Bibs Needed.....

Tessa and I are home from Biloxi.  We experienced a crawfish boil.  Spicy, messy, sensuous dining standing around a plywood octagon table with a 2x4 lip to keep the steaming pile of corn, potatoes, sausage and crawfish confined. Watching it being dumped out was stunning.  A plastic pail fit neatly in a hole cutout in the middle to throw shells and waste.  Easy hosing off after.  Then remove the 20 squares of 'paper towel bib' dripping with juice and other remains of the carnivorous feasting.  The evidence was piled up and obvious-no mistaking what we had just done!  Stained fingers, wide smiles, full tummies, burning lips and glazed-over eyes.  

It was good to see the beach pretty again, the new graceful bridge, the bulky strong fishing docks out over the water and so much other restoration after Katrina.  

We had the best roast beef po'boy at Fayard's BP gas station?  Unbelievable good.  Yes, it was a gas station that had a full meat counter with meat right off the hoof it looked like.  Fresh, no plastic wrap to keep it 'fresh' for 4 weeks!   

The thing I can't figure out is why all Southerners aren't 500 hundred pounds.  The food is love, it is so good, so available, so part of the culture....but they aren't.  Maybe because they eat when they're hungry.   Stop when they're full.  Eat what really satisfies.  Hug alot.  Take naps.  Sit around and visit, friendly like.  Love the older folks.  Go fishin'.  Make music.  Dream.  Play.