As usual, we spent Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) in the French Quarter wandering in costumes. It was a gorgeous 80 and sunny so I pulled out a purple tank top and green pants I’d crocheted long ago. I was surprised to find they turned out to be a big hit with the crowds. Some of my favorites were the anti-pre-shredded-cheese “Make America Grate Again” couple, a woman with “Alternate Facts” written on her hat holding a sign that said La La Land won the Oscar, the senior citizens as “50 Shades of Grey.”and a guy in a back suit carrying the Presidential “football.” Inside were maps of missile reaches, a naughty password for the nuclear codes, a signed shirtless photo from Putin and a rather small hand scanner.
You never know where the day will take you. We ended up being invited to join friends on a balcony overlooking the many bands, boom boxes and creative floats being pushed by hand. The intersection below us became a block party. Out-of-town guests joined us for their first Mardi Gras. I’d given the women of our group pink wigs that I encouraged them to wear so they wouldn’t feel “weird.”
We stayed for homemade gumbo and visiting with friends then wandered the streets for awhile before attending another balcony party. A couple of my Pussyfooters “sisters” were there. We were all still tired from a long and wonderful season of parade dancing. By the end of the day, I’d gotten to hug 4 Pussyfooters! And I’d crossed paths with DancingMan504 3 times by day’s end.
Our guests really enjoyed the day and it was fun to share it with people for whom everything was new. We’d explained to them that almost no one works on Mardi Gras, that even the schools and post offices are closed. But midday, my phone alerted me that I’d just booked a job out of state. It was an excellent reminder that everywhere else it’s just Tuesday.