We are planning to take the Cameron Ferry today, assuming the tide is favorable and Odyssey can make it up and down the loading ramps. I've been searching the web for more information on the ferry, and one of the things that came up on Google was the following bit about the 12 Days of Christmas. (The ferry makes its appearance on Day 9.) We've seen this before, but now that we're here in the bayou country, we "get" more of the references. It's funny enough that we thought we'd share with y'all. Apologies and thanks to the original author, wherever he/she may be...


The 12 Days of Christmas...Cajun Style !

Day 1....Dear Emile, Thanks for da bird in the
Pear tree. I fixed it last night with dirtyrice
an' it was delicious. I doan tink the Pear tree
would grow in de swamp, so I swapped it for a
Satsuma.

Day 2....Dear Emile, Your letter said you sent 2
turtle dove, but all I got was 2 scrawny pigeon.
Anyway, I mixed them with andouille and made some
gumbo out of dem.

Day 3....Dear Emile, Why doan you sen me some
crawfish? I'm tired of eating dem darned bird. I
gave two of those prissy French chicken to Mrs.
Fontenot over at Grand Chenier, and fed the tird
one to my dog, Phideaux. Mrs. Fontenot
neededsome sparring partners for her fighting
rooster.

Day 4....Dear Emile, Mon Dieux! I tole you no
more of dem bird. Deez four, what you
call"calling bird" wuz so noisy you could hear dem
all da' way to Lafayette. I usedthey necks for my
crab traps, and fed the rest of dem to the gators.

Day 5....Dear Emile, You finally sent something
useful. I liked dem golden rings, me. I hocked
dem at da' pawn shop in Sulphur and got enough
money to fix the shaft on my shrimp boat, and to
buy a round for da boys at the Raisin' Cane
Lounge. Merci Beaucoup!

Day 6.... Dear Emile, Couchon! Back to da birds,
you coonass turkey! Poor egg sucking Phideaux is
scared to death ah dem six goose. He try to eat
they eggs and they pecked the heck out ah his
snout. Dem goose are damm good at eating
cockroach around da' house, though. I may stuff
one ah dem goose with erster dressing to serve him
on Christmas Day.

Day 7....Dear Emile, I'm gonna wring your fool
neck next time I see you. Ole Boudreaux, da
mailman, is ready to kill you, too. The crap from
all dem bird is stinkin up his mailboat. He afraid
someone will slip on dat stuff and gonna sue him.
I let dem seven swan loose to swim on da bayou and
some stupid duckhunter from Mississippi done
blasted dem out da water. Talk to you tomorrow.

Day 8....Dear Emile, Poor ole Boudreaux had to
make 3 trips on his mailboat to deliver dem 8
maids-a-milking & der cows. One of dem cows got
spooked by da alligators and almost tipped over da
boat. I doan like dem shiftless maids, me. I
told dem to get to work gutting fish and sweeping
my shack--but dey say itwasn't in their contract.
They probably tink they too good to skin all dem
nutria I caught las night.

Day 9....Dear Emile, What you trying to do?
Boudreaux had to borrow da Cameron Ferry to carry
these jumping twits you call lords-a-leaping
across da bayou. As soonas dey got here dey
wanted a tea break and crumpets. I doan know what
dat means but I says, "Well la di da. You get
Chicory coffee or nuthin." Mon Dieux, Emile, what
I'm gonna feed all these bozos? They too snooty
for fried nutria, and da cow ate up all my turnip
green.

Day 10....Dear Emile, You got to be out of you
mind. If da mailman don't kill you, I will.Today
he deliver 10 half nekkid floozies from Bourbon
Street. Dey said theybe "ladies dancing" but they
doan act like ladies in front of dem Limey sailing
boys. Dey almost left after one of them got bit
by a water moccasinover by my out- house. I had
to butcher 2 cows to feed toute le monde (everybody)
and get toilet paper rolls. The Sears catalog
wasn't good enough fordem hoity toity lords. Talk
at you tomorrow.

Day 11....Dear Emile, Where Y'at? Cherio and pip
pip. You 11 Pipers Piping arrived today fromthe
House of Blues, second lining as dey got off da
boat. We fixed stuffed goose and beef jumbalaya,
finished da whiskey, and we're having a
fais-do-do. Da' new mailman drank a bottle of Jack
Daniel, and he's having a good oldtime dancing
with the floozies. Da' old mailman done jump off
the Moss Bluff Bridge yesterday, screaming you
name. If you happen to get a mysterious-looking,
ticking package in da mail, don't open it.

Day 12....Dear Emile, Me I'm sorry to tell
you--but I am not your true love anymore.
Afterthe fais-do-do, I spent da night with Jacque,
the head piper. We decide to open a restaurant and
gentlemen's club on the bayou. The
floozies--pardon me--ladies dancing can make $20
for a table dance, and the lords can be the waiters
and valet park da boats. Since da' maids have no
more cows to milk, I trained dem to set my crab
traps, watch my trotlines, and run my shrimping
business. We'll probably gross a million dollars
next year.