[Recovery Pen has been a column about New Orleans life, from the vantage point of a transplanted northerner with a soft heart and an eye for detail.]

When I was a kid, my mom tried to cheer me up at the end of a fun weekend or family vacation with this old saying: all good things must come to an end. It wasn't much comfort then, and it's not much comfort now. "But why?" I'd ask her. "Why do good things have to end?"

She didn't have an answer for me, and I don't have an answer for you. My fellow bloggers have already said their goodbyes, and now it's my turn. As you've heard, our blog has been cancelled, obviously not because of our writing quality, but because our parent company wants to go in other directions. Bloggingneworleans, and its short-lived predecessor bloggingohio, were to be the vanguard of location-specific sites across the AOL network. But when Bloggingla and bloggingbrooklyn never manifested themselves, well, it didn't come as much of a surprise when we heard they were pulling the plug on us.

Personally, I can say that I received the news with a mixture of sadness and relief. Unlike my fellow bloggers, who plan to set up camp in new spots in the blogosphere, I am looking forward to the old-fashioned pursuit of writing a novel. It's something that I couldn't balance with my full-time job, healthy social life, activist pursuits, and weekly blog, but now I can fit it in. And I'm so grateful for this site which has forced me to sit my butt down and write on a semi-regular basis. Having this practice will help my novelist pursuits immensely.

And yet, and yet... As we recently passed the two-year Katrina anniversary, it saddened me to realize that the city still needs a Recovery Pen, because we're still recovering. And maybe we always will be, the way alcoholics call themselves "recovering" for years after they put down the bottle.

Consider this a coda to the BNO symphony, but I couldn't let this bit of promising news escape the last day of Blogging New Orleans. Today, the Louisiana 3rd Circuit of Appeals vacated the conviction of Mychal Bell, the young black man who stood facing 20 plus years in prison for a school-yard beatdown. This is great news for the friends and families of the Jena 6, the group of young blacks arrested for knocking around a racist white kid at school.

You've probably seen the story on this site before or read about in the in the papers. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say that there are six young men -- and dozens of family members -- in Jena breathing a little easier now.

Ironically, this might be the best news to hit Jena, Louisiana ever. Now, the glaring light and international focus on Jena as the home of southern American racism will ease up. Now, unless the foolish and racist District Attorney Reed Walters (who famously told black students at a school assembly -- at a school assembly -- "I can end your lives with the stroke of a pen" when they organized to protest Jena High School students' racist actions) wants to refile the cases against the six in juvenile court, the young men will hopefully be able to return to their regular lives. Wiser, perhaps, from having faced the gates of a racist hell by lashing out at one sorry jerk who probably inherited race hatred from his prejudiced parents; hopefully the Jena 6 will find a better way to attack racism in their midst than by beating some dumb cracker unconscious.

So Walters will have to decide whether his famous pen is going to stroke against these young men further. He'd better choose wisely. Look what happened to Mike Nifong in Durham, NC, whose prejudices in the famous Duke Lacrosse rape case have cost him his job, and sent him to prison (admittedly for only 24 hours).

Look before you leap, Mr. Walters. The judgement of history is a real bitch when you're on the wrong side.

And you are on the wrong side.

[Terra Nola documents the long-distance love affair between a New Yorker and New Orleans.]

I guess it was bound to happen. Inevitably, we were doomed from the start. Since I was given the honor more than a year ago of writing for bloggingneworleans, I've shared with you my love for the city. I've tried many times in many ways to tell you just what it is about this city that made me fall in love with her, and that which captivates me still.

Several thousands of words later I still can't quite put my finger on what it is that drew me to her, kept me near her--even in her darkest hour--and what, even now, keeps me somehow inextricably bound to her.

I love New Orleans, Nola, the Crescent City, this big easy, more than I've ever loved a place. I didn't even know it was possible to love a place until I met her. Now that the end of our blog is near, our "retirement," I have time once again to pause and think of the ways I love her, to share with you one last time what it is that makes your city so special to me.

Ours was a love that conquered distance if not time, one that weathered lack of money and the trappings of a normal affair. It was a love borne of a need deep within my soul that was filled only by this city full of the dying, the decaying and the dead. They walked among us as cartoons before in the form of vampires and goblins slinking behind a voodoo priestess' grave. Now they walk among us as our brothers and sisters, souls trapped in a past they did not create, drowning in it if they didn't when the flood hit.

