Cold Spaghetti

{ 2005 07 06 }

Our fallen fence. Our yard is on the right — with the beat-up looking out building (it’s seen better days.) A lime tree holds it up in the back of the yard.

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Regular dishes on life in New Orleans, historic home renovation, raising kids, completing a PhD, travel near and far, global concerns, and health issues.
Cold Spaghetti
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You know the story, right? International health... work all over the place... drag my kids around in sacks through villages in Central America... yadda yadda. I decided to go for another degree, so in 2004 we moved to New Orleans with no intention of staying. Then Katrina. And then *blink*blink* New Orleans is a completely different place and we just can't leave. Suddenly I'm on TV talking about immigrants and health and Paul is starting a company. Or two. His side is high-tech, mine is community health and our lives are yearly evacuation, regular celebrations, and nonstop work here, there, and everywhere. Our door is always open. I only ask that if you decide to go ahead and make yourself that mint julep, you make one for me, too.

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