Fw: 12 Days of Cajun Christmas

H. C. Covington (ach1@sprynet.com)
Sat, 27 Dec 1997 05:26:52 -0600

Since Dr. Hofer was kind enough to keep us informed of the dealings at the
North Pole, felt that it was only fitting to let you know what has been
happening in my neck of the woods. (Louisiana)

12 Days of Cajun Christmas

Day 1: Dear Boudreaux, Thanks for de bird in de Pear tree.  I fix it
las' night with dirty rice.  I doan tink de pear tree.will grow in
de swamp, so I swap it for a Satsuma.

Day 2: Dear Boudreaux, You letter say you sent two turtle doves,
but all I got was two scrawny pigeons.  Anyway, I mixed dem with
andouille an made some gumbo out of dem.

Day 3: Dear Boudreaux, Why doan you sent some crawfish?  I'm tired
of eating dem darn birds.  I gave two of dose prissy French chickens
to Marie Trahan over at Grans Bayou an fed the tird one to my dog
Phideaux.  Marie needed some sparing partners for her fighting

Day 4: Dear Boudreaux, Mon Dieux!  I tol you no more friggin
birds.  Deez four, what you call dem "calling birds" were so noisy you
could hear dem all de way to Napoleonville.  I used dere necks for my
crab traps, an fed de rest of dem to de gators.

Day 5: Dear Boudreaux, You finally sen' somethin useful.  I like
dem golden rings, me.  I hocked dem at da pawn shop in Thibodeaux and
got enuf money to fix da shaft on my shrimp boat an buy a round for da
boys at de Raisin' Cane Lounge.  Merci Beaucoup!

Day 6: Dear Boudreaux, Couchon! Back to da birds, you coonass
turkey!  Poor egg suckin' Phideaux is scared to death at dem six gaeases.
He tried to eat dems eggs and dey peck de heck out ah his snout.  Dey
good at eating cockroaches, though.  I may stuff one of dem wit
erster dressing on Christmas day.

Day 7: Dear Boudreaux, I'm gonna wring your fool neck next time I
see you.  Thibeau, da mailman, is ready to kill ya.  The merde from all
dem birds is stinkin' up his mailboat.  He afraid someone will slip
on dat stuff and sue him good.  I let those seven swans loose to swim
on de bayou and some duck hunters from Mississippi blasted dem out of
de water.  Talk to you tomorrow.

Day 8: Dear Boudreaux, poor ole Thibeau, he had to make tree trips
on his mailboat to deliver dem 8 maids a milkin and their cows.  One
of dem cows got spooked by da alligators and almost tipped over da
boat.  I doan like dem shiftless maids, me no.  I tolt dem to get to work
guttin fish and sweepinq the shack but dey say it wasn't in dair
contract.  Dey probably think dey too good ta skin nutrias I caught
las night.

Day 9: Dear Boudreaux, What you trying to do huh?  Thibeau had to
borrow the Lutcher ferry to carry dem jumpin twits you call
Lords-a-Leaping across the bayou.  As soon as dey gots here dey
wanted a tea break with crumpets.  I doan know what dat means but I says,
*Well La Di Da.  You get Chicory coffee or nuttin. *  Mon Dieu,
Emile. What I'm gonna feed all dese bozos?  Dey too snooty for fried
nutria, and de cows done eat my turnip greens.

Day 10: Dear Boudreaux, You got to be outs you mind!  If de mailman
don't kill you, I will fo sure.  Today he deliver 10 half nikid
floozies from Bourbon Street.  Dey said dey be *Ladies Dancin* but
dey doan act like ladies in front of dose Limey twits.  Dey almos left
after one of dem got bit by a water moccasin over by da out-house.
I had to butcher 2 cows to feed toute le monde an had to get toilet paper.
The Sears catalog wasn't good enuf fer dose hoity toity Lords' royal

Day 11: Dear Boudreaux, where y'at?  Cheerio an pip pip.  Your 11
pipers piping arrives today from the House of Blues, second lining
as dey got off de boat.  We fixed snuffed goose and beef jambalaya,
finished da whiskey and we having a fais-do-do.  Da new mailman he
drink a bottle of Jack Daniel an he having a good time yeah dancing
with de floozies.  Thibeau he jump off de Sunshine Bridge yesterday,
screaming your name.  If you get a mysterious, ticking package
in de mail, doan open it.

Day 12: Dear Boudreaux, I sorry to tell ya but I not your true love
anymore, no.  After da fais-do-do, I spent de night with Jacque, de
head piper.  We decide to open a restaurant and gentleman's club on
de bayou.  The floozies, pardon me, Ladies dancing can make $20 for a
table dance, and de Lords can be waiters an valet park de boats.
Since de maids doan have no more cows ta milk, I trained dem ta set my
crab traps, watch my trotlines, an run my shrimping business.  We will
probably gross a million clams nex year.

Along the Bayou in South Louisiana