new orleans books

Two bits of good news:

1) I slept better last night than I did for days. I feel like I’m starting to maybe be able to move my arm despite the constant burning and ache from the shingles.

2) I figured out how the second character for Co-pilot conspirators is going to go. Hoping to crank it out much more quickly.

NG S6 Ness Rambles

I finally have the time to binge-watch New Girl Season 6 again, and maybe I can write some reaction about Nick and Jess (because I miss writing about them).

1. House Hunt

Season 5 ended with Dr. Sam making Jess realize that she’s still in love with Nick even though she doesn’t realize it.

But then, Reagan comes into the picture and whisked Nick away from her again.

Instead of doing something about her newly-realized feelings, she tried to distract herself. But then, Nick returns to the loft earlier than expected because he was excited to show Jess that he finished writing his book - The Pepperwood Chronicles - and it was because of Jess. He even dedicated the book to her “for all they’ve been through”.

Just look at them. Nick saluted Jess because, let’s face it, if it weren’t because of her, Nick wouldn’t have the drive to finish the book. Winston once commented that Nick wasn’t a finisher, and maybe Nick wanted to prove to Jess that he can actually accomplish something. Remember in Quick Hardening Caulk, Jess told Nick that it turns her on when she sees Nick actually trying at something. This time, Nick doesn’t only try, he finishes writing the book.

I love the thought of Nick devoting most of his time in New Orleans writing a book (and probably thinking about Jess because - hello, Jessica Night IS Jessica Day) instead of spending quality time with Reagan. No wonder their relationship is too volatile.

Look at this hug. I can feel all the longing on both sides after not seeing each other for a month.

“Get in here. Give me a hug.”

“Look at you, you got jacked.” - because Nick Miller knows Jess’ body and he knows what changed in the 4 weeks he hasn’t seen or touched her.

“I need some Jess.” Oh Nick Miller. You love her so much.

To see and hear Jess acknowledge that she still loves Nick but she couldn’t do anything about it is heart-breaking.


Happy Miniature Monday!

Sometimes our Mini-Books have surprising features!  Here we have “The Last Two Swallows,” a souvenir from New Orleans.  Inside are two tiny glass bottles, one labeled “Brandy” and the other “Scotch,”complete with diminutive tumblers on top!  I imagine these once had liquor inside them, but it has apparently evaporated over time, since the corks on the bottles look relatively undisturbed.  This would probably be a good book to have on hand in case of emergency!  This delightful artifact was made in Germany. 

The Last Two Swallows: Souvenir of New Orleans.  Germany, date unknown.  The Charlotte Smith Miniature Collection.

See all our Miniature Monday posts here.  

-Laura H. 

There are some towns in the multiverse which think they know how to have a good time. Places like New Orleans and Rio reckon they not only know how to push the boat out but set fire to the harbor as well; but compared to Ankh-Morpork with its hair down they’re a Welsh village at 2 p.m. on a wet Sunday afternoon.
—  Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett
The first thing you notice about New Orleans are the burying grounds - the cemeteries - and they’re a cold proposition, one of the best things there are here. Going by, you try to be as quiet as possible, better to let them sleep. Greek, Roman, sepulchres- palatial mausoleums made to order, phantomesque, signs and symbols of hidden decay - ghosts of women and men who have sinned and who’ve died and are now living in tombs. The past doesn’t pass away so quickly here. You could be dead for a long time.
The ghosts race towards the light, you can almost hear the heavy breathing spirits, all determined to get somewhere. New Orleans, unlike a lot of those places you go back to and that don’t have the magic anymore, still has got it. Night can swallow you up, yet none of it touches you. Around any corner, there’s a promise of something daring and ideal and things are just getting going. There’s something obscenely joyful behind every door, either that or somebody crying with their head in their hands. A lazy rhythm looms in the dreamy air and the atmosphere pulsates with bygone duels, past-life romance, comrades requesting comrades to aid them in some way. You can’t see it, but you know it’s here.
—  Bob Dylan, Chronicles, Vol. I