Beads By The Dozen in Elmwood

Mardi Gras Bead Shop in ElmwoodTechnical difficulties kept me from posting this blog yesterday, so this is technically what I saw yesterday, but here it is. Pox on you, internet outages! J. still has my car, so I rode Jack out to Elmwood for a doctor’s appointment. I rode up the levee and then over on Edwards, which clearly doesn’t see a lot of bikes. Cars seemed oblivious to my presence, but I just carried on, staying alert. I passed lots of interesting warehouses on my ride, home to the usual suspects–electronics, furniture, etc.–but also places I just don’t think of. Like the National Fruit Flavor Company. And Beads By The Dozen, where you can get, yes, beads, by the dozen. I stopped in on my ride back and took this picture staring down the first aisle. Beads and beads and beads. So many beads. I have screamed and yelled and begged for these beads, and now I know where they come from–or at least the second-to-last-stop they make before I get them in my hands. This place even had the rubber chicken I lost to N. two years ago, at my first Mardi Gras. Talking to C. and P. later that night, we noted that seeing this place didn’t actually take any of the shine off the beads we caught ourselves. It’s strange the pull these beads have over me, even knowing where they come from–especially knowing where they come from. After the welcome cool-down I was back on the bike, shopping for bike presents for A. and for me too. After lunch in the Marigny and a dodgy ride home in threatening weather, I was home, tired, a little bit sunburnt, and happy. But next time I ride that much in that kind of heat and humidity, I need to slow down and drink a lot more water. Lesson learned. Again.

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