We can also argue about which was the best cast.

For me, SNL has followed me throughout periods of my life.

My first glimpse of it was as a very young girl,

staying up way past my bedtime as my older

sister prepared for their Saturday night ritual.

Usually it consisted of Chef Boyardi Pizza from a box.

My Daddy hated pizza and the smell of it 

so I didn't even know it existed until my teen sister

started making it on Saturday nights long after my Daddy was in bed.

SNL would come on and there was always a lot of laughing

and imitating. I didn't get the jokes back then but I am sure I laughed anyway.

Once I became a teenager, it became a part of my own Saturday night lineup.

We had Bill Murray, John Belushi, Gilda Radner...

some of them I didn't even know by these names but by their character names.

Hence, why my poor sister Roseanna started calling herself Rosie.

She was tired of everyone calling her Roseanna, Roseanna Danna.

When I did go out with friends on a Saturday night, 

it was usually not until I first saw who the musical guest would be.

Then I had my children.... 

and they began to watch SNL with me.

We had all their Nickelodeon shows...

ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK, Clarrisa, etc.

We watched them all but we also knew that

when 10:30 came around, it was going to be

buttered crackers and Saturday Night Live.

My children grew up with their own cast, that soon became mine:

Will Ferrel, Chris Farley, Adam Sandler... so many great ones.

"A van down by the river" was said a lot back then.

I remember when Chris Farley died not only I but my children were sad.

They were now old enough to understand the lifestyle of a comedian

was not always filled with laughter.

Laying with my kiddo's on the sofa many Saturday nights

still remain some of my favorite memories.

Like all children, they grew up but often there would

be a memory shared or reenacted  from the skits they grew up watching.

Now it is the grandgirls turn. While they may not sit and watch

all of SNL, they watch clips of the new and old.

When JoJo came to the Cottage one day singing

Adam Sandlers, Lunch lady song I knew her Dad was showing them clips.

When I began to tell her about Sandler's Hanukkah song,

she must have watched the clip ten times to learn it and

surprise her Daddy that she knew it.

I no longer sit beside a television on Saturday nights

waiting for 10:30 to come around.

You can bet though, that I will have clips on my phone of this show,

new and old. 

Whenever I smell Chef Boyardi Pizza 

or hear one of the girls say

"In a Van down by the River" 

I am brought back to a place I love.... in my heart.

Happy Birthday, SNL

The Mom I never knew...

 

(Mom with my oldest siblings, Larry and Simone)

Who is this woman who I called Momma?

Who was she as this young Mother to my older siblings?

I was born to her when she was 43 years old, 

certainly not the same woman she was in these photos.

By my birth, she already had children in their 20's.

As a child, I never thought of her as a young Mother to her first babies.

Now I wonder, who was this beautiful woman looking into the camera?

I can now only go by stories told to me by others.

This photo has always been one of my favorites.

It was taken after my Momma lost her full term still born baby, Rebecca.

My brother Peter was only a few years old and 

had been planning for his baby sister who would be coming soon.

when she was found to be stillborn, my parents

wanted to make sure he understood what happened to her

so they layed her body  out in our family home.

I see this young Momma, recuperating from a delivery 

of a child she would not raise.

My brother is so happy to be with his Momma

but she seems so sad.

Her Bibles also laying beside her.

I did not know this woman in the photo, 

I did not ask her the questions I would love to ask now?

What was that pain like having to bury children?

Then there is this one, Momma lying in Grand Isle,

perhaps sleeping while her photographer husband snaps a photo,

The momma I was raised with never played on a beach 

like this with so much confidence.

By the time I was born, Momma and Dad didn't show much affection.

Yet the old photos tell a story of a different time.

A man who loved his wife and believed she was so beautiful 

that he snapped many photos of her.

I love that idea!

Although, in my lifetime they were not very affectionate

there were things my Dad did for her that always

made me feel warm inside, so happy.

Every morning, Every morning....

My Daddy served my Momma coffee in bed.

She worked the evening shift at Randolph's restaurant 

and he let her sleep in and always enjoy her cup of coffee in bed.

Sometimes she would get up and join him 

but most often she layed in her bed and read while she

enjoyed her cup of brew.

Daddy always got us ready for school and it was 

rare that she was out of bed before the bus passed 

unless she was working the AM shift.

