NOLA homecoming
Hard to believe I was in New Orleans two weeks ago.
I was there for the Education Writers Association conference and stayed a few days to hang out with my family and enjoy the city.
On Thursday morning, my first in the city, I woke up and ran a sweaty three miles along the neutral ground (median) to Audubon Park. I’ve run a handful of times since February, but this was the first run that felt good, natural. It had nothing to do with the heat and humidity — I could have done without that.
I snacked on fruit and read the newspaper in the kitchen while chatting with my aunt. The scene could have happened two years ago. Again, natural.
Other now-foreign experiences that felt “natural:” walking to get coffee at Rue de La Course, riding shotgun through narrow streets, iced pecan praline coffee from PJ’s, heading straight to the right aisle in my old grocery store, listening to Kermit Ruffins and eating gumbo in the sun, dining al fresco on Magazine with an old friend.
When recapping my short trip to NOLA, a friend pointed out the obvious: Going to New Orleans is like going home.
I don’t have to do touristy things or see the sights — I’m happiest just stretching on my aunt and uncle’s porch, breathing in the jasmine and morning humidity. Or drinking Abita and eating cheese fries (2 nights in a row) at my favorite hangout. Or laughing with my cousins in my aunt’s kitchen.
I came home with strong coffee, sunburn and a full heart. I can always go home. And when I can’t, I can brew some strong coffee and think of it.
Tags: coffee, family, New Orleans, work
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