And Then There's Dwain . . . (Sung to the tune of "Maude")

One never knows what to expect when meeting someone new.  Especially when it involves the history of your spouse, the DNA of your spouse's cultural heritage, and the 'immersion method' of getting to know that person.

Yep.  I was on tap for Three Days of Dwain.

Being a pretty fun-lovin' gal, I wasn't too worried about it ~ I get along well with most, and can have fun in practically any situation.  Yet, it benefits one to own an internal reserve of . . . 'cope juice' . . . should the event turn awkward and go awry fast.

I was flat outta 'cope juice', I tell ya.  It was a do-or-die situation.

So, I strapped on my seat belt, and hung on for the ride.

I shouldn't have worried.

First off, Dwain is from a fantastic gene pool of kind and willing-to-help folks.  Help he did, right off the bat:

He handled that wagon like he'd done it all of his life.  Took us right into the mix of Baton Rougians all riled up for a St Patty's Day parade . . .

Dwain immediately made his way into my heart with his savvy little Pentax camera.  A photo buff like me, I'd knew we'd get along famously from here on out!  We took some fantastic photos of the Mississippi river all foggy and ghost-like.  I even caught a pic of the two pals together.

But that's not all!  Dwain is also a food connoiseur as I am . . . another foodie!  YAY!  While Gil ordered celery sticks and tofu off of menu's throughout the great state of Louisiana, Dwain and I thrilled over delicacies from here to there, relishing ever bite!  :D  Dwain took a family photo for us, after we dined at Ralph and Kuko's:

Dwain and I braved the French Quarter to purchase some masks for his friend back home, whilst Gil drove around in circles waiting for us (after all, we had decisions to make!) and then we joined more Cajun DNA for supper at Drago's (a tale for tomorrow, all on it's own!).

Choosers.  I want to make it clear:  Dwain is fun spelled F-U-N ~ but nothing prepared us for Dwain's passionate participation at the Irish-Italian parade on Sunday afternoon!

He'd originally arrived with a small gift for Keller:  a duck call.  Before the weekend was over, though, Dwain had put that duck call through it's paces!

As you can see . . . Dwain worked hard for his portion of parade goods.  Overtime, even.

I kid you not, the details I share here are not the full scope of our time together!  When the dizzy-ing pace of our race to do everything that came to our mind came to a close, we were all wiped. out.  Happily so.

As a matter of fact, we've invited Dwain to a respite at Silver Oak Farm, and he's already accepted the invitation.