Knights of Babylon

It's Carnival down here in New Orleans, Lithus' and my first. Back when I lived in Massachusetts, it got to the point that I avoided Salem in October. Just wouldn't go. I can see getting to that place with NOLA in February. Just get the hell out of Dodge and leave it to the tourists and the Krewes. But this first year? This first year, I'm nowhere close to that.

Lithus and I have been lucky enough to be doing things like going to the grcoery store and SURPRISE! There's a parade. Or coming back from a doctor's appointment and *poof* there's another parade. Although, I admit, when the brass band stopped outside our bedroom window at 8:30 one morning, my first words were indeed "What The Fuck is that????" and I was weak for a moment. But I pulled the blankets up over my head and went back to sleep, and all was well.

However, last night, we decided to actually attend a parade intentionally. We ended up just a few blocks from our place, at the Knights of Babylon parade. According to the Mardi Gras website, the Knight of Babylon are:

Founded in 1939, the Knights of Babylon have proudly kept their traditional float designs, which remain unchanged after more than 70 years. Each float in the Knights of Babylon parade is a chapter in the story being told. The krewe consists of more than 200 knights. Their king, or Sargon, takes his title from the legendary Babylonian ruler, and the current king's identity is never revealed to the public.

Which sounds incredibly formal for what looked like this:

Souvenir stalls get pulled up and down the street. They are as brightly colored as anything the parades have to offer.

The parade started off with Knight of Babylon's jester:

Then got rolling with the Marine Corps band. We all cheered until you could hardly hear them play. There was a delay right in front of us, so the guys on horns broke away and jammed on their own for a bit. They were being followed by a high school band and headed down. It was good natured and fun, but the high school band got schooled. Bless their hearts, they knew it, too.

And the parade starts back up again

From then on out, it was just floats and music and beads and revelry...

The Navy made an appearance, too

My favorite float

Yep, I managed to attend the parade based mostly on classic literature, with a specific focus on the Bard, himself. You can't tell me there isn't a certain amount of magic during Mardi Gras...

Then This Happened...

First, Lithus is fine. His instincts are good.

However! Last week, he saw something (he could tell you what and he told me, but I don't understand it enough to tell you) that made him ask J, the mechanic (a good guy, very qualified, very solid), to check out the tail boom attachment. J looked it over that night and said it was fine. The next morning, though, Lithus still felt uncomfortable, so checked it himself and couldn't find anything. So, he had J look inside again. Still nothing. But Lithus looked inside himself again. Yep. Tail boom attachment was broken. This is a nonsurvivable situation from the air. Had he gotten up, which he could have in spite of this, he would've died that day.

We pretend that what he does isn't dangerous. And the vast majority of the time, we succeed in forgetting. Then, something like this happens. It's good to be lucky. It's better to be skilled. It's best to be both.

Where I've Been

Good Grief, but it's been a very long time since I posted. Far too long. But I've been wonderfully busy.

Winter came to Coolin, Idaho and Priest Lake:

So we headed out from here:

To Canada, to visit with Lithus' family. The visit itself was lovely. The drive back to the US was technically, lovely, but a little more harrowing.

There really is road under there

See? Technically lovely.

But we made it, in spite of ourselves and the weather. To the new gig, with the new company

With a stop in Leavenworth, Washington, first:

Doesn't the whole place look like Santa threw up on it, in the very best way???? Yeah, I fell a little in love with Leavenworth. Apparently, Octoberfest is even better. Road trip in the future!

And then Christmas in Nevada and CaliforniaAnd now the adventure continues in Colville, Washington, because this is the last place we expected to be. Ain't it great?

Back On Even Keel

Because when the carnivale is good, it is very, very good. There was a newborn son to celebrate. A 4th birthday, a 6th birthday, and a 42nd birthday. There was a guy going home for the winter. A final sigh needed. And it's behind us. Because this is who we are. This is what it means to be part of the carnivale.

Prepping for carne asade, 2 types of chili rellenos, and 3 types of salsa

The chef and proud papa, number 1.

Official pinata hanger and proud papa, number 2.

The 4 year old gets a swing at the pinata

The 6 year old gets a swing at the pinata.

And the pilot gets a swing at the pinata!

The 42 year old birthday "girl" with her (very unexpected) gifts from the crew: flowers; a pink, moosey sweatshirt; and the Lord Of The Rings trilogy

No, it isn't always a good time...but it usually is, and it's always worth it.

