NOLA... my heart

Six years ago, in 2005, Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, devastating thousands.  After that day, my heart was forever sealed in the city of New Orleans.  I took multiple mission trips there to do Disaster Relief, and spent a summer with Kelly in Westwego (15 minutes outside New Orleans).  There are so many reasons I love this city.  Namely, the people, but that's for another blog post.  Today I wanted to remember the little things that make New Orleans special, so that one day Gianna can look back and know why her mom and dad talk about it all the time.

Have you ever had a Po Boy?  They're awesome... particularly in NOLA because the fish are so fresh.

These railroad cars give so much character to the French Quarter.  We've had fun riding them, but also been faced with bad-mouthing drunks sitting in front of us.  You take the good with the bad.  Fun times.

Everywhere you go, people have town-spirit, especially when you talk about the Saints.  I saw so many "who-dat" signs... they made me smile everytime.  I love how people in this city are connected by a love for the same football team.  They take pride in the Saints and root together for them to win.  My pictures aren't great, but I did the best I could while in the car.

The bridges.  Kelly and I love the bridges.  They are so beautiful, and you can see the whole city everytime you get on the highway.  I've never experienced any highway system like the one in NOLA.  

Fleur De Lis.  Everywhere you look, there is a fleur de lis.  Even on the trash cans!  Everytime I see one now, my heart gets happy and I am tempted to buy whatever it is that has the symbol on it.

Red Beans and Rice, the most delicious meal you've ever tasted.  I know, if you've never had it before, it sounds really strange and not at all what you'd want for dinner.  I remember eating it at a meeting when I was a NAMB missionary there, and I thought, "this is what they're giving us for lunch?"  But one bite later (and especially after eating Sena's red beans), I was hooked.  I'm working on perfecting my recipe.

And the sky.  I don't know if it's because NOLA is below sea level, or because I just love the city so much, but there is no sky more beautiful than here.  The clouds often look so low you could touch them, and sometimes in the morning the sky turns a rich purple-red.  I could ride over those bridges looking at the New Orleans sky for hours.

And, in case you were wondering, yes we did name our dog after the city.  Nola = NOLA (New Orleans LouisianA)

Friendship over Freedom

I don't have any pictures for this blog, but these two things were too cute for me not to write about.  

1.  Yesterday, I was putting away laundry in Gia's room.  Gia was playing near me, and she crawled up and began handing me the ::already folded:: laundry.  So I would take a onesie from her, say "Thank you!" refold it, and put it away just in time to recieve another one from her.  She was so happy to be helping me!  Hopefully she will continue to love helping me with things, and do it as cheerfully as she did yesterday!

2.  I had forgotten one of my letters when I went to the post office, so I came back to look for it.  Now, don't freak out... I left Gia in the car for a whole 10 seconds as I went into the kitchen to get the letter, and I left the car doors open for ventilation.  I was hurrying, so I closed the gate but didn't lock it.  When I came back out, the gate was wide open, and Nola wasn't responding to her name.  I ran down the driveway to see if I could see her, but she wasn't there.  I figured she had run around the back of the neighborhood, so I went to get Gia out of the car, and there was Nola.  Sitting in the back at Gianna's feet.  I laughed, then scolded Nola, put her in the kennel, and continued to laugh.  Nola loves that little baby!  She'd rather play with her friend Gia then escape to freedom... makes my heart happy :o)

The Plank

I was sanding down a bench that we had in the garage on Saturday morning.  I wore gloves and had a large piece of sand paper that I was working with, so I thought I would be safe.  Unfortunately as I was sanding, a chunck of wood broke off and implanted itself in my hand.  There was a little piece sticking out, so I tried to pull it out... FYI, don't do that.  Obviously, it broke, and I was left with a searing pain in my palm.  

I ran to the bathroom and soaked my hand for about 10 minutes.  Bobby tried to squeeze it out, but I just cried and cried, so he stopped.  We decided to go to Urgent Care and have the doctor look at it.  On the way there I moved my pinky and felt a sharp pain.  It was then that I realized the splinter had gone clear across my hand and was pushing the skin out at the base of my pinky finger.  We knew at that point that the doctor was probably going to have to do something more invasive to get it out.  We started refering to it as a "plank" because, as Gina said, "splinter just seems too insignificant."  It made me think of the Bible verse that says, "...first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."  

We got to the doctor and signed in.  I got a funny look when I said, "I have a really bad splinter."  Who goes to Urgent Care for a splinter?  What a wuss.  When the nurse came and got me, she took us in the office and got information from me.  As she was typing, I asked her, "do you have novocain here?"  She kind of laughed, apparently thinking I was being dramatic, and after a pause said, "I don't know if that's necessary, but yes, we do have lidocaine here."  

Well, turns out I was not being dramatic.  The doctor came in, also thinking it was no big deal, took one look at my hand and said, "hmm, I need to go get my tools."  He said that he had only seen a splinter that bad on one other person who sat down on a bench the wrong way.  So, after a little bit, the nurse came in to prep my hand.

The doctor (actually, he was a PA) numbed my hand up really well (it took him 2 tries), and then spent about 15 minutes trying to dig it out.  He kept saying that it was bleeding too much for him to see what he was doing, but he could feel the "plank" with his needle.  At one point he said to us, "if I can't get it out, I may have to call a hand surgeon in to make an incision."  Not a great thing to say in that moment.  After a long time, he finally was able to push the plank up and grab it with the tweezers.  He got the whole thing out (thank you, Lord!) and it was an inch long!  

I also had to have a tetanus shot, which now hurts worse than my hand.  Oh well, I needed one anyway.  Bobby and I had planned a date that morning while his parents watched Gia.  We kept joking that it wasn't what we imagined, but at least we were creative in our dates and got to spend some quality time together.  But hopefully this will be the last time we spend our date in Urgent Care.