It's been a long time since I posted something here. I would have written more often, but I have been busy installing solar panels, finishing the house, and having the greatest Jazzfest ever. So, although my original deadline of last year's Jazzfest came and went, I met this year's Jazzfest deadline. And was it a wonderful one at that. This is my father, surveying his realm on a morning during the first weekend of Jazzfest.
In the last few months, we got the entire house fully inspected, got the solar electric system turned on, finished some last finishing touches, and today, got the solar electric monitoring up and running. It can be viewed here:
Solar Electric Monitoring
In the last few months, I've been a part of installing the largest solar electric systems in Louisiana. It has kept me very busy, and in that time, I've also branched into attempting to teach solar installation at my alma mater, Yestermorrow. The first go-around was purportedly successful, and hopefully, I can make teaching a regular part of my schedule, in addition to installation.
As for some of the finishing touches to the house, we joined and installed the bamboo island countertop, sealed the Paperstone countertops in the kitchen, and installed a stained glass window in the front second story room, dubbed the "Tree of Life." The stairway is also looking splendid, as some last pieces of wood were installed to finish it out.
For a house warming party for myself and friends, I held a derby-inspired party, complete with fancy hats, suits, and mint-juleps. Although the night horse racing atmosphere was tempting, I'm not much on gambling, so I didn't place any bets on the ponies.
As for Jazzfest, when these holidays came around, I was going to have a full plate of guests, family, friends, and revelry. The first weekend, my parents, sisters, and aunt, arrived. Additionally, a filmmaker friend of mine from back in Illinois, and his girlfriend, stopped by. Together, we navigated the weekend, culminating with a rousing performance by the Boss:
Death to My Hometown--Bruce Springsteen, Jazzfest 2012
This song was particularly poignant to my friend, my sisters (pictured above dodging some of the sun and heat with their wonderful plastic bags filled with water hats--patent pending), and me. It carries a strong Irish-American melody, while detailing the sad state of small American towns, like ours. While our celebration in New Orleans was happening, we were also receiving news about the state of our hometown in Illinois. Businesses are closing, places we'd known as children are being bulldozed, our hometown is dying--just like in the song. As I culminate this process, strong feelings of returning home to help and rebuild, ones which I had when I returned to New Orleans after Katrina, come to mind and heart. I might have to act on those...
The next weekend, chaos and joy reigned. Not only was this house filled to the brim with family and friends, but my tiny shotgun next door was due to be inhabited by 4 people. These 4 brave souls, Solomon, Jerry, Jessica, and Claire, were Jazzfest newbies hailing from the Washington, D.C. area, and hopefully I was able to show them a good taste of New Orleans. Like a lot of my plans (or lack thereof), I held out that it would work, with the aplomb exhibited by Geoffrey Rush in Shakespeare in Love: "I don't know, it's a mystery!" In addition to the guests, I also had to conduct a crawfish boil in tandem with a party with our neighbors. This sounds wonderful in concept, yet terrifying if you have never actually done the cooking---which was my situation. In the days leading up to the boil, I enlisted the expertise and equipment of neighbors and friends. They assured me that it would be fine---I received a boiling pot from the owners of Finn McCool's, two recipes from Cajun friends, and the help of architect (another architect!) and cajun friend, Tim Dumatrait. While I started the boil and was able to get everything set up logistically, it was only when Tim showed up on the scene when the boil became a masterpiece of cajun country cooking. We started washing and purging the crawfish in kiddie pools around 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and starting boiling at 6. There was a worry that we would run out of propane for the burner, so I jumped into my truck to go purchase another tank. I returned as the Festival was closing for the day, when thousands of people were exiting my neighborhood on foot, making navigation almost impossible. With hazard lights, a careful foot on the brake, and saying "Sorry, excuse me, I live here, sorry..." I waded the truck through the sea of people back to the house. The crawfish started coming out in small batches around 8, and didn't stop until midnight.
Through the chaos and eating, we made lots of friends, received high compliments from guests, and as the night ended, even had several sing-a-longs with neighbors. Our rendition of "You've Lost that Lovin' Feelin'" was a crowd favorite, but some of our neighbors might have been a little perturbed at our soulful serenading. Oh well, it's Jazzfest, you gotta sing and dance!
To all those who have read this blog and watched our progress, thank you dearly and I hope it has been fun and entertaining. I lived a dream over the last year and a half, full of ups and downs, but the result is also that with this home, and the people who have helped it become reality, our dreams came true. From the bottom of my full heart, thank you.