These dead do not whisper quietly to us from their lace-iron balconies. No, they walk among us to remind us of what we lost, what we can never have again except in our dreams. Mine was such a dream, and a place I go back to each time I read yet another account of some actrocity burdening the city, burying her right along with our hope.

Just let her go, many say. But I can't. So let me tell you why, all the reasons why, why, why.

I love it that it's so hot down there I never want to visit again. Until I'm in the airport headed home.

I love it that every person I'v ever met every time I've visited has been nothing but sweet as pie to me. No one knows how to treat you right better than a Nola-ite.

I love it that the first time I went down there I felt like I was in another country. I'd wanted to escape, and I did.

I love it that the pinnacle of some people's day is to find a nice shaded balcony to sit on a sip a drink all night long. Crushed ice, a sprig of mint, perhaps a little sazarec. You know what I'm saying.

I love it that there's a story for every spot, a ghost in every room. Whether or not any of it's true you can feel the time passing in such places, their history soaking into you like the cool breeze wafting over you in a courtyard. It is real, if only in New Orleans.

I love it that there's such a fight over whether to bother with rebuilding the city. Makes the fight all the more worth it.

I love the iced coffee and everything fried--it may just be the same old thing but for some reason it just tastes better when you're eating it in New Orleans, especially if you're doing so with a view of the river.

I love those stupid bead stores run by people who don't speak English and are convinced you're going to steal something or that you're too drunk to steal anything.

I love it that life begins after dark. And it's quite a life.

I love it that when I leave all I ever want to do is go back. And I will be back. I will be back.

I love it that I can sit in the dark in the back of Napoleon House brooding about god knows what for as long as i want without someone hassling me. I could sit there forever contemplating, conniving or convincing myself.

I love it that jazz was born here, and that no matter where you go and no matter what time of day, you can hear a little music floating through the air. It's magic. No, really--it is.

It's a magical place, like being in a snowglobe with sparkles--or beads--instead of snow. It's my imagination come alive, my internal monologue sung back to me, the friend I never knew I had or needed, the one thing I can't live without.

Is New Orleans a thing? It's a place, for now. It's a state of mind. It's not necessarily where I'm form, but it's where I belong. And I will be back. I will be back.

Until that time you can find me on the internet. I'll be starting my own blog--and I will be writing about New Orleans. I can't not do it. I can also be found on AOL's ParentDish and That's Fit sites. Who knows where I'll turn up next, but you can rest assured that I'll be found wearing glitter when I do.

Thank you, for sharing in my love for this city. I hope we can save it.

My time here at BloggingNewOrleans has unfortunately been the shortest. I only joined the team and started blogging here back at the end of February. I've enjoyed my brief time writing here, and it's been nice to have this as an extra outlet in which to write about the city I love (even when it does drive me insane).

I'll still continue to write regularly at my own blog, MissMalaprop.com, and I will still try to feature local artists, designers and businesses whenever possible. (So if that describes you, feel free to get in touch and let me know about your work!) I've also got a monthly column at Antigravity Magazine, and locals can pick up a free copy when you're out and about -- out of towners and expatriates can always download a PDF copy of the magazine for free at the website.

I'm continuing to work with other area artists on building a thriving craft scene here, and to that extent much of my time over the next couple of months will be taken up by organizing a new holiday art & craft event on the Mississippi Coast at my mom's flea market. Dubbed Handmade Invasion, I'm hoping this event will help give many local artists an affordable new venue in which to sell and showcase their work, and hopefully it will give shoppers from all over the Gulf South a new alternative for their holiday shopping. I'll also still be working with the New Orleans Craft Mafia and the Louisiana Etsy Street Team to get the word out about local artists and crafters.

I'm said to see BloggingNewOrleans closing its doors (although really it just means no new posts, all the old posts will remain archived here forever). I have had the tendency to overextend myself over the past year or so though, so maybe it's good that I'll have one less project going on in my life. C'est la vie.

I hope you'll all keep in touch, and remember that there are plenty of other great bloggers all around NOLA. There's a fantastic (and huge!) list over at Think NOLA that I highly recommend checking out.

