26
Rue
Two months later
I lift a cardboard box full of Amabel’s things down from the moving truck. It isn’t particularly heavy, but it is sort of big and unwieldy. Carrying it across the yard, I notice that I am sweating. Not just a little bit, but a lot. And in weird places, too.
I guess that is the main difference between Liechtenstein and New Orleans. If the sun is out, it is hot here. And if it’s hot, I’m sweating.
Even when the shadow of our new two-story home falls over me, I’m still sweating. The humidity here is no joke, that’s for sure.
Hefting the box again, I make it up the steep front porch steps of the stubby looking house. It’s Spanish in style, with lovely balconies. The façade is a vivid shade of pink and there are lovely bright white cornices and wrought iron fini
