BaRou is the New Bklyn

Grow your own

Totally grew this and then totally ate it. Picante.

Three less eggs to fry

I probably shouldn't post this for the preverts of the world to read, but the f recently departed for Europe for an unspecified amount of time. So far since he's been gone, I'ts been a pretty action-packed couple of days. I've been hit on by a stranger, cowered in fear at a potential home invasion, gone on an unintentional shopping spree, and gotten almost no writing done. Sorry, feminism, sometimes I can be such an unproductive girly girl.

She sells sanctuary

This is the time of year that back in New York I'd start to feel trapped by bricks and concrete. I'd wish for a country-house retreat, fantasize about having my own yard, and plan my first camping trip of the season. As spring became summer, I'd grow even more anxious to get back to nature.

And now here in BaRou, where it's already been spring for two months, I finally have a yard. My first impression of our lush, semi-tropically appointed back yard last year was sanctuary, and during this past sad weekend, that observation rang true. It helped to be out there with the dog in my own parcel of green and flowered space. (That's one reason I'm so jazzed about my fiance's future profession of landscape architecture; humans bound by concrete, without enough green space, are probably more prone to aggression. Just look at New Yorkers. Another reason I'm jazzed about it is that his chosen profession is not "musician." Don't get me started--am I right, ladies?!)

Friday blase roundup

In Baton Rouge, it's pretty when you don't mow the back yard! This place encourages you to be lazy at all turns.

Sooo, I haven't commented too much on the BR scene lately not just because I've been traveling, but because I'm more accustomed to it. I get it: every month there's some new holiday/season/festival with different traditions than I'm used to and weird foods I haven't tried yet. The latest now that Easter's over, according to props and context clues at the supermarket, is crawfish season. Anyway, I'm sure I'll try crawfish dumped in a pile on a picnic table with corn and spice or whatevs they put in there, at some point. And the colors of items I own such as bicycles, minivans, lawn chairs, refrigerator magnets, and hair will continue to fade faster in the stronger sunlight. And I'll still miss my friends and the city. And life will go on.

Along with my not needing to blog as much, is my needing to not blog for free as much. (Unfortunately, since I enjoy the community of blogging immensely.) So I'll still post a few times a week, but you won't be seeing any epics like that last post for awhile.

Friday tidbits and Internet stuff, after the jump.

It's a freaky Friday roundup, for shizzle

Imagine my amusement on finding this book that my bf apparantly read as a wee lad.

Yes, it's Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm and the Witch Who Ran Out of Jizzle. You can see it was purchased for 20 cents at Bradlees, which in the pre-Wal-Mart/Target era, was every mom's favorite discount emporium, along with Caldor, with its brown rainbow logo. (And before them, I think, it was Two Guys? At least where I'm from.)

No matter! Clearly, there's something much more important to discuss.