Well, I let you know about the sad news of our site's retirement last week I said I'd tell you more about the future and then... well I dropped off the face of the planet. Before I tell you about the future one last story... Tuesday afternoon(September 11th, ugh) the a rain the dusted the city was the final staw for the roof of the building my apartment is in and water started to pour (and I do me pour) into my bedroom. My poor extremely pregnant better half was home and managed to move the last of our future offspring's future out of the room before the ceiling started to come down around her. So now I'm in a bad situation with an apartment that needs to be emptied and a new one that needs to be found (and now you know why the podcast was late). I have some options and the help of our families is going to help a lot, but I had to cut off my blogging for the week and only just now could get to you... so on to the future... I think my future includes a break for blogging. I loved being able to post my thoughts on the state of the city in this space, but I think I need to take a step back. The tracking of some of the underbelly of the recovery can be really upsetting and I am finding the stress of the country looking at us as the ugly step-sisters of the nation extremely hard. Sometimes you just want to be a techwriter who fauns over the latest websites instead of dealing with hard realities of the recovery.

Maybe I'm just a little tired (as are many in the city). Maybe I'm just a little to angry. Maybe I just need a break.

Wow, that was a little depressing. On a high note, we must end. Thanks for reading my rants. Thanks for commenting on my podcasts. Thanks for sending in your ideas. Thanks for saying hey. Thanks for everything.

I loved covering Jazz Fest for you. I loved getting to know my city again for you. I loved getting politically angry for you. I loved posting for you.

Thank you.

Dirty Coast is one of the most recognizable local t-shirt companies around town. Infamous for their New Orleans inspired tees, such as "Be a New Orleanian. Wherever you are." and "Where's Nagin?", the company got started shortly before Katrina, but things really took off as displaced New Orleanians began snatching up these tshirts as a way of showing hometown pride.

Dirty Coast is hosting an End of Summer Party tonight at Tipitina's uptown. Rotary Downs and The Other Planets will be playing and doors open at 9pm. It's only 8 bucks to get in and sounds like it will be a lot of fun. (The Dirty Coast folks usually know how to throw a pretty good party.) Dirty Coast also recently opened their new retail location at 5704 Magazine Street. I haven't had a chance to drop by and check it out, as I'm rarely uptown these days, but I'll have to make a special visit soon.

Dirty Coast was featured awhile back as one of StayLocal.org's success stories. This will obviously be my last Where to Shop piece here on BloggingNewOrleans, as today is our last day to post, but may I refer you to Stay Local's extensive local business listings? In these days of recovery it's especially important to keep our dollars in the local economy. If you need a reminder why, just check out their top 10 reasons on why to shop local.

[This is a continuation of the author's series on New Orleans lessons, to commemorate both her 10th anniversary of living in New Orleans , as well as the 2nd anniversary of Hurricane Katrina.]

U is for Under

When considering the letter "U," this preposition popped into mind first, although after yesterday's weather, I could have easily gone with "umbrella." Yet I feel like "under" says pretty much all you need to know about New Orleans, America's underdog, the steamy underbelly of our Puritan Union. It's also one of the few places - outside of San Francisco - where you can go out wearing your underwear and people don't even blink. Although I prefer a robe.

V is for Vampire

Although tourists flock to New Orleans to tour vampire author Anne Rice's house, hoping to come across a vampire in the evening shadows, they'd find more bloodsuckers out at our construction sites. Ask anyone who's had work done on their home - including our own Kelly Leahy - and you'll get an earful about dishonest contractors who either bled them dry or sucked the life out of them with postponements and switchbacks until the homeowner finally ended up in the fetal position. Now I know there are some good, honest contractors out there - and really, the three of you should form a club.

On the subject of vampires, I could go into detail about some of the gentlemen who have taught me valuable lessons during my time in New Orleans, but this isn't that kind of blog. Besides, you boys know who you are.

It's time for the last Blogging New Orleans podcast. Each week I record a podcast about all things New Orleans on Tuesday evening and upload it for all of you to listen to on Wednesday afternoon. Comments, questions, concerns? Comment on this post or contact us via the tips link on the site. This week I give my podcast good byes and interview the most important expert I know, my dad. Mark Schleifstein is the co-author of Path of Destruction: The Devastation of New Orleans & the Coming Age of Superstorms (note: I am the current webmaster of the official book site and Mark is my dad) and a reporter for the Times Picayune who covers environmental issues and hurricanes (and more).

• Welcome
• Good byes and the reasons for the delay
• the interview with my dad
• The future of New Orleans
• The Levees
• Lakeview, Gentilly and the Ninth Ward
• Katrina and Rita's effect on the Ninth Ward
• Politics
• Sports
• A bright future with new engineering projects and lots of jobs
• Thanks

Thanks for listening to the last 35 episodes of this podcast. Its been great telling you my thoughts every week and talking about the city.

Update: there was an error in the filename of the podcast, fixed now.

