It’s Mardi Gras week here on the Gulf. An annual event that, IMHO, has absolutely no cultural value, except to give everyone a chance to wear purple/gold/green clothing and accessories, dye their hair, attend parades with really kitschy floats, go to parties with lavish foodstuffs, and indulge in a concoction known as a King Cake, which every coffee shop in town creates into a latte.
New Orleans doesn’t have exclusive rights to this one.
I looked up the history of Mardi Gras and Americans have the French to thank for it, (surprise?) They brought it to the Gulf in the 1700’s as a way to indulge before the fasting season of Lent. The phrase actually means “Fat Tuesday”. Let the good times roll cuz, the food is gonna disappear on Wednesday. In some states Mardi Gras is celebrated from November till Fat Tuesday, kind of a long celebration when compared to the mere 40 days of Lent.
Here in Gulf Shores restaurants have kept their Christmas trees up decorating them with beads and garland in those iconic colors. Designer menu items abound. Walmart assaults you with its Mardi Gras section at the entrance of the home side. King cakes welcome you at the food side. Kids are out of school in some areas so they can participate in the parades or attend them. There are even parades for the dog.
As a Protestant and a Pentecostal Christian, Lent was never part of my experience, neither was Fat Tuesday or Ash Wednesday. We eschewed the world wide church calendar, attributing it to the religion that Protestants wanted to reform.
Today, Christian religions, of all flavors, tend to be more tolerant of each other. Pentecostals can lift their hands in a Baptist worship service without fear of being asked to leave. And not all of us believe the Pope to be the Anti-Christ anymore. So many non-denominations exist that the lines around various denominations are minimally fuzzy if not invisible. Growing up that wasn’t always the case. My husband’s grandparents and family, were ‘swept out’ of their Swedish Baptist church in the 30’s for ‘coming into Pentecost’.
I share all of this simply to say that Mardi Gras is something we watch from afar and look at with curiosity, but really don’t get very excited about. I’ve never tasted King Cake, have no desire to decorate anything in purple/gold/green, and I’ve never attended one of the multiple parades around town. As much as I’ve read up on the history and traditions of the season – I give it a big, meh, with one exception,
Mardi Gras beignets, they are exceptional.
This weekend is also the anniversary of the fire that upended our world last year. I’m happy to report that we managed to make it through with nary a hiccup. No PTSD dreams, Facebook didn’t send us any memory photos. Our updated RV is perfect, the new truck runs great, puppy is the star of every outdoor place we take him, and the cat continues to live as if nothing happened.
I’m excited to keep traveling.
2 more weeks in the Gulf and then we head to New Orleans, to meet up with a friend whose never been to the Deep South. She’s a widow of one year, who we’ve known with for 36 years. I’m looking forward to the horse and carriage ride through town, more beignets, maybe a visit to the WWII museum and a plantation. We’re staying in the state park, across the lake from the city. Fountainbleu, the name alone creates a sense of foreign lands.
After that we’ll start our journey north to Indiana for the spring/summer via Louisiana, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Missouri and Ohio. Carolyn will join us for Oklahoma/Missouri. I wanted company when I see the Pioneer Woman’s lands in Pawhuska OK, and to have a shopping buddy when we go to Quilt City in Hamilton MO. I hear they have a dedicated Christmas fabric store there.
My kryptonite.
In the meantime I continue to quilt my little heart out, sharing them with my fellow addicts from last year.
It’s been lovely to catch up with these ladies. We’re staying here 3 months next year to escape the winter in the Midwest. Mid December to mid March, I already made a reservation. And we’re likely to continue our winters here till we no longer can.
In the meantime we plan, live, travel and keep busy. My fabric stash grows with each locale. Bruce continues to look for property while keeping business hours. And when we get tired of one place, we can always find another.
And I write…
Leave a Reply