Lulu's Recipe for Cajun Sass - Sandra Hill Page 0,69

bear. Louise realized that she’d unconsciously avoided those songs over the decades in favor of the traditional French Cajun music, or zydeco, of the bayou. Now she knew why.

Etienne…rather, Steve…went off with his Daddy to look at all the military stuff, including, yes, a few tanks. Tee-John probably accompanied him so he wouldn’t really climb into one of the things.

Next up was a booth about Victory Gardens and home canning. Hah! Cajuns, ever frugal, knew all about the benefits of raising their own food. There was even a booth about bayou animals, how to catch and cook them, including squirrels, raccoons, snakes…and gators, of course.

“There’s a trend toward austerity t’day,” Charmaine told her, using the same word Tee-John had, back in the car. “People wanna go back ta simpler lifestyles. Avoid processed foods and red meat. Live off the land, completely.”

“Whass wrong with a supermarket once in awhile?” Louise asked. “And ain’t nothin’ like a rare roast beef with sides of okra and dirty rice.”

“I cain’t argue with that, livin’ on a ranch and all. Right, Rusty?” Charmaine asked.

But Rusty and Mary Lou had already moved on to the next booth where an old-fashioned wringer-type washing machine was being demonstrated.

“I remember those. What a pain in the hiney they were! Took half a day jist ta do a little laundry. ’Course, Monday was allus wash day. And we allus had red beans an’ rice simmerin’ on the stove on Mondays ’cause it took no trouble.”

Rob and Annie were fascinated by a Pez booth with samples of hundreds of the candy dispensers. An old Woolworth sign advertised them for ten cents each. She could only imagine what those early ones were worth today.

Cigarette girls walked around the grounds with trays held by a neck strap. Camels, Lucky Strikes, Pall Malls, Raleighs. They were probably empty packs, considering their reputation as “coffin nails,” but there was no question they had been popular back in the day. She’d smoked a few herself, when she’d thought they made her look older and more sophisticated.

Separate booths dealt with ration books, Spam, Griswold cast-iron pans, and kitchen gadgets. Louise had to explain to Mary Lou the purpose of ice picks, hand-cranked meat grinders, and treadle sewing machines.

All the women and girls were fascinated by the vintage clothing on display. Both Sylvie and Rachel sat down to have their hair styled in “Victory Rolls” that ran from one ear, along the nape, to the other ear, with center parts, or cute bangs across their foreheads. Still others had their hair done into an “up-do.”

Meanwhile, among the crowds, Celine pointed out that there were educators here who wanted to impart information about the era (the event organizers, historical societies, professors, and authors), men who liked boy toys (the military paraphernalia, in particular), and the promenaders (military re-enactors and people who just loved the attire of that time period, like Charmaine). Occasional World War II vets also hobbled about. Actually, veterans of other wars, as well.

Louise was particularly touched when she noticed some fellows in the old white “crackerjack” uniforms of the sailors, complete with the “Dixie Cup” or “gob” hats that could be molded to a rakish angle. The memories they triggered caused her heart to constrict so tight she could barely breathe.

“Are you all right?” Tee-John asked, coming to stand beside her. Apparently he and Etienne were done ogling the war planes and tanks.

“I’m fine,” she replied, but looped her arm in his as they moved along.

“Holy shit!” Etienne said suddenly.

“Watch yer language.” His father smacked him on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Etienne apologized, though he didn’t look sorry at all. Instead, he pointed to a tent that had a display of 40s pin-up posters and magazine covers, including some by the famous painter Alberto Vargas.

“Lookee there, Tante Lulu was a centerfold.”

“She was not!” Tee-John declared, giving his son another smack.

“Yes, I was,” Tante Lulu said.

“Told ya!” Etienne hooted. “That chick up there looks jist lak Tante Lulu in that graduation picture on her dresser…the one in a silver frame. Y’know the one I mean, Daddy. She’s wearin’ a red dress and high heels and holdin’ a diploma.”

“I’ll be damned!” Tee-John muttered.

Everyone in her family who’d gathered to see what the problem was turned as one to stare at her, up at the posters, then back at her.

“I was a pin-up, not a centerfold,” Louise amended.

Luc groaned.

Tee-John laughed.

“Lemme see,” Charmaine said, pushing her way forward. Then, examining the two posters in questions, she remarked, “Wow! You were a real