Every day is special on the island, but Mother’s Day goes beyond extra special as husbands, sons, and fathers go outside their comfort zone to tour the historical homes of Galveston and make mom happy.  As the stories unfold about these century-old buildings, all are glad they took the time to learn of this beautiful island’s colorful history.  It began with the currently gutted City National Bank building, containing vaulted 3-story ceilings and leaded glass skylights to take your breath away.  To make the story more interesting, one of the Moody family members, who happens to be an eligible bachelor, has taken on the project of turning this awe-inspiring commercial building into his residence.  The building has a long way to go before bathrooms, bedrooms, sitting rooms and a kitchen will be created.  The fun is in imagining what each room will become.  We’ll have to wait till next year to find out!

The residences ranged from 484 square feet to over 6,000, and each held it’s own charm.  Wood floors over a century old have been preserved by painstakingly applying linseed oil over the years, while some have had the interiors completely gutted to add the modern conveniences.  There were quartz kitchens, granite and marble bathrooms, intricately inlaid parquet floors, and all were air conditioned.  The interior decor was impeccable in each and every one.  So many new ideas to ponder for my own little condo.  My hands-down favorite was the tiniest 484 square foot 2-room beach house with old wooden wine crates used as cabinet doors in the kitchen.  The entire space was paneled with reclaimed wood in a dark rustic walnut stain.  You just wanted to sit down on the couch, turn the tv on and kick off your shoes.  What amazingly creative islanders we are blessed with.  So proud to call Galveston home.

So much to experience ~ so little time ~ sums up our latest St Thomas adventure.  Literally minutes after the plane landed, we were on our way to a favorite snorkeling spot, Coki Bay, where the tourists admire the coral and schools of fish from the safety of Coral World underwater viewing tower.  Not for us though, as we swam among the mirade schools of ballyhoo and neon tetras.  As we waved our hands through the schools gently, they swam between our fingers fearlessly.  Such a mysterious silent world, filled with vibrant colors of the tropical fish and coral; we were accepted immediately by the local underwater population.

Yoga was early the next morning, with the sunrise at 7 a.m. we were on the mats at the Marriott with Paige leading us in her version of a “gentle practice.”  A non-stop hour later, I could have taken a nap:)  Not happening around Sister Paige.  Off we went to paddleboard Magen’s Bay, one of the most celebrated beaches in the Virgins, with good reason.  With the wind at our backs, we headed across the bay.  By the time we reached the far shore, the wind had picked up considerably.  I’ll admit it was a struggle against what seemed to be a 30 knot breeze to paddle back to our lounge chairs, where we collapsed.  As I was finally getting a much needed rest, a local fisherman who had been rowing his heavy wooden old-school dingy toward us, struggled at the shore to drag this behemoth of a skiff to a nearby tree.  Paige couldn’t stand watching the struggle and leapt up to help.  What an amazing story was discovered as Francesco described to us his 30 years as a lifeguard on Megan’s Bay.  In the beginning there were sharks!  Not conducive to attracting tourist:)  Francesco’s job was to clear the bay of these sharks, by hand, one at a time.  A story difficult to believe, until you take a look at 70 year old Francesco, rippling with muscles to this day, as you can see from his picture with Paige.

On the way home we stopped by the St Thomas Zipline to sign up for another adventure.  It is there that we met Jim Quetel, manager of the zipline and born on the island.  Jim invited us to meet for a drink at the local watering hole that afternoon.  We were in for another treat, as Jim described his life growing up in Frenchtown, another special part of St Thomas culture.  He left the island to join the marines about 25 years ago, to discover the world “off island” and raise a family.  As he retired, as God would have it, his family needed him back home.  As Jim described the passing of his father into a better world, I thought to myself that his recounting was the most beautiful spiritual journey I have ever witnessed.  Such a gentle soul couldn’t possibly have been a Master Sergeant in the Marines!

The zipline adventure is a favorite memory of all my time on the island.  Jim helped us choose a time that was uncrowded and cool as the sun was lower in the sky and the wind was high.  Two and a half hours of screaming until we were hoarse through narrow paths of palms, rubber and banana trees was every bit as exhilarating as expected.

We topped it off with local caribbean lobster at Mims, literally a foot from the lapping waves.  At high tide, our feet would have been wet.  As I prepared to leave St Thomas for the last time, a melancholy mood descended.  The indigenous wildlife, chickens running wild in the fields, iguanas sidling up to grab a bite of your sandwich on the beach, coki frogs singing to you all night, will be missed.  The people we met along the way will be missed the most.  I hope to return someday, good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise:)

 

 

As six generations of the Joseph Eloi Broussard clan gathered to rejoice in the bountiful blessings we have enjoyed, we reveled in the sheer size of our family.  Over 400 relatives spanning the US from California to Illinois came with one purpose in mind, to share memories and make new ones.  There were massive quantities of easter eggs scattered under the oak trees that Grandfather Broussard planted along the Hillebrandt Bayou 100 years ago.  The live band belted out country favorites, as well as a new song composed to commemorate the lives of Joe and Belle Broussard, where it all began.

Of course there was barbecue and fried chicken, but the best part was the dessert cookie Brady Koch surprised Kaitlyn Smith (great great granddaughter) with.  As she opened the cookie to cut a piece, she read the proposal engraved there. Brady dropped to one knee and asked for her hand.  She said yes!  Grandfather Broussard smiled from above.