Today, being Valentine's Day I also 

have memories of Dad always buying her a heart shaped

box filled with chocolates.

He didn't buy for us kids, only for the one he loved, 

his wife, my Momma.

I believe that a deceased person lives on 

as long as someone is speaking of them.

Have the conversations, tell the stories, write them down

and share with others.

I wish I had more of those conversations with my Momma

but she will live on for generations to come

because I have shared her here.

Cheers to growing up!

Two weeks ago I found myself eating at Nobile's in Lutcher.

I sell art there at Ferry Landing Two

(visit if you can so much talent there!)

I love people watching and as much as I  love to "vey yay"

(sit around and talk)

I love company but I also love my own company.

Nobile's was packed and I almost changed my mind.

It had been a hard few weeks so I decided to just take my time,

sit and enjoy the atmosphere.

I was seated at a little table right across from this little group of ladies.

It would have been just like me to go up to them

and strike up a conversation but on this day I decided to just observe.

To say this encounter had me looking forward to growing up would be right.

There sat these 5 ladies all dressed up, hair fixed, make up and jewelry applied.

I could not hear most of their conversations but they laughed... a lot.

I found myself being drawn to their laughter

wondering what wonderful stories they might be sharing.

Did they grow up together? Were they friends as new Mothers?

were they cousins?... so many questions.

A few people stopped to talk to them and one in particular

had them flirting in a way that only older women can get away with.

The waitress came to ask them if they were done, 

probably because the place was packed and they needed that big table.

NO, indeed they were not done.

"We waiting for our coffee to have our dessert"

Oh my!

No where to be and not in a hurry to get there.

Either the waitress was new or she had not served the golden girls before.

As I finished up my meal, taking my own dessert home,

they took out their calendars, some were paper, some were phones.

These sweet little ladies were planning their next months gathering.

From this I knew this was not a one time thing but 

something they did every month.

I want to grow up to be just like that.

All the time in the world to sit around with all those I love

and make the Vey yay, with no time to get anywhere.

I can picture the days when my besties are retired and

we can also plan monthly outings.

Yes growing old is not for the weak hearted

but watching these sweet ladies has me

looking forward to growing up.

 

Golden Meadow Mardi G

This foggy morning, let me talk 

GOLDEN MEADOW MARDI GRAS!

Oh how my Daddy loved Mardi Gras season as

the parades passed right in front of our house

so everyone would come out.

He would make his famous chili in the biggest pot we had

and all the cousins, aunts, uncles came to GM for Mardi Gras.

Momma used to say that so many came that 

she though most of them we didn't know.

The door was always opened at

113 Dursette Lane and everyone was invited.

The bathroom and the kitchen was opened to everyone.

As we became teenagers, all our friends knew

they were welcomed and the fun was after the 

parade sitting in the front of the lane and

watching all the people passing on Highway 1.

I remember when I was very little, watching

the older kids follow the parade on foot and on bikes.

I imagined the day I would be old enough to also follow the floats.

When I finally was old enough, I was not interested...

such is life.

I am not a big Mardi Gras fan anymore.

After Dad died, and the home parties stopped

it has just never been the same again.

When my kiddo's were young, i brought them to as many as they wanted.

Sometimes we traveled on vacation during Mardi Gras season.

One of my favorite memories of a trip to Disney

with Roddie and Jes was when we went to a Disney parade.

A gentleman next to us started a conversation with Roddie

about being from Louisiana, the home of Mardi Gras.

He asked Roddie,

"What is the difference between Louisiana Mardi Gras and Disney"

He politely answered:

"Over here they keep their clothes on"

Awe the mouths of babes.....

Enjoy Mardi Gras 2025.

 

STORIES ARE MEANT TO BE TOLD

If I could somehow tell my younger self something

and change the path of my 61 years of existence,

it would be

"Ask more questions, write down the answers and share with others"

Yesterday and my sister, Veronica and I sat down with stacks

of old photos we began to try and figure out a few things.

She is 16 years older than me so her memories of our life

and my memories are hardly the same.

Jesi was also here sharing photos and we began to ask

the questions:

"When did Dad go to photography school in Chicago?"

"Was it before he married Mom, before serving in WWII?"

We didn't know... we had not asked the questions and if these

things were known, we were not aware of it.

