Just when I begin to wonder what it is that keeps me here, just when Mardi Gras becomes too routine and we seem to keep eating at the same restaurants over and over again, something wonderful happens. Tonight around eight-o-clock, I heard some drums and chants outside my door. I called to The Husband immediately because I knew what was going on. For the first time I saw the Carrollton Hunters pass by my house.I grabbed my camera and went down to the end of the block where three or four costumed Indians danced and sang to drum beats. They came with a heavy entourage of dark vehicles that blocked our street. In addition to seeing the Indians, I also met some new neighbors.
The Carrollton Indians march every year on St. Joseph's day in addition to Super Sunday and Mardi Gras.
