Road Trip

Hubby and I decided about noon on Saturday that we would go to Lafayette (a little over an hour away from us) and go to Barnes and Noble and then out to eat. We talked about getting a room since he could not leave until three or so, but I had seen on the internet some websites about bed and breakfast cabins you could rent and said I’d see if any of them were available. As it turned out, there were several that had openings and it came down to a choice of a cabin on Bayou Teche that was cheap-cheap or a cabin that was three times more but had a Jacuuzi. So the question was, do we go for scenery and thriftiness, or do we spurge on a silly old bathtub that makes bubbles? In the end, we chose to be economical. We brought books and our journals, planning to read and write and reflect. On the way out the door, hubby asks, “I wonder if they have a table and chairs to sit on?” (The cabin was a one bedroom cabin with no kitchen, it did have a bathroom, I asked that question.) I snorted and said “surely it does”.

Well. Turns out, the cabin was so small you could not cuss a cat without getting fur in your mouth. We were a little disappointed at first and thought about asking to switch the the only other empty cabin which was priced in line with the cabin at the other place (the one with the Jacuuzi). It had a fussy little bench seat inside the cabin and a stool at the antique vanity. On the porch there was a dainty little table with small chairs.

Strike 1: It was a homely little cabin.

Strike 2: It can’t be good news when the cheap plunger is right there in plain view, looking like it gets regular use.
Strike 2.5: I had no idea what these things were. The cabin was decorated with vintage women’s purses and hats but these things seemed not to fit the theme at all. I went to bed that night and prayed they would not come alive in the night and come to get in the bed with us. When we were getting ready to leave, I casually mentioned to my husband, “Hubby, I wonder what those things are”, and he reached over to touch them and pulled them loose from their perch (I knew he would!). Turns out it was a woman’s stole, a little fur collar thing. Whew.
In the end, we were satisfied with our choice. This was the view from our back porch.
Ducks.
Cypress trees.
This was out front, a remnant from the crawfish festival, no doubt. Breaux Bridge, where these cabins are located, calls itself the Crawfish Capital of the World.
This is one of those old-timey push mowers. We played around with these when I was a kid.
The handle of the mower is resting on a cypress knee.
Anybody know what this is?