Welcome to the new day, my brave new world..
Here’s what it is, the parts that make up a scattered
whole, a new shoot, a tender tendril pushing up
into the cold air and light dappled and strange.
A conglomeration of blessings, of benedictions,
what I can only see as rewards for
coming strong through slaughter.
Piecing together the days,
the lost and moldy bits of my past,
my wonderful new home where I
am finally so much at peace,
no longer waking gasping in fear
or stalking from room to room
clutching a butcher’s knife.

My deepest thanks to everyone who
has responded to this crisis with so
much love and sweetness and help.
I’ve received many incredible parcels
from beloved strangers and friends,
delivered by an increasingly
bewildered and amused postman.
They have warmed and comforted
and cheered me immeasurably
and made my little witch-shack
feel truly like a home.
Your kindnesses and generosity
has made an enormous difference-
Thank you.
I will soonly get to send each
and every one of you a more personal
note, but for now- know that
I adore you all.

The fact of Fall, in all her autumnal glory-
my favorite and most productive time of year
has made the wearying process of re-settling
a little easier. I still have boxes piled up on
the porch full of things waiting to be discovered
and swabbed down with anti-fungal concoctions.
I was horribly ill for a few weeks after my
return from the mouth of madness that was
my prior manse- luckily, I’m a bit better now
and don’t think I will go in
for scary x-rays of my chest cavity
at the doctor’s emphatic behest.

So, here’s a little bit of all the new
good things in my world,
so much I have to be thankful for:
♥ mysterious and lovely packages!
♥ tea-time! genmaicha, fancy jasmine,
♥ kousmichoff with ginger sugar and almond honey!
♥ halloweenie time!


♥ princess pumpkin and her gourd pals
(I still haven’t figured out who left them on my doorstep..)
♥ Peerless Screw Worm Killer! It survived too!


♥ my first trick-or-treaters, Molly and Eliza,
my wee sweet cousins- adorable tinies!
You will die from cuteness now, yes?


♥ my Ginger Gretel costume miraculously coming together
(despite all odds!) My dirndl survived the hurricane,
but you can’t see it so well there.
♥ I made gingerbread shoes!
♥ Mer and Patience sent the perfect icing jacket!


♥ salvaged treasures sunning on the stoop!


♥ big spooky-ass spiders coming for a visit!



♥ Bix Beiderbecke and the Wedding Cake
Who Fought Back! Sweet lovelies B + K, oh!


♥ Geishas ride the Gratitude Train!


♥ Bosch + Bug + Plague Doctor + Unicorn
+ Monkeybird + Blacksmith = ♥


♥ I can bite and gnaw!


♥ gingerbread owls!


♥ This squash suspended from vines tangled
in my chinese tallow tree- now there are more..
Harvest!


♥ Annathema, Swinelet, Weepig, and Granny Wolf
(thank you mystery benefactress who sent her!)


♥ the long-coveted kitchen table made by my Grampy,
with Gypsy Curiosa roses, pomegranate, amaretti biscuits,
fox-mask (from ), one sock-garter, lolly, treatses..


♥ I’ve discovered that buying myself roses makes me
feel less destitute. These are my favorites, Blue Curiosa-
but we call them Dead Baby Girls, because that’s
what they look like. At $10 for 2 dozen how could I resist?


♥ this incredible book that was my mother’s-
my Aunt Ruth brought it to me, along with many other
precious treasures, soon to be shown! I swoon.


♥ my amazing ride, gifted to me upon my arrival
by Aubrey and Kaia. Please to note stars in sprocket.


♥ and most of all, this little gingerbread man.
His name is Rusty Jacknife, and I ♥ him a lot.
He’s sprawled on my great-grandmother’s quilt.
Behold the miracle.


♥ He’s another treasure my Aunt brought me, a rescue
from the animal shelter. I thought I would wait a long time
before getting another feline friend, but living alone in
a new and scary situation called for company of
the furry persuasion. He’s fiesty and gorgeous,
with stripes and polka-dots and lizard-amber eyes.
Pumpkin-muffinhead-gattamelata-sweetness.

♥ and musing on Dia de Los Muertos.

♥ gratuitous over-use of the ♥, hah!

The trip back to New Orleans was
a series of strange revelations-
(or something from the book of..)
Driving with my uncle, towing the trailer,
hunched in the corner of the truck, a ball of worry.
We took the scenic route, though little towns
with names like Cut-and-Shoot and Whiskey Bay,
making our way towards the place I once called home
to see what we could find.
On auto-pilot sometime before midnight
I directed us through Slidell
(to avoid non-existent traffic in the CBD?)
pitch blackness greeted us, military convoy
following behind, abandoned cars,
high muddy waterlines, all silent- ghostly.
My knees were literally quaking as we pulled
off of Elysian Fields onto my street,
no one around..
The next morning I took my sweet time,
deep breathing through another cigarette,
another cup of coffee, locating my respirator,
my gloves, my camphor.
I’ve never been so scared in all my life.


It looks not so bad from the outside, eh?

By the time I was ready to pick my way through
the rubble up the stairs, just to look and photograph
first- I had already accepted whatever destruction
lay behind the door. In a way, it was almost
fascinating- to see a house taken apart like that..




Myrtle was right- it was like stepping into Bosnia..


That light fixture used to hang a good deal higher.
I kept hitting my head on it while trying to navigate the room.


I suppose that if you didn’t really know what it looked like
before, that this might look kind of neat-
some abandoned madman’s house, perhaps.
It looks like Ed Gein should live there, no?


Our kitchen was once quite tidy.
Many cakes were baked there.






Santa Barbara and todos los santos fared not so well.


I had written off the mummified cat as too moldy-
but ended up bringing it back anyway..
Maybe it can be cleaned up and salvaged.


Pandory’s room fairly intact and still lovely..
Note the sagging paint on the wall..


Formerly my vanity- trashed and thrashed..


But how did this corner end up untouched?
A fucking miracle, truly.
Considering how much damage
had been done (85-90 % of the ceiling gone)
and how much water had come in.
It was stank-nasty up in that joint-
my lovely pillows blooming with spores,
every shoe dripping green furry stalactites of mold.
Anything leather, pretty much all furniture,
electronics, appliances, et cetera had be be tossed.
I left so much behind me.
I never imagined I would be throwing beloved
treasures into a garbage bag with hunks of
rotty molding plaster and.. Smiling?
Because the really priceless things,
the really special things were mostly okay.
The teapots and teacups are soaking in bleachwater.
The quilt is being laundered.
The books? Mostly fine!
Though Black Lamb, Grey Falcon
and House of Leaves were notable casualties.
Hanging things out to dry in the sun.
I have a lot less now,
and I think it must be good.
Most of it is sitting on my front porch
in cardboard boxes, because I’m afraid
to bring it in until each little thing
has been wiped down. Egads.


Once beloved frocks and such-
now refuse and rubbish!
And dismembered balcony railing.


Saint Snow White was hit pretty hard,
but I think she can be repaired.
La Belle Dame Nouvelle Orleans
is somehow also still alive-
still jasmine wreathed and redolent
in all sorts of ways- (some make you retch!)
she can still open you up like a flower..
Green parakeets and flowers blooming.
In the end, I was almost jubilant-
the kind of elation you get from
coming triumphant through trial,
from staring down your worst fear
and emerging stronger for it.
It broke my heart to leave.
I was happier than I had been in months,
just to be home, to see my neighbors,
my friends- tough and beautiful and alive!
To ride my bicycle through the streets, oh!
The city is slowly coming back,
in fits and starts- but it won’t ever
be the same, sadly.
Someday I’ll be back there.