Mardi Monday Grass
We don’t have the floats and the gaiety up here. The best we can offer is the occasional parades with the local Shrine Mummers strutting around with their feathers and banjos. Actually, I haven’t seen that for quite a while. Maybe it’s molting season and the plumage just isn’t out right now.
Or do the Mummers come out this time of year? I do know, down in NOLA, as the New Orleaners like to call their fair city, what’s left of it, there are mostly floats with hardly a feather and banjo in sight. At least, as far as I can tell. Never been there myself, but I think they are out around Thanksgiving time. Maybe someone can tell me.
Meanwhile, the cakes and pies are disappearing from our fridge. I’m sure the donuts will remain, if just out of habit. I wouldn’t eat one of those for anything; once I saw the ingredients (fat, saturated fat, flour, fat, sugar, fat, sugar), I made up my mind it wasn’t worth what it did to my innards and outards.
We have two days to live it up before we put on the cloak of repentance. Yes, it is a fairly comfortable cloak in our religion these days and the next person to starve will be the first. But if nothing else, we can pack away all those nice things before the next forty days and maybe even be the healthier for it.