Flower mystery

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There's an amazing flowering plant just around the corner from my house. I see it every morning when I walk the dog. It's growing at my neighbor's gate, flanking the opening.

When the buds first appeared, in late September, they were intriguingly weird looking. Pale, green-white ovoids, like blind fish or spermatazoa, on curving tail-like stems, growing in tiers around the tall stems.

As the buds open, they become small florets, five petals swept backwards, almost as cyclamen flowers' petals, with long delicate stamens springing from the centers, like wires. The flowers are about the size of a penny. The petals open pale cream, like soft kidskin, and age a yellower cream. The stamens are tinged with pinky-red, with dark, purply anthers.

The flowering lasts a full month, and now, as the flowers are spent, they leave behind green bracts which flush a bright red, making this plant give double-duty in the beauty department:

I asked my neighbor what it was called, and he couldn't remember the botanical name. He said the person who gave him the seeds had two common names for it. By the time I got home, I couldn't remember the first name, but the other was "rocket-flower." Unfortunately, "rocket-flower"is as common as dirt, so when I search, I get a million hits, mostly for liatris.

I cannot identify this plant and need your help!

Here are two photos of its growth habit. You can see how tall it gets.

It is probably a herbaceous perennial or biennial, I think. It grows in tall spikes, the tallest spikes soar way overhead up to 12 feet or higher. The stems are thick and strong, though not woody. Large, green lanceolate leaves alternate around the stem.

What do you say, Southern gardeners? Can anyone tell me the name of this plant?

All Dem Saints

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Today, November 1, is All Saint's Day.  I read somewhere - and I can't find it now - that the traditional celebrations of All Saints Day and All Soul's Day, which takes place on November 2, first occurred on the North American continent in New Orleans, one of the New World's oldest cities.

In L.A. and Mexico they use marigolds. In New Orleans, chrysanthemums

Like people in Mexico and Central America, on All Saint's Day, New Orleanians traditionally clean and tend their ancestors' graves, whitewashing the tombs and adorning them with flowers. After Mass at the church, the priests come to the cemetery to bless the graves and wish the inhabitants peace.

All Hallows

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It's Saturday morning. Tonight is All Hallow's Eve. At St. Roch Cemetery, people are tidying their family tombs for blessing celebrations Sunday.

It's supposed to rain cats and dogs tonight.  Trick-or-treaters were out last night, though none came to our block. What will we do with all those Reese's peanut butter cups?

Work-out class

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 Yesterday dem Saints beat da Colts, in a nail-biter. We came by our neighborhood watering hole, Vaughans Lounge, after halftime. The faithful were assembled, and were rewarded for their devotion with victory. The fans wore their talisman garb of Saints jerseys, and one avid fan wore a black and gold glitter adorned matador costume.

There was alcohol, of course - it's a barroom, after all. There was crockpot chili for those who wanted it. There were dogs wearing football backpacks. It all served to secure the win.

Yes, dogs wearing football backpacks

When the game was over, folks started to disband, but Beth, the bartender nudged us. "Stick around a minute," she said. "Check this out."

This is the ritual performed after the victory. It struck me a a kind of work-out class for New Orleans ladies of a certain age.

Lake break

We are on the western shore of Lake Ponchartrain, having just gorged ourselves on the sweetest crabs and shrimp I've ever eaten. 

There's a storm brewing this weekend. Stay safe and dry.

Fright night

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New Orleanians love Halloween. I've had people here tell me they enjoy Halloween more than Mardi Gras. Everywhere you go there are spookily decorated houses, like this stately house in the Garden District bearing the spectre of death.

Or this French Quarter beauty sporting ghosts and giant spiders.

Down here in the Bywater, with its artists and hipsters, Halloween decor is a little edgier, like this house on Piety Street with a (fake) stuffed deer hanging on the porch, and skulls impaled on the agave.

But over on Burgundy Street, there's a Halloween house that's truly spectacular:

Behold the Scary Clown Halloween House!

 A skeleton wearing Crocs. How creepy is that?

Hope they give out Snickers!

The walk home

Walking home from Vaughan's Lounge tonight, after an evening glass of wine. It's October, and fall is in the air; there's a coolness at morning and evening. People in New Orleans love Halloween, and houses are decorated with spooky trimmings, anticipating the festivities.

That's not the moon in the sky, it's a streetlight. Although the moon, a crescent tonight, might look similarly romantic.

We wander home, where dinner awaits, and school tomorrow.

Dancing in the Streets

 A second line parade is a uniquely New Orleans experience. I'm not sure anything like it exists elsewhere. One occasion for a parade is to close out a celebration, whether a solemn funeral or a joyous wedding, when, after the ceremony musicians and revelers alike pour out into the street. Another equally common occasion is the annual celebration of one of the many Social Aid and Pleasure Clubs, or Benevolent Organizations formed in local communities.

This Saturday was the second line of the Black Men of Labor. It convened at Sweet Lorraine's bar on St. Claude Avenue. We got there at the beginning, when the group was posing for photos in front of a huge backdrop. Dressed all in matching festive attire, the group was in fine form.

Boulevardier

When you've decided to color your hair purple, you deserve a good cocktail.

A boulevardier is similar to a negroni, in that it's made with Campari, that bitter-sweet Italian digestif of infused herbs. In a boulevardier, the negroni's gin is replaced with bourbon - it's a mix of sweet vermouth, campari and bourbon.

This boulevardier was served to me at the Sazerac Bar in the Roosevelt Hotel in downtown New Orleans - the home of the American cocktail. It's a tasty thing, and affirms one's reckless fashion decisions!