We continued to go through photos....

and my Daddy's own photos told the story we were trying to write.

This is what we found.

There was a very old photo with the writing behind it:

Chicago 1938.

He would have been 20 as he was born in 1918.

We know the photography school was 18 months and that 

photo had to have been taken right before he left Chicago

and came back home to Golden Meadow.

We also know Momma and Daddy eloped and Mom

was in 11th grade and quit school to marry Daddy.

When he returned he would have almost been 20 

which would mean Mom was between 17 and 18.

Our biggest question was, did he go into WWII already 

as a photographer...

then we found this beautiful and amazing photo in

a stash of very old ones...

My handsome Daddy in the war holding

his prized camera.

Although he did not have time to start his photography business

before he served in WWII, he had completed his courses.

He came back home from Chicago to marry my Momma,

have two children and then be in a War.

Now this story is written here for all those who have

come after us who may wonder.

Ask the questions, young ones.

Speak to your elders, listen to their stories document it.

When you are young you think none of this can be important,

what the older generations have to say.

One day you may be like me, loosing yet another 

family member and wonder what stories they took with them.

Thanks to all who have thought and prayed for us 

Collins Clan.

 

thoughts of family

(mom's 90th bday party, my siblings minus Larry)

If you have followed my blog for some time,

you may remember when my oldest sister, Simone died

and what happened to me then.

For those of you who may not remember, I will share.

I am the baby of 7 children, my oldest sibling was 23 when I was born.

I was a sick child and was spoiled way beyond the normal.

I was and still am very proud of my family.

However, us all being born in different "era's"

with different life experiences we are all very much different.

I could write a book just on that topic, I will table that.

I have never been one to worry about age.

I have always rolled with the punches knowing that

another trip around the sun was a gift.

My oldest brother died first but because he had already 

left our family and lived with his family in Brownsville,

we didn't get to see him that often.

What I remember about his death was the piercing scream

my almost 90 year old Momma bellowed.

The way she put her hand on his name at his burial site and just cried.

(my brother, Larry's burial site and his family)

When Simone died It was a totally different awakening for me.

My oldest sibling at 82 dying had me realize that we are

all getting older, none of us are getting out alive

and being the youngest, I may have to watch many of my siblings die.

We all were raised very close, everyone coming home for the holidays.

Home to the big house where we all grew up.

Through my life my family had buried our parents,

Aunts, Uncles and many good friends.

When Simone died I realized that being the baby of a large family

I will bury many of those I love,

which goes back to my Mom's words that I have said way too often lately:

THE HARDEST PART OF GROWING OLD IS WATCHING LOVED ONES DIE.

It never made more sense to me than when Simone died.

Yesterday, cousins and friends gathered not to mourn 

my cousin Jolynn but to celebrate her life.

It was a beautiful service, it was a celebration that would

have made all our parents proud.

Afterwards we gathered at her daughters home and

did what we just don't do enough of anymore.

We gathered to make the Vey Yay.

to "shoot the shit" to tell stories, catch up on family.

The reality is as we all get older, it will be in 

these instances of funerals that family gathers,

and after yesterday, I am okay with it.

I believe fully in a life after this and that 

we will be all together again one day.

Mourning and loss, I believe is for this side

and that those who go before us will be there waiting for us,

to show us where the best "vey yay" spots are.

Love to all my Cheramie and Collins families!

( below, photo taken of Collins family at Eserman 50th family reunion)

Lawrence Antill, Jr. family

It was a garage sale in Thibodaux way back in 2013...

A few young Nicholls students were having a garage sale.

One of the boys was now living in his grandfathers home

along with a few roommates. 

To clear out space and add a few dollars in their pockets,

they had cleaned out the attic of this older home.

As I heard them say they were living here while going to college,

I came across this book...

THE EPIC OF THE 101ST. AIRBORNE

"Why are you selling this??"

My nostalgic mind could not grasp how anyone

would sell this beautiful piece at a garage sale for....

50 CENTS!

"Don't do it!" I begged...

As i went through the book, I saw that the owner

of the book,

PFC Lawrence J. Antill, Jr.

Machine gunner and rifleman

Not only was the owner of this beautiful piece

from France in 1945 but also added his own

black and white photos to the picture book,

along with his own titles to what each photo meant.

I pleaded with the under 20 year old...

"Please keep this, this is your heritage..."