SUBSCRIBE to the Blogging New Orleans podcast in iTunes
LISTEN to the podcast now
ADD the Blogging New Orleans podcast feed to your RSS aggregator

At least they waited until after the second anniversary of Katrina. The powers-that-be behind this website have decided to pull the plug on it this month (the preferred term is "retired") for business reasons. The market giveth, the market taketh away. I regret that the site will be retired, but that's the way the praline crumbles.

I've had a great time writing for bloggingneworleans.com. There have been times when writing for this blog has helped keep me sane. I've blown off a lot of steam about the various impediments and potholes in the road of post-Katrina New Orleans. Documenting what's been going on around town has been a blast, and despite the 'early retirement' of a great site dedicated to a great city, I'll still be writing.

I've been impressed by the quality of comments on our posts. To be sure, there are a few wingnuts out there on every side of the political spectrum, but for the most part our commenters have been thoughtful and civil. I have always enjoyed hearing from folks, especially those who take issue with my opinions or disagree with my points. To all you commenters, I have appreciated your words, and the time you took to comment. Your comments have helped me rethink some of my arguments, and similarly I hope you have found my words to be informative, too.

We gain the most insight into our own opinions when they are challenged by the opinions of others, and despite the fact that our greater political structure is criminally dysfunctional in this regard, we, the people of this great city (and country) understand that it's not always about winning or losing, it's about creating a better world for ourselves and for those yet to come. The kind of scorched-earth, winner-take-all politics that we have seen for years in DC and throughout the land is what has hurt New Orleans since Katrina and long before. This type of politics is filled with hot air, trite slogans, and vapid ideologies. Having seen many examples of blogs and discussion boards that begin on point, but devolve into puerile mud-slinging, I have been most appreciative of the quality of comments (and posts, my fellow bloggingneworleans writers). I will miss this forum.

We've amassed quite a record in our coverage of the happenings in this city-in-recovery. There has never been a shortage of subjects to write about, only a shortage of time in which to write about them. But of course, there's never enough time for doing everything you want.

As for me, I've made inquiries for freelance work at the local alternative newsweekly, and I'll be writing some on the new DIY Life website. I'm making a series of "how to build a bike" entries, which may not be as compelling journalistically as I have tried to make my BNO posts, but should still be pretty entertaining.

In the meantime, you'll find me cruising around the city on my newly rebuilt bike, doing research at the libraries or the courthouse, sipping an iced coffee at Flora's, or having a beer and shooting pool at Markey's.

I guess that's it. Stay well, good people. And thanks for checking out Blogging New Orleans. Peace...

It started with a post that I read on Craigslist looking for New Orleans Bloggers. A paid blogging position sounded too good to be true but sure enough, I became part of Blogging New Orleans during its early weeks. It was slow going at first, no commenters and no direction. I feel like we've really come into our own in the past few months with individual voices coming through and drawing comments from even the quietest lurkers. I'm happy to have been a part of this and grateful to Weblogs, Inc. for giving our city a platform on the AOL network.

I was blogging well before Blogging New Orleans. I had a personal site called "Yer Mom an' Dem" that I took down after Katrina. I lost my sense humor and didn't feel much like blogging at the time. I also had a pregnancy blog entitled, "Baby Mama Drama" that I stopped in early 2006. Before that I had an online journal to fulfill any exhibitionist tendencies of mine. Where to now? I intend to remain on board with Weblogs, Inc. The people that I've met are great and I'll ride it out as long as they will have me. I've toyed with the idea of another personal blog centered around the Crescent City but I'm not sure that I will be going in that direction any time soon.

I found this plaque embedded in the bricks outside the Oil & Gas Building, on the corner of Common and Rampart in the CBD. It reads "One hundred years after Col. Drake [?] completed the nation's first successful oil well in Titusville, Pennsylvania, the New Orleans Oil Centennial Committee deposited historical documents here to commemorate the occasion."

A celebration of oil's first century, eh? Hope they enjoyed the party, 'cos according to some geologists, we are approaching the end of the "peak oil" era. Some estimate that global oil supplies will begin to decline in mid-century, and that by 2050 the decline in production rates -- from having used up this limited resource -- will be precipitous.

In a hundred years, if that plaque is still there, it might seem like more of a tombstone than a time-capsule.

[Apologies for the off-set photo cropping ... it couldn't be avoided.]

[Terra Nola documents the long-distance love affair between a New Yorker and New Orleans.]

Well, if I hadn't read it with my own eyes I would not have believed it (not that we should believe everything we read). Looks like there is to be a second Camellia Grill, this one in Destin, Florida, beloved by teenagers on spring break everywhere.

