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June 12, 2026
The Patron Saint of Lost Causes
Well, cher, we're on our way to Paris — by way of a three-day stopover in New York City. But before I talk about New York, you have to hear about the flight up here.
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June 5, 2026
The Mouse
Walt Disney came on my television last night, and the first thing in my head was his cough — the cough he tried to hide from the world. I kept thinking about a Mardi Gras morning in 1959, and a mouse drawn for my sister.
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May 28, 2026
Three Times No
School let out in New Orleans last week. Once school is out, Rose and Josiah don't call ahead. Phillip — their father, Celeste's ex-husband — always calls ahead. I could set my clocks to it, it's that precise.
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May 21, 2026
All That Worry For Nothing
My daddy used to say: if you want to make God laugh, make a plan. God must have been laughing fit to burst today.
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May 16, 2026
What The Phoque
My great-grandmother Marguerite arrived in New Orleans around 1960, when she was about eighty years old, and immediately began disapproving of things. Well. That may be a slight understatement.
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May 7, 2026
There Was No Choice
Gladys is lying next to me on the porch right now. She's got some Boston Terrier in her, though what else the Lord put in there we never did determine. A little of this, a little of that, and heavens, there is a lot of lazy in that dog.
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April 28, 2026
Pull Up a Chair
My name is Eula. Miss Eula, if you're being polite — and in New Orleans, most people are, or at least to your face they are. I've got a porch and a glass of sweet tea and more stories than I know what to do with.
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Stay on the porch a while.
New essays, every week. No noise. Just Miss Eula.