canceling christmas

As I was in the kitchen this evening using up the final remains of the Thanksgiving turkey to make a turkey salad, the kind of turkey salad I remember eating pressed between crustless white bread cut into halves at showers or weddings or special events when I was a kid, the turkey salad with the turkey, celery, and onion cut so fine that it's almost minced . . . I began to reminisce just a little, which jogged my memory that Mr. Duncan mentioned he heard this spot on NPR:

 


Um, well, of course I know Phillip Creel (a local teacher from another generation), and, yes, I've been to the bonfire on the levee in front of Phillip Creel's house at one time or another.  He lives right on the River Road, about a mile or so away from where my brother's family has settled.   Since leaving my hometown, I do find myself very unsure of what to do on Christmas Eve; I usually insist that we cook up a pot of chicken and andouille gumbo, but, quite frankly, nothing ever seems right.  Ever.  Every year I spend some time fantasizing about the events on the levee in Paulina, Lutcher, and Gramercy when the evening arrives.  Longing.

If the bonfires are banned, it would be like canceling Christmas in this area.  What a pity!

You can read a bit more about the tradition here.

PS.  Yes, they do talk like that.  All of them.  I do not, anymore. Except when I'm upset & then I sound just like them. :)