I'm fine, how are Roux?

OK, so I make my own crazy sometimes.

Last night we drove to Lafayette, which, though it is the one in Indiana and not Acadiana, has a really nice New Orleans style restaurant and music hall. I had a really great shrimp po-boy, Michael had a brisket po-boy, and even Sabine ate the hush peppers, bell peppers and cajun seasoning mixed in cornmeal and deep-fried. MMM.

This morning I talked to my grandmother on the phone for an hour before my cordless phone decided it'd had enough and died in the middle of an important conversation about politics. (Yes, with my grandmother -- we were comparing how much we think Palin is a bad mommy in addition to a bad person. My grandmother is hardcore democrat.)

I gave up on the phone (when the rechargeable battery dies it takes at least 5 minutes before the phone will work again), and gathered up my kidlings, my knitting, snacks, toys, and everything imaginable except the stroller (this is important later), and trekked to church for the once a month knitting get-together where we knitted with a guilty glee while some of our number toiled outside in the hot mugginess to clean up the grounds and others of our group toiled with the new members orientation. Arabella announced she was going to knit, then that this was all boring before one new knitter arrived with her 4 year old and the two set off on some wild adventures on the grounds (remember, we know all the people outside raking and pruning and such, and we periodically checked on their whereabouts). This was possibly the most popular knitting day Arabella has ever known, and I think I will have little trouble getting her to go again. At noon I gathered up stuff again and we set off.

We went to the French Market, a once a year event celebrating all things French-ish. Arabella had a hot dog and Cheetos, I had crawfish etoufee (French-ish, see?) from Yats and we shared a Chocolate Mousse. My step-father makes the most decadent and amazing Mousse au Chocolat. This was not it. I knew this was not going to be it when the lady spooned whipped cream on top of it. It was OK, and chocolaty enough, but I think I'd rather just get more etoufee next time. Arabella wanted to go on the space jump. It was hot and muggy, and I was carrying a huge purse with wallet, phone, keys, bottled water, diapers and wipes, etc, etc, and a nearly 20 pound baby (see, should have brought the stroller!), and I nearly fainted before we got back to the van and headed to Broad Ripple to drop off the knitted mug to its new owner.

The good news was that as there was a crowd of Ravelry-ites knitting at the Broad Ripple Knit Shop, many people saw the mug and liked it and I now have a list of knitters who want mugs of their own. So I guess I had better get back in the studio ...

We get home and Micahel gets home and i ask him what he wants for dinner, and he asks what it is possible for me to make. I started off with "jambalaya ..." and Arabella leaped up and danced around saying "yes! Jambalaya, that's my favorite!" Never mind that aside from breakfast I have eaten nothing but Louisiana cuisine in the past 24 hours (shrimp po-boy, crawfish etoufee, now jambalaya), we're having jambalaya. Is there such a thing as Roux overdose?