Wheel of Fortune

Home just in time for Jeopardy.

Denny and I watch Wheel of Fortune most evenings.  We are comfortable together with our novels in hand.  The current book we are reading varies, and sometimes we share a little portion or a clever idea one of us has discovered in our book.  We choose different genres and authors but appreciate what the other spouse is reading.  We can easily read and watch Wheel of Fortune simultaneously.

When the granddaughters pop in at this time, they watch too.  We all guess at the answers and clap and squeal when our selected contestant is winning.  I am sure they will always remember their grandparents watching this and Jeopardy.  They seem as interested as we.  It is a time marker of the day ending and evening beginning.  It is a shared activity, and it is a reason to sit and share our knowledge or lack of.  Son John sometimes comes in about this time and watches and guesses answers with us. We trained John and Adam to watch Jeopardy with us when they were young.  The boys became quite competitive at shouting their answers.

Sometimes my mind wanders and wonders what life would be like without Wheel of Fortune.  Would it be a Wheel of Emotion spinning constantly with the ups and downs of life? I remember when Den’s dad passed away; we came home and watched Wheel of Fortune.  We were numb but this created some “normal” for us.  Our emotions were suppressed and put on hold while we watched the familiar game format.

Reading becomes the balancing board as we peer over our glasses at difficult questions on Jeopardy.  The contestants are not unreasonable individuals or even peculiar.  They are citizens, regular people like we see in the grocery.  My mind rests, my body relaxes, and I acknowledge that evening is here.  No wheels of emotion.  Simply living life and marking time.

Wednesday on Julia Street

Art Galleries

Learning

from others is a most significant use of time.  Creativity is contagious .

Wednesday, as I walked down Julia Street, I popped into 15 private galleries. The spaces were large and deep.  I marveled at the small studio rooms within the large ones filled with three dimensional art and new artists’ works.  Artist installations were dramatic, mostly contemporary work.  I entered one after another and talked to the gallery person in charge and learned so much.  The gallery keepers were so proud of New Orleans, her talent, her ability to spring back after Katrina, and Mardi Gras traditions.  Visiting here for about the tenth time, I still found unturned treasures, new creative ideas, and historical facts for my memoir about the Big Easy. No city compares to New Orleans focus on merriment, love of the arts, classy antique stores, Cajun and Creole food, and historical architecture.  I never tire of driving down St. Charles Street and looking at the well-kept antebellum mansions.  It is a picturesque town with warm and friendly people.  I feel like a child grasping and learning all the things I can in a short time.  Even ten days is too short of a stay in New Orleans.