"Isn't there anyone in your family who would want this?"

"One day you will wish you had this book, it's your family."

He laughed, and said he didn't even know who that person was.

None of my reasonings such as 

one day he would be my age and wonder about these times

and how his family helped to shape the United States it came to be.

"You can have it"

Was his answer,

I remembered being young and didn't really think about the 

part my family played in War and the armed services.

I gave him a dollar and looked him in the eyes...

"I will buy this book and save it for you,

because one day you will regret this and I will still have it."

He took my dollar and didn't look back.

It is now over 10 years since I bought this beautiful book.

I did forget to write down the young man's name.

I have shared this story with many as well as the book.

I have treasured it lovingly all these years but 

never called it my own, I have been fostering it.

So help me out here, people.

If you are or know anyone of the 

Lawrence J. Antill, Jr. family.

Send them this blog post.

I am getting older and really would like to pass it

down to a rightful owner.

RIP MR. ANTILL AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE.

 

For My Nephew, YURI

The last few days my nephew, Yuri 

and I have been texting about my Dad and his WWII days.

Yuri is my brother, Larry's son and out of

all the grandchildren, Larry's children know the least 

of our family stories because they

were brought up by their Momma in Brownsville.

Our text this time started because I had posted

an old photo of his Daddy as a child.

Which started questions he had...

"Did Poppee receive a Purple Heart?"

"Yes he did"

and I realized he had not heard the story of

why my Daddy was given this high reward.

After I texted Yuri the story, 

I realized that although I have blogged this before,

there are still some great grands of my Dad 

who may have not heard it so a retelling is warranted.

MY Daddy did not speak of WWII much,

those men and women who fought then

had not heard of PTSD so I believe they just put it out their mind.

However, there is one story I heard him tell

more than once and his point was of the

"Human contact"

My Daddy served in Okinawa long before my birth.

He was a morse code operator for a portion of the War

and that is all I know about what he did there.

He told me the day he got shot was the best day of his life.

I thought as a child this was a strange thing to say

as the bullet went in and out one thigh and lodged

into the bone of the second thigh causing him

to have fractures in those legs and a long recovery.

When asked why would this have been the best day of his life

we would say,

"Because I knew I was dying or going home"

After a long stay in a hospital in Germany, he was

then sent to the US to complete his recovery.

Although this story is enough to end the blog here,

it is not the best part of his story.

He remembers getting shot and falling to the ground.

The Japanese soldier who shot him went right up to 

him and pointed the gun at him,

My dad just knew he was going to die...

Instead he and the soldier made eye contact,

and the soldier put his gun down and walked away.

I have often though of this story my Daddy rarely told.

He would always end it with a statement about the human contact.

Making eye contact turned  two young soldiers

into men with families who were serving a War 

as they were trained to do.

It is one of my very favorite stories.

Thanks Yuri for reminding me that although

this story has been told here more than once,

there are still others who have not heard it.

A story that needs to be remembered for the ages...

WHEN COUSINS DIE..

 WHAT DOES IT MEAN WHEN A COUSIN DIES...

I have many cousins.

Many were my first friends outside of my siblings.

As we have gotten older we don't get to play as we used to.

We have watched each other marry and 

buried all our aunts and uncles and parents.

Now it has come to our cousins, 

our generation...

We only now get together at funerals it seems...

Because I was the last of my parents litter,

many of my cousins are older than me.

Which seems to mean I am going to see 

many of my cousins die.

Yesterday we lost another of our Collins Lineage.

Joelynn, the oldest daughter of my Aunt Mae Mae and Uncle Joe.

Because my Uncle Joe died young, leaving my Aunt Mae Mae

with 6 children, Joelynn had a lot of responsibilities.

Because she was the oldest and the youngest was still a baby

she had to step in almost as a parent to the younger ones.

My aunt had to go to work to support her children

so the younger of the children looked up to Jolynn 

through their whole life.

She was my cousins Matriarch after her Momma died

so it is with a heavy heart my Griffin cousins lay to rest

another of their siblings.

We are a big family, but each remain connected in some way.

Yesterday as news of Jo"s  passing spread,

we began to reconnect..

Text messages to cousins,

phone calls from Buddy and a long conversation

with Reggie transpired.

All in the name of Joelynn.