As I said to Kelly Leahy, co-blogger here at bloggingneworleans, there can be only one. Even if the reopened version in Nola is doing well enough, the new owner is messing with some pretty serious karma to try and duplicate his success outside of the Crescent City. It was a miracle the Camellia Grill reopened at all given the devastation and destruction left in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. Why tempt fate?

But, that said, if you're going to tempt fate, you might as well do it in the pan handle. If a greasy spoon operation is going to make it anywhere, it can make it in Destin. Not that Destin is lacking in diners--to the contrary, they're everywhere.

Recently spotted on the West Bank, this fixer-upper mere blocks from the Mississippi River. Priced to sell; act fast before the termites get in.

Well, it's probably too late for that. Nice holes in the wall, eh?

Geez, I wish that I had known. Maybe these guys can recommend a plumber to me. "This Old House" will be making its way to New Orleans to focus on the rebuilding efforts in the 9th Ward. They will be taking a look at the Musicians Village (no so old) and also zoning ordinances in Holy Cross (very old).

It certainly makes sense that they will be making their way down here and I'm glad that they will be looking at a house in Holy Cross which is a beautiful neighborhood. When you get the chance, drive down there and check out the two Doullut Steamboat Houses. The neighborhood is sandwiched between Jackson Barracks and the old Holy Cross school. There is a significant amount of renovation in the area led by the PRC and prices are great.

I look forward to catching a few "This Old House" New Orleans episodes in January.

Well, we're just about at the end of the road for Blogging New Orleans. As you may know, Friday the 14th is our last day as a live website. Into every life a little rain must fall, or so it's said, and this is just another example of that truism.

Speaking of rain, it's also said that it never rains unless it pours. This week, New Orleans is being drenched by wandering downpours that soak parts of the city while other parts stay dry. The photo was taken on Tuesday from the railroad tracks at Burgundy and Press Street in the Bywater, those dark columns are sheets of rain falling over the remoter reaches of the Upper 9th Ward, and as you can see, the rest of the area had sunny skies.

Weather here is pretty chaotic sometimes. Rain can fall on you from a seemingly clear blue sky. It can hit like a fist in some neighborhoods while others nearby don't get so much as a sprinkle. I think it's incredible; the idiosyncratic weather is one of the charms of New Orleans, in my opinion. Hyper-localized micro-cloudbursts, my term for these wandering small scale showers, keep things interesting around here.

Sudden, unexpected, and violent, they offer a handy metaphor for life these days. Lately, things for me personally have been substantially rainy (metaphorically), like some kind of existential storm has taken up a position over my head, sending watery sheets of questionable luck down upon me. I won't dwell overmuch on any of this, but since mid-July, I have dealt with a string of misfortunes that make me rethink my skepticism towards voodoo, particularly hexes.

Just a brief rundown: My computer (upon which I rely to write) had a fatal motherboard crash in late July. (It has since been repaired with a new motherboard, and a big THANK YOU goes to Ted C. at Common Ground tech support for his invaluable assistance in this matter.)

Then my bicycle was stolen in the middle of the day from the main branch of the New Orleans Public Library while I was inside. The "security" dude told me there are bike thefts every day there. My question to him should have been, "So then why the hell are you in here instead of out there?"

My housemates were roughhousing one night in late August and hit a table where my digital camera was. It fell and broke, and only the persistence born of my desperation brought it back to life.

Just when I was recovering from my computer and camera woes, my favorite outlet for my writing -- this very site -- was selected for retirement. I'll keep writing, of course, but will lament the loss of this space for community dialogue.

My car's brakes then started going bad, and now the car sits in a shop with an estimated $440 worth of repairs due.

And last night, my cell phone died with finality, taking the phone numbers of hundreds of friends with it. [Note: if you are a friend of mine and you are reading this, give me a call. Same number for me, but brand new phone-MR]

I begin to wonder if someone put a curse on me. New Orleans is, after all, the birthplace of American Voudoun.

I must note that these misfortunes are only manifesting themselves in the material plane; my relationships with friends, family, co-workers, and neighbors are generally wonderful, and it's a rare day that I don't randomly run into a friend or acquaintance whom I might not have seen in a while. Not to mention meeting new people just about every day, too. I am very lucky in ways that the misfortunes of the material world can not dim.

Speaking of dim, the light bulb in my bedroom just popped. I hope there's still a step ladder in the house, 'cos that bulb is 14 feet off the ground.