A Neville returns...but still no butter
I spent most of the past four days standing in line at the only Walgreens open on the East bank. I was trying to refill my dog's prescription for separation anxiety medication, and first there was a long line, then when I returned and stood in the endless pickup line I discovered it hadn't been filled. So each day I went in the morning then returned in the afternoon. Finally I left on Friday...but with just six out of 28 capsules. Then I had to go back into the line and have it corrected. Etc. Today it was finally filled, but filed under "D" for dog, so it took a while for them to find it. Seriously.."D" for dog.
But this is typical of the odd inconveniences that we have to put up with in the "new" New Orleans. Another is that the grocery store is well stocked but without a single stick of butter. Why? No one knows.
This morning on Frenchmen Street I heard that a number of legendary establishments are struggling to hang on while the utility companies drag their feet with the gas lines. No one has a straight answer on when service will be reestablished, which means that even the restaurants that would like to open can't cook anything--unless they covert everything to electric. So the master plan continues--a slow death for all New Orleans culture that wasn't washed away in the storm. Or so it seems. I was feeling a little depressed by it all, but then I spotted a sign at Snug Harbor announcing that Charmaine Neville will be performing two free shows on Monday night.
Meanwhile, Sula ate three feet of leash the other night, right next to me in bed as I slept. She seemed fine though. Elated in fact. Then last night, around 4am, she started throwing it all up. A few small squares of nylon came up and out onto the floor, then another piece with a long thread leading down her throat. I tugged at it gently, hoping it would come freely. But it wouldn't. If I pulled too hard, it might pull up her intestines too. Yet she couldn't swallow it again either. We both began to panic. Finally I got a knife and sawed through the thread while she held her mouth open. Yes, this may be the most disgusting thing I've ever written on this blog. She rested for a while. Then threw up another length of leash. Hopefully that's the last of it. UGH.
But this is typical of the odd inconveniences that we have to put up with in the "new" New Orleans. Another is that the grocery store is well stocked but without a single stick of butter. Why? No one knows.
This morning on Frenchmen Street I heard that a number of legendary establishments are struggling to hang on while the utility companies drag their feet with the gas lines. No one has a straight answer on when service will be reestablished, which means that even the restaurants that would like to open can't cook anything--unless they covert everything to electric. So the master plan continues--a slow death for all New Orleans culture that wasn't washed away in the storm. Or so it seems. I was feeling a little depressed by it all, but then I spotted a sign at Snug Harbor announcing that Charmaine Neville will be performing two free shows on Monday night.
Meanwhile, Sula ate three feet of leash the other night, right next to me in bed as I slept. She seemed fine though. Elated in fact. Then last night, around 4am, she started throwing it all up. A few small squares of nylon came up and out onto the floor, then another piece with a long thread leading down her throat. I tugged at it gently, hoping it would come freely. But it wouldn't. If I pulled too hard, it might pull up her intestines too. Yet she couldn't swallow it again either. We both began to panic. Finally I got a knife and sawed through the thread while she held her mouth open. Yes, this may be the most disgusting thing I've ever written on this blog. She rested for a while. Then threw up another length of leash. Hopefully that's the last of it. UGH.
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