My Slithery Slimey Blog

My 13th "Follower."

Somebody had to come along, after I had amassed 12 followers and cast aside their superstitions to become the 13th follower of this blog.

And, it was none other than Wendy C. Allen, a writer, illustrator and doll maker, amongst other things from Maine.

Her biography is quite voluminous; but after a quick perusal, I was able to glean that she, who uses the alias EelKat, is "drawn to eels."

In fact, if the photo to the left doesn't depict a lady who has been waiting in the forest and is just having the realization set in that she has been stood up by an eel; then I guess I have
lost my touch.

Friday, 21

57 | 39 °F

Clear

Chance of
Precipitation

0%

Cold and windy night

Last night; the weather was the main attention grabber; as winds of up to 30 miles per hour were gusting through the French Quarter.

At one point I was walking down Canal Street and looking across to where a trumpet player was playing on the other side, I saw the box which he uses to collect tips, overturn and start to tumble down the sidewalk.

A single bill flew out of it and began an erratic flight across the street in my general direction. I tried to coral it so that I could return it to him, but it was racing at about 30 miles per hour, swirling and spinning like Barry Sanders and soon had disappeared around a corner.
Little Jack Horner
...stands on a corner...

Trumpet guy does very well on that spot and his horn can be heard for a quarter mile around him. He plays very slowly and very accurately; hitting notes perfectly and holding a lot of them for emphasis. The Godfather Theme seems to be one of his favorites. 

He empties out his cardboard box, when it is about a quarter full and pockets the 35? dollars or so, then continues to play for about 5 hours. 

He said that his busking "pays my bills" -bills to include an apartment, cable TV and other such things which some people can afford. I don't think he was trying to toot his own horn when he told me that.

Cold Makes Things Worse
I have had a cold for the past few days. I almost bought some aspirin Wednesday morning, but didn't.
Last night, I played for a brief period of time, but couldn't put any seed money in my case because of the high winds.
I found 3 unopened cans of Coors Light beer, sitting on a granite ledge by the Insectarium on my way to the ferry, after calling it a night pretty early. That allowed me to save the 3 dollars which is about all that blew my way that evening.
I put on all of the shirts that I could pull out of my pack donned in the order of tank tops first, followed by the smaller tee shirts; then the larger ones, over-wrapped with the two button up flannel shirts that the Lidgleys sent; and topped off with my hoodie. I then wrapped up in the two fleece blankets; and had a fitful night of sleep; with the temperature probably hitting the forecast low of 37 degrees; and myself having to wake up to blow my nose every hour or so it seemed.