All our lives have gotten filled with 

our own children and families

but our parents taught us right,

when one of us are hurting, we come out in support.

Reggie and I are the same age, went to the same school

were good friends growing up and now,

we don't talk much....

however when one of our own dies, 

it will be a phone call and we will catch up.

So last night it was that phone call...

Jesi was here and heard our conversation.

Afterwards, she commented on how nice it was

that even though we are all older, that we still

have a sense of closeness.

Yes, when one of your cousins die,

you are brought back to a time in your childhood

where those cousins were a part of your daily lives.

We will come together once more on Tuesday 

to celebrate the life of my cousin, Joelynn

and the Collins Lineage.

It will be sad in some ways as all funerals are,

yet it will be a coming together of all those cousins

that are adults now.

There will be tears, but there will also be

lots of stories told, laughing of memories we all share.

RIP, my dear cousin,

may you join all our family who have gone before us

in whatever awaits for us after this life.

I just know, when its my time to go,

you will be there awaiting my arrival.

Much love to all my cousins.

Lilbit of Lil bit

Let me say a little bit about Lilbit.

There is so much about my life that I am so very proud of.

My Dad was the photographer...

One of the last professional photos he took was of me,

his last baby....

He had to retire when I was three because of a WWII injury.

Because of this, he never took photos after,

so this is literally, one of his last photos.

Hence the famous Collins Carpet we children always talk about.

If you see this carpet in an old photo, 

you can bet Freddie Collins name is attached to it.

So, I came to my parents when they were 43 and 45.

After 9 pregnancies and 6 living children, 

with their oldest being 23, I was born.

Mr. Randolph used to tell me the story of that day.

Out of all my Momma's babies, 

I was the only one delivered via c-section.

My Dad ran into Randolph's Restaurant

and announced,

"We have a girl, another little girl!"

Mr. Randolph asked him "What's her name?"

and my Dad stopped, looking confused 

and said, "I don't remember!"

I don't know why this story cracks me up

to think he had so many kids that he didn't remember my name...

My kiddo's tease me about how many times I tell

people I had childhood cancer in 1968.

I am so proud of the fact I survived an incurable cancer

that I tell most anyone who wants to listen.

I wear it as a trophy....

because I know how fortunate I am not only to still be here

but to be a voice for others.

I would not change the fact that I had cancer.

I honestly believe it is in that fight that

I became the person I am today.

When facing any obstacle or challenge there are two roads you can take.

The negative or the positive.

My family brought me up to know how fortunate I was

to have beaten this cancer.

This made me brave, had me see the world in a different light.

I am always saying there is good and bad in everyone.

It is my optimistic nature that has me believing

that we all wake up each morning with a choice 

and that most people really do want to better the World.

Yes, call me naive but it has carried me through 61 years.

So here I am now, living my 62nd year on this planet.

With so many stories to share.

I am content and happy most days and although

some mornings are hard to get started

I know how fortunate I am to still be here.

I hope I always try and see the good in every situation

even those that seem hopeless.

Thanks for following my journey here

as I navigate growing up....

I am determined to leave the stories here for 

the next generation.

Much love to you all!

                                                                                        

 

THE MANGER....

If you have been around me since I became a Mumsie

you know I put much thought and effort

to the memories for my grandgirls.

I want, when they are old and say," Mumsie's Cottage"

they are flooded with stories of me and all the

things I have shown and taught them.

I want it all to be sealed to their hearts and minds.

POOKIE

I have called them this way before it became a popular word.

Jilly said, "My Mumsie been calling us that all the time"

I do believe I am the one that made that word up 

so I am hoping Wikipedia gives me the credit.

POOKIE- A WORD MADE UP BY A LADY

FROM GOLDEN MEADOW AS A TERM OF ENDEARMENT

TO THOSE SHE LOVES.

There, giving myself credit!

.... LOUISE....

I  have a habit of when I do call your real name,

 I say Louise after as though its your middle name.

So much so that I even called the neighbors dog

"Stella Louise"

and Jesi said "she's been saying Louise since I was kid."

I say it so much that just the other day i called

"Jemma Louise"

and someone said, "oh what a pretty middle name"

her middle name is not Louise... its Kate.

When we go shopping, I always make them think of their purchases

by saying:

" WE CAN MAKE THAT..."

