Sunday, August 21, 2016.
Hymns With The Methodists.
A difficulty in organizing a chorus is finding a place big enough to have all the singers in one room. We have been lucky in having the First Methodist Church in Covington as our home. It's a big space with good acoustics and a nice piano. The church has a new minister, and the leaders of our assembly of singers offered to perform some of the hymns in our repertoire to show our appreciation.
The church's members reciprocate by putting out a spread of food for us in its adjacent great room. Mary Ann would have loved it. Lots of macaroni and cheese, dirty rice, beans, and a bunch of small desserts.
I am a cradle Catholic, but I have never hesitated to visit other churches when invited. The Methodist service is new to me. I add my respects to a list that includes full services in Southern Baptist, Lutheran, Greek Orthodox, and Unitarian churches. And, in their own special categories, a number of African-American Christian churches (mostly for the purpose of hearing their music) and a Reform Jewish temple. I have sung in most of these. So it was a busy day today even before noon.
I wrote tomorrow's--as I did last Sunday--so that tomorrow I can spend some time trying to make my new wireless phone useful. Main problem: I have no wireless signal at the Cool Water Ranch.
I succeed in taking a forty-five minute walk. Then it starts raining. So much for cutting grass. When will this depressing weather end?
I have a routine supper at the Acme Oyster House. Fried oyster poor boy in combination with a cup of chicken-andouille gumbo and a side salad. A scoop of ice cream for dessert. Everything is as it should be. We have eleven days before the official beginning of the raw oyster season.
Monday, August 22, 2016.
The Best-Tasting Red Beans Often Look Worst.
I pay my fifth or sixth visit to the offices of MetroPCS, the service provider for my new wireless phone. I have not been able to use the phone even to confirm that I have the number, because I have zero signal coming in at home. I am ready to throw in the towel. But the two very helpful staffers at the shop tell me something I hadn't considered. "The Baton Rouge telephone network was hit really hard by the floods," they tell me. "Even emergency service has suffered, and so have some of the towers on this side of the flooding."
I feel like a cold-blooded jerk. Here I am with my petty complaint, while people are homeless, hungry, incommunicado, and worse. Their big disaster hit at exactly the same time my minor inconvenience did.
Nevertheless, the Metro tech fellow shows me how to get my phone on the grid without my having to suck up needed resources. And how to answer a phone call or send a text message--both of which eluded me.
[caption id="attachment_52507" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Red beans at Buster's Place.[/caption]
I run a few errands I missed over the weekend, then I have lunch at Buster's in Covington. It's my second time recently, I am pleased to report that the place has become reliably good. The red beans and hot sausage are delicious, but they show a common characteristic with much Creole and Cajun cooking: it doesn't look very appetizing. The red beans and rice are high on fluids. Almost a soup. But they taste great. When I reach that point, I am happy.
Buster's Place. Covington: 519 E Boston. 985-809-3880.
