Crawfish and Mayhaw Jelly

We arrived in Houston on Thursday, May 27, the day before festivities began for Joshua and Ashley's wedding. On a whim, we drove from the Houston airport straight for Louisiana, in search of Cajun cooking.

On the backroads of northeast Texas, we passed a farmers' market advertising shelled pecans and mayhaw jelly. "What's mayhaw jelly?" I asked. "It's made from a swamp berry," the clerk explained. The store also featured ripe melons...

and spicy green tomato pickles.

We found great Cajun cooking at Steamboat Bill's, in Lake Charles, Louisiana. We ordered shrimp etoufee, red beans and rice, boudin sausage, and a platter of fried catfish, fried mussels, and stuffed crabs--and ate it all.

We weren't totally reassured as to the nutritional value of our meal by the sign saying that everything was fried in "100% heart healthy peanut oil."

Next stop was L'Auberge, the elegant hotel and casino on Lake Charles. It reminded us of the Mandalay Bay or Bellagio in Vegas. The flamboyant luxe even included a fire burning in an air-conditioned hall, while it was 90 degrees outside!

Lake Charles is both a casino town and an industrial town (oil and gas refining). There were great views from L'Auberge across the lake--to the refinery!

We hung out at the L'Auberge pool party, with a rock band dressed in Mardi Gras style. The band stirred up the crowd by recalling the New Orleans Saints' recent Superbowl win.

Friday morning, we took a loop road south, through the Louisiana Outback to the Gulf Coast.

There was water everywhere--ponds, marshes, lakes, and the Gulf.

We passed signs advertising live crabs...

and we stopped at a cafe selling everything fried, from chicken to jalapenos to okra...

and offering fresh alligator meat.

The houses in this often-flooded land are perched on stilts.

We passed shrimp boats lying at anchor as the BP oil slick tainted the Gulf.

We saw cranes poised for loading ships...

and we finally arrived at Holly Beach, with its bathers in the surf and ships just beyond.

And we passed a fishing pier, with a host of colorful inhabitants.

Nicholas and Jessica

Nothing is as joyful and hopeful as a temple wedding.

This weekend we turned away from all the tough and divisive things Dad's family has faced lately and just celebrated. On Thursday night, we gathered at Alan Dale's ward for a wedding dinner. The wedding pictures and flowers were already in place for the reception Friday night. The gang was all there, including Grandma and Darrell...

Alan Dale and Dad...

Nancy and Darrell...

Michelle...

Pat and Jason...

and the bride and groom.

Friday morning, Dad attended the wedding at the Salt Lake Temple, while I took a crisis conference call. Dad told his family "he just couldn't say" why I wasn't at the temple. I did get there in time for picture taking, with a few other family members who inexplicably appeared after the ceremony was over!

The festivities continued with a reception at Alan Dale and Lindy's ward.

As Grandpa Spendlove used to say, the Spendloves come from the Scottish McDonald clan, all his children's inlaws are from the rival Campbell clan, "and ye kenna trust those Campbells." Lindy has nurtured her Campbell roots better than the rest of us, and a troop of bagpipers played "Amazing Grace" and other favorites at the reception.

Every chore has its possibilities.

The washer at the cabin went out last weekend, and Mike came to the cabin Saturday afternoon to help Dad install a new one. We treated him afterwards to a prime rib dinner at our favorite Kamas restaurant, the Gateway Grill.

Dessert was fruit crisp with mounds of ice cream and so much fruit sauce piped onto the plate decoratively that Dad joked that he was going to ask the waitress to replace his plate because, "It's dirty. It has all that red and blue stuff on it."