My favorite part was my own little clan sharing LaBelle stories, easter egg hunting stories, and taking a photo safari through LaBelle Ranch after the picnic broke up.  Both of my daughters-in-law were introduced to the wilds of LaBelle for the first time. So many photo opps of alligators, cows, and marsh birds were taken.  We now have our very own bumper crop of gator babies at the picnic grounds pond, with a very protective mother floating nearby to keep us humans from getting too close.

They are so cute when they’re little!!  Not so much when they are floating next to you in the marsh:)  We thought of joining Craig Sherlock in his fancy airboat, but my son felt that might have been a little too wild for the 2 and 4 year old grandbabies.  Maybe next year!

Every year the bluebonnets grace the hill country for a few brief weeks in spring.  They tease us with their breathtaking patterns of blue brightening our roadways and open fields.  Predictably, every year, anyone with a camera is grabbing those spectacular shots of kids, grandkids, spouses, whoever they can catch standing still long enough:)  My talented photographer daughter-in-law Laura is no exception.  It was so much fun for Mamou to tag along this year.  Watching Laura in action with Ivy, Hazel and their BFF Aria was a rare treat.  I snuck in a few shots myself from my trusty iPhone; however nothing compared to Laura’s shots.  But then her new telephoto lens Tres gave her for her b~day cost more than 15 or so iPhones:)

Each year as Ash Wednesday nears,  I get out the puppy costume, the makeup, and the beads; because it’s time to party Galveston style.  Early this morning I found myself in Austin with the grandangels, and very little time to get dressed and make it to the parade:)  What an opportunity to show them what a “Mamou Puppy” looks like.  As they woke, they actually rubbed their eyes, thinking they were still dreaming.  Then, they wanted a puppy costume too.  Oh, and then a REAL puppy:)  Momma Laura wasn’t thrilled at that idea, but promised as soon as they were old enough to take care of it, they would consider it.  I’m afraid for now they will have to be content with Mamou’s pictures of the best parade of the year!  It’s the highlight of Mardi Gras for me, and this year was no exception.  As you can see, we were not limited to every breed of dog in existence; there were also ponies, cats, and even a human baby or two:)  My personal favorite was the bull terrier in a tutu, with the lab mermaid coming in a close second.  As we lined up to carry the banners, I found myself surrounded by Aggies in green t-shirts. I’m really a little more partial to UT, as Tres graduated with a BS and  Masters from the best school in Texas:)  I must admit, the TAMU students were a pleasure to march with, and I’m so glad to see we have a new crop of vets coming up soon.  The island can use them.

Can’t wait till next year.  The grandbabies promise to come as my “grandpuppies”.  Now that will be a sight!

 

The NASA I remember, while raising the boys just a mile from Johnson Space Center, was filled with engineers with PhD’s focusing on math and physics.  Of course, that is still true today, but with an added focus on the “whole brain”.  I love that!  First, to engage the young in the dream, using art and imaginative experiments to lure them:)  They have to want to study the hard things in the first place, or we will lose the battle for the best and brightest.   Learning to use a 3D printer to build a miniature of the shuttle, was a little miracle in itself.  Then, we built our own rockets, complete with combustible engines to lift off.  I was so proud when mine flew straight up for almost a football field before landing in the field nearby.  Who doesn’t get excited at the prospect of working beside a robot?  Especially one that is content to do the dirty work, like cleaning toilets:)  After spending 3 days soaking it all up, I am so excited for my children and grandchildren.  By the time Ivy and Hazel are my age, there will be a colony on Mars, don’t doubt it!  Who knows what else?

My Austin son married a science teacher, so I should have been prepared for a menagerie.  The good news is, the grandbabies will be animal lovers; the bad news is Mamou (that would be me) will be pet sitting for all species of furry, and some not so furry, beasts.  There is Cora the albino corn snake.  She is nonpoisonous, but still a little scary when it comes to feeding time:)  Penny is the resident chinchilla that Pork Pie, the ball chasing cat, loves to pester.  Then there are the cats, which are not too unusual with the exception of Pork Pie.  He comes to my door, ball in mouth, early each morning for a game of ball toss.  He will retrieve that ball as long as Mamou will throw it for him.  I guess that makes up for the cat allergies that always appear when I stay too long.  By the end of the week I was happy to get back to the fresh sea breezes, sans cat dander.  Breathing much better now!

During the November red fish run in the surf, I had some spectacular luck fishing the rocks right out in front of my little condo.  No one could believe that I simply walked a few yards from my front door and started to fill my freezer with such delicious seafood, least of all me.  Word started to spread among the locals.  It didn’t take long for our favorite pool guy at Diamond Beach, Bonito, to get wind of my unexpected success.  Bonito grew up in “the valley” (Harlingen).  No doubt there was neither time nor money for such extravagances as fishing rods and bait when he was a child.  He looked at me over the top of his pool equipment one day and said, “Miss Reeeta, please teach me how you do this.”  Who could turn down such a request?  On his next day off I met him out front on the rocks with some dead shrimp, an old pink and black rod I was going to donate, and a few red fish rigs.  He was a natural, casting that rig further out and with more precision than I ever could.  That was it; he was addicted.  Now every day Bonito has off, he is fishing.  When he caught something recently at the new 61st Street Park, he started texting me the pictures. “What are they Miss Reeeta?”  I hated to disappoint him, but he had to know the truth, they were little pinfish that most people use for bait:)  I could read the disappointment in his next text, “but Miss Reeeta, I can’t eat them?  I was so hungry for fish!”  Needless to say, at my insistence, he drove away from Diamond Beach that day with some nicely filleted and recently frozen redfish fillets from Miss Reeeta:)