Bonnie Blue Meets Mickey Mouse

In October 1975, when I was twelve years old, my baby sister Bonnie Blue was born. Baby girl had curly white-blond hair, a round cherub face, and bright blue eyes. Bonnie Blue looked like an adorable Gerber Baby; Drool and all.

As the big sister, it was my job to babysit Bonnie when my parents were away. I didn't mind, and by the time she turned two, I would often carry her to the park near our house. The park had many fascinations; an ancient oak tree for climbing, swings and slides to entertain little sister, and most of all, Frampton.

At the age of fourteen, I had discovered boys, and Frampton was the first object of my affection. Frampton was a teenage boy with long wavy red hair that resembled an Irish setter’s coat and chocolate brown eyes. He was trying to grow a mustache. However, the hairs had only grown on the sides of his mouth and not under his nose.

My father, Honest Joe, had decreed that I was not allowed to date boys until I turned fifteen. Nobody went against Honest Joe. So, in a moment of brilliance, I decided to call Frampton "Mickey Mouse" whenever my baby sister was around.

At dinner time, the conversation would often go like this; Daddy would ask Bonnie, "Did you go anywhere today?" Baby girl would reply, "the park." Dad would ask, "Did you talk to anyone?" Bonnie would say, "Mickey Mouse." Honest Joe would then say, "That's nice," and I would be able to breathe again.

Many years later, at a family gathering, I saw one of my grandchildren playing with a stuffed Mickey Mouse toy. That doll reminded me of Frampton, so I told my sister Bonnie Blue the story. She stared at me with a shocked look on her face as I told the tale. Then, she laughed and said, "That explains many things." I said, "What things?" She said, "I am so going to get you back!" I said, "Tell me, baby sister."

Bonnie then told me that she had gone through her entire life thinking that she once had an imaginary friend named Mickey Mouse. I am sorry that I confused my little sister. I still can't help smiling whenever I remember that time.

--- Sugie Bee

Red Velvet Bourbon Cake Balls

This trendy treat with a New Orleans flair is simple to make, perfect for entertaining, and sure to be raved about at your next party. The velvet cake gives this treat a delicious cocoa flavor, and the bright red color makes it a festive addition to Holiday parties. GATHER YOUR GROCERIES: Red Velvet Cake - baked but not frosted One cup of Cream Cheese Frosting. (recipe below) Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips - 1 bag One fourth cup of Whiskey THE WAY TO DO IT: Cook the red velvet cake following the directions on the cake mix package or your favorite from-scratch recipe. Cool the cake completely. Do not frost. Crumble cake into a large mixing bowl and drizzle the whiskey onto the crumbled cake. Dollop the cream-cheese frosting into the cake and whiskey mixture and combine thoroughly—chill mixture for one hour. Roll the chilled whiskey cake into quarter-sized balls and place it on a cookie sheet. Chill the balls until they are firm. Melt the chocolate chips in the microwave, following the

Cajun French Language Dictionary

Cajun French is different from the language spoke in France. Acadians migrated from France over 300 years ago. Just as Americans speak English differently after being separated from England for hundreds of years, the same is true of the Acadians. Here is a few of my favorite Cajun phrases: Bon Appetite! Enjoy! Bonjour Mes Amis Good day my friends. Ca c'est bon That's good! C'est magnifique That is great! Faire des commissions buy groceries, making grocery bill Fais do do Traditional Cajun dance or party Lagniappe An unexpected nice surprise. Laissez les bon temps roulet Let the good times roll! Mamere Maw maw or Grandma Merci Beaucoup Thank you very much. Mon cher My dear. Mouche a mielle Honey bee

Hello World

In my family, everyone has a nickname. My nickname is Sugie. It's an endearment and a form of the word sugar, because I was such a sweet baby. I was born in New Orleans in 1964. I lived on Rampart Street with my father, Honest Joe, and my mother, Beanie. I must have been a beautiful baby because my Godmother, that I called Nanny, said I looked just like a Chatty Cathy doll. As the oldest, I had an entire 16 months of total adoration from my parents until my brother showed up and ruined my one baby show. My parents called my brother little man. I couldn't say little man, so I changed his name to Manny, and five decades later, the name still sticks. Manny and I overcame our differences and happily basked in the glow of our parent's love until 16 months later when my little sister Tweety showed up. Tweety became the baby, and I was suddenly the Big Sister who had to help take care of the baby. I wanted to be the baby, not take care of the baby. My life was ruined. --- Sug

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