When The Carnivale Goes Bad

Something about being a part of a logging crew is that you are a part of a community. It's a carnival because everybody moves from place to place. We set up, we take over our little corner. We socialize together, we eat together, we pretty much keep to ourselves. That's the background...

We had a truck driver, JA. JA was in the cabin next to us. The three of us have exchanged pleasantries across the porches, as we cooked on our respective grills. He's come over a couple of times. We've met in the parking lot and shot the shit. We've had cocktails. He was the truck driver.

Honestly, I knew I was going to have to have the "JA, you went too far with that one" conversation that I frequently have to have with good ol' boys who haven't quite caught on that there's a difference between being able to take a joke and enjoying being harrassed. The one time he came over when Lithus wasn't home, he and I stood in the doorway of the cabin because...I just didn't let him in or invite him to take a seat. The other day, when there was a knock on the door and I had taken off my blazer, so was just in a fitted camisole, I almost went to get my jacket again because I didn't want to deal. Instead, I decided that I was willing to have the conversation now if needbe. It wasn't JA; it was Lithus, home early. I laughed and said "I was worried about answering the door like this in case it was JA. Glad it was you."

Only Lithus was home with a story. JA won't be around any longer. He's in jail for rape. Saw a 17 year old girl walking down the street, called her over, got her so drunk she couldn't respond, and raped her. When housekeeping at the hotel found her the next morning, she was so drunk she still didn't know where she was or what had happened. The hotel staff called the police, because it was so obvious something so bad had happened here. Rape, statutory rape, contributing to a minor, and contributing with intent to rape. The judge has already looked at him and said "I don't know what it's like where you come from, but we don't put up with this kind of thing here."

Full disclosure: I am one to believe an accuser. The victim of sexual assault or rape gets my benefit of the doubt. Do I know women cry rape or assault when there wasn't one? Yes. Honestly, I know someone who has done just that ~ twice. I still believe the victim first. That being said...there are witnesses. There is DNA. There are his lies that were disproved ~ or proved to be lies, however you choose to look at it ~ within moments of them coming out of his mouth. He did this thing. Even his wife knows he is guilty, based on the evidence.

For us, our little band in our little carnivale, we are shaken. I am pleased to say, though, that we are not looking at each other suspiciously. Instead, we have, over the course of the last few days, found ways to say "I will not hurt you or your children or the people you love. I will not betray your trust in this way. I will not bring this to your door. I am not like him." And we have believed each other. We are finding our even keel again.

But it's not always a good time.

Summer, By The Numbers

Yesterday, Lithus and I moved again. Luckily, this time it was just across the parking lot from one cabin to another, so we didn't have to pack as tightly as if we were flying but nonetheless ~ everything has to get packed up and moved. Which got us thinking about how many times we've had to pack up and move this summer. Starting in May...

1. Anchorage to Fairbanks apartment
2. Fairbanks apartment to Fairbanks hotel
3. Fairbanks hotel to Manley Hot Springs
4. Manley Hot Springs to Fairbanks hotel
5. Fairbanks hotel to Anchorage apartment
6. Anchorage to Portland
7. Portland to Nevada
8. Nevada to Sacramento
9. Sacramento to Tuscon
10. Tuscon to Alamagordo hotel one
11. Alamagordo hotel one to Alamagordo hotel two
12. Alamagordo hotel two to Tuscon
13. Tuscon to New Orleans hotel
14. New Orleans hotel to Sandpoint
15. Sandpoint to Priest Lake hotel, room one
16. Priest Lake, room one to Priest Lake, room two
17. Room two to New Orleans hotel
18. New Orleans hotel to New Orleans apartment
19. New Orleans apartment to Priest Lake hotel, room one
20. Priest Lake hotel, room one to Priest Lake cabin one
21. Priest Lake cabin one to Priest Lake cabin two.

Which brings us current. This doesn't include the numerous times we spent a night or two away from base, but didn't have to lug everything with us. We don't unpack often. This time, though, here in Priest Lake cabin two, we are scheduled to be here through October. That's six whole weeks. Possibly eight. We are saying radical things like "we might unpack" and "want to buy a Halloween decoration?" I know; we're getting crazy. Still...six whole weeks...

But It Can Also Be Done This Way...

My last post was about how Lithus and I celebrated Southern Decadence. But that was hardly the only way to celebrate it. We had to run to the grocery store and ended up attending the Southern Decadence Parade. You gotta love a town where a trip to the grocery store results in this...