Wishing I could move

Week three of my fractured foot - I went to the doctor today who said I had 3 to 5 weeks left of immobility. I feel like a little kid trapped in the house on a boring Sunday afternoon -- I want to get out of here, not just sit around doing work on the laptop.

At least I have good memories of my recent trip to America to comfort me.

I had a wonderful lunch with my uncle Bill Wells at Galatoire's in New Orleans. Here I am seizing the waiter in delight. I loved everything about the restaurant -- the atmosphere, the food, and the service.

I was telling Uncle Bill about our visit earlier in the week to Eudora Welty's home, and how the tour was so boring ("I have a funny story to tell about Miss Welty," the guide said then droned on. "Do you have a nice story about Miss Welty?" he would ask the other guide before launching into another anecdote of his own).

I don't know what I would have done without my friend Brenda who is an expert at making up instant excuses for getting out of dull social situations.

"Elizabeth's daughter has a terrible toothache," she said, motioning to my kid Katie. "I think it's getting worse and I hate to think of her suffering." And with that, five of us escaped into the Mississippi sunshine.

What I really needed then was some of the Galatoire's coffee. "Brandy with a little coffee in it," is how one of the servers described it. Here he is making it for us. I loved it when he set fire to the tablecloths and area surrounding the coffee bowl. So dramatic.