Diary 6|7, 8|2014: Grilled Oysters 2.0. Birthday Bubbles.

[title type="h5"]Saturday, June 8, 2014. Nature. Breakfastless. [/title] The wood thrushes--the queedle-deep birds here at the Cool Water Ranch--are a month into their mating season. They are still singing loud and clear every morning. The guys must be desperate, with their season cut short as it has been. Either that or the girls are playing hard to get. In other news from the woods. . . Mary Ann was moving some junk around and was shocked to see a copperhead slide out of the pile and rapidly away through the fence and into the woods. Our neighbor says that another copperhead turned up in her carport. I suspect it may be the same one, but who knows? In twenty-three years, these are the third and fourth sightings of the poisonous pit vipers, for whom this is natural habitat. You live in the wild, you see wild things. I am depressed that nobody wants to have Saturday breakfast with me anymore. Mary Ann has sworn off for dietary reasons. Mary Leigh is too busy--this week, with major cakes for two good customers of her architectural creations. Radio show on WWL, noon till three. We are in that nice time of year when no sporting events jerk the Saturday show around. But it's a short season, coming to a close when the Saints get to work the first week of August. [caption id="attachment_42614" align="alignleft" width="480"] New Orleans Food & Spirits grilled oysters Florentine.[/caption] Dinner at New Orleans Food and Spirits, which has risen lately to the top of the default casual restaurant list on days when I'm on the North Shore. A half-dozen raw oysters and a half-dozen grilled for me. The latter are made with spinach-artichoke dip, under the name "Florentine." That seems to be a growing trend, now that ripoffs od Drago's grilled oysters are becoming too commonplace. The Marys eat even lighter. It's a good thing we're regulars, or the servers would look askance on Mary Ann's penchant for ordering absolutely nothing and drinking a glass of water.[divider type=""] [title type="h5"]Sunday, June 8, 2014. Bubbly Birthday Party.[/title] It's the first birthday for the youngest child of Mary Ann's nephew Brian and his wife, who have just moved into a marvelously well-restored, grand house uptown. Mary Leigh baked the cake, featuring bubbles as a motif. The boy is into bubbles. There awas Champagne for the adult side of the theme. When Jude was this age, he had a thing for traffic lights. I am this boy's great-uncle by marriage, right?. As I walk around the ranch this afternoon, I take inventory of my extended family. My sister's son Mickey and his wife just had their first child, so I am great again. But Mary Ann--who has six siblings to my three--is ahead on the great-nephews by a score of nine to seven. Thoughts like this are great for keeping my mind off other things. The lady up the street, for example. She is angry with us--and rightly so--because the big dog Steel has been intimidating her dogs. There's always something to worry about. Enough food was served at the birthday party to tide me over for the whole day.