Smiley: Winter wonderland

Frank Fronczek, this column’s unpaid poetry consultant, sends this message:

“While hardly ‘white and deep,’ our snowfall begs a rerun of ‘Stopping by lawns on a snowy morning,’ which ran in your column a few years ago.

“I think the author’s name was Frosty Bob, or something like that.”

I agree, Frank, that this is a timely bit of verse:

“Whose lawns these are I think I know.

They’re curled up in their houses though;

They will not see me stopping here

To watch their lawns fill up with snow.

My little dog must think it queer

To stop without a fire plug near

Between the street and frozen roofs

The whitest morning of the year.

She gives her collar leash a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound’s the creak

Of breaking limbs from downy flakes.

These lawns are lovely, white and deep.

But I have breakfast yet to eat,

And blocks to walk before I sleep,

And blocks to walk before I sleep.”

4Bia?

Buck Blouin, of Prairieville, comments on the placement of the jump of my Monday column:

“Hey Smiley: I noticed your column was continued on the obituary page this morning, on 4B.

“Don’t want to give you a 4Bia about this, but they may be trying to give you a subtle hint!”

Hot date

Our recollections of great hot tamales in the Baton Rouge area brought this response about New Orleans tamales from Andy:

“The best hot tamales were available in the late ’40s and ’50s from a cart on South Carrollton and Iberville Street, by Jesuit High School.

He says they were especially tasty “late at night, when you were on the way home with a date. But at times the date would like them too much and eat faster than you.

“To slow her down, you would just mention that the tamales were made with the meat from alley cats.

“If she didn’t believe you, you’d have her look around and see if any cats were anywhere to be seen.

“That would slow her down, or she would quit altogether.

“And sometimes that would be your last date.”

Happy returns

Michael Montagnino, of Greenwell Springs, says he had his mind “on those two dozen delicious ‘Bundtinis’ I had just purchased” when he dropped his credit card at Nothing Bundt Cakes on Corporate Boulevard:

“When I reached my next stop, in Watson, I realized my credit card was missing.

“I called the cake shop, and a nice lady informed me that an honest citizen had found it in the parking lot and turned it in.

“Many thanks to this fine person and to everyone involved!”

Looking for stuff

  • Charles says he was “very excited” to see our mention of the D’Amico family’s great Baton Rouge restaurant, Mike & Tony’s:

“I ate with them hundreds of times, on Scenic Highway and Airline Highway locations.”

He wonders if the famed esquire salad recipe still exists.

If it does, he’d love a copy.

“I have looked and longed for it for years.”

    Ashley J., a student in Mount Vernon, Wash., picked Louisiana for a class project because, “The state is full of culture: food, music and celebrating like Mardi Gras.”

Ashley’s looking for things like “sport shirts, postcards, fun Mardi Gras masks, souvenirs, key chains, snow globes, food recipes, maps and pencils, anything that is from your state.”

You can send stuff to Ashley J., Mrs. Talbert’s Class, Conway School, 19710 State Route 534, Mount Vernon, WA 98274.

Special People Dept.

  • Two residents of North Ridge Care Center, in Baker, celebrated their birthdays Jan. 20. Daisy Tyson was 99 and Shirley McCoy was 94.

The center put on a party with cake, ice cream, punch, balloons, tiaras and music for the ladies.

    Virginia N. Walters celebrated her 94th birthday on Sunday, Jan. 26.

    Betty Anderson, of Amber Terrace Assisted Living, celebrates her 90th birthday on Tuesday, Jan. 28.

Walk this way

T. Med Hogg says he can’t agree with the reader who gave us this quotation: “Never look down to test the ground before taking the next step. He who keeps his eyes affixed upon his feet loses sight of his final goal.”

Says Med, “I look down to test the ground before I take a step, because I am 92 years old and do not want to fall and break a hip. That’s my final goal.”

A damp shame

“Sorry!” says Harriet St. Amant. “I couldn’t resist sending this groaner from Stan Kegel:

“The chemical formula for holy water is H2OMG!”

Write Smiley at Smiley@theadvocate.com. He can also be reached by fax at (225) 388-0351 or mail at P.O. Box 588, Baton Rouge, LA 70821.