I must say it more than I know because

when I take Mia (Jia) and the grandgirls shopping

they count how many times I say it.

However, they do think hard about their purchases now.

The grandgirls know of my love for a good garage sale 

or thrift store second  only to an antique store.

They are very aware of how much I like old things

and if you see a pile of junk on the side of the road,

you should stop and look.

Which brings me to the reason for this post in the first place.

ONE DAY JILLY AND JEMMA SAY THEY HAVE TO 

FACETIME ME...

I DID SO AND THEY WERE SO VERY EXCITED

"MUMSIE. WE FOUND SOMETHING ON THE SIDE OF

THE ROAD AND WE CARRIED IT ALL THE WAY

TO OUR HOUSE FOR YOU!"

THEY CARRIED A FULL SIZE EARLY 80'S 

CONSOLE TV ALL THE WAY FROM THE 

FRONT OF THEIR STREET TO THEIR HOUSE FAR IN THE BACK.

OH MY HEART!

HOW AM I GOING TO BREAK IT GENTLY TO THEM

THAT I HAVE NO NEED FOR THAT...

"AHH, GIRLS, THANK YOU SO MUCH BUT I REALLY  

DON'T HAVE ROOM FOR IT"

I COULD SEE THEY WERE DISAPPOINTED...

"YOU CAN MAKE AN AQUARIUM OUT OF IT"

THEN I REMEMBERED LONG AGO THAT I SPOKE

OF SOMEONE WHO HAD AN OLD TV LIKE THIS

AND THEY HAD MADE AN AQUARIUM WITH IT.

I FELT TERRIBLE ABOUT IT, BUT THEY GOT OVER IT 

FASTER THAN I DID.

I THOUGHT ABOUT IT FOR DAYS AFTER,

THEIR EXCITEMENT TO SURPRISE ME

WITH SOMETHING THEY THOUGHT WOULD BE

PERFECT FOR THE COTTAGE.

I worried that never again would they haul anything

home again for me.

How wrong I was...

Right after Christmas, I get a FaceTime call from Jilly.

She, MIa (Jia) and Aubrey were playing in the neighborhood

and they found something in the trash of someone

that they just had to get for me.

Jilly pans to this beautiful little manger,

equipped with all the pieces that are glued in.

She points out all the special pieces and how 

there is absolutely nothing wrong with it.

I am ecstatic.... really I am so very excited

not only because it is precious,

 but because there three little girls on an adventure

saw this in someones yard and just knew

they had to have it for me.

BE STILL MY HEART.

So now, whenever you come to my Cottage 

there will be a manger out year round.

It will stay in the library until someone else 

is in charge of my things.

The manger will become another story in the 

dozens I already have for the Cottage.

It will stand proudly as a reminder to me

that I am instilling things in them that will last a lifetime.

I also hope each time Jilly and Jemma see it they are reminded:

"REMBEMBER THAT TIME WE CARRIED 

AN OLD CONSOLE TV ALL THE WAY HOME

FOR MUMSIE?"

 

When in breaux bridge....

WHEN IN BREAUX BRIDGE

DO LIKE THEIR PEOPLE DO AND EAT AT

CHEZ JACQUELINE'S!

Jes and Del said "you have to come with us Saturday"

Always an adventure with those two...

They started telling me about the owner/cook 

from France who does all her own cooking...

and I was sold!

We left early and arrived there just around 11.

There was the cutest little restaurant with the cutest little 

lady she greeted herself and I introduced us.

Jacqueline is like the grandmother we all wish to have.

Never in a hurry, explains her menu and if you just can't decide

on appetizers, she orders that for you.

You cannot go wrong with her crab cakes,

tasting just like boiled crabs from Grand Isle.

Her server is just as kind and brags about her boss 

every chance she gets, while Jacqueline does the same about her.

The atmosphere is awesome, and having lunch with Jes and D

is an experience in itself as the tell stories about

all the foods they have tried, all the places they have been

and hope to go to.

All the food was excellent, don't be in a hurry when you go there.

Because this 80 year old chef does her own cooking

and then she sits and chats with you...

We find out she makes her own bloody Mary mix

and offers to make some for J and D.

After 2 hours in this beautiful place we get up to 

leave but not without a photo of us all.

Its a delight and a treat, make sure you 

visit Chez Jacqueline. you will not be disappointed.