For at least a little while, the water level has stopped falling. I don’t think it has risen, but according to my walking path, it has sort of reached a stalemate. Perhaps if we get some rain, things will change.

The Belle River landing continues to be crowded every day, and I see sacks of crawfish on the stands along Hwy. 70 going into Pierre Part. But there isn’t the air of excitement that is prevalent when people are catching lots of crawfish.

My husband is still getting plenty of prop bushing business at our shop. That will increase as the water drops.

It’s probably not as common as it seems, but there are a lot of Pro-drives and Gator-tail motors in use this year. I see a Go-Devil now and then, and of course, plenty of standard outboards, but as I sit on a favorite log in the woods a bit north of the landing, I can hear the boats coming through a canal across the river, and before I even see them, I can tell what’s coming.

There was an FLW fishing tournament at the landing last weekend, but I haven’t heard a thing about any winners or even who participated.

The landing was packed with crawfishermen and sportsmen and their vehicles. It wasn’t easy finding a parking spot for my car, and then I purposely stayed as far away from the crowd as possible, which meant parking on the grass at the far north end of the landing area.

Rumors were going around that crabs might be in the river, but my camper neighbor put out two of our shared traps and caught nothing. He runs them when he and his family are here and I run them when they go home. If there is anything to catch, of course. We’ll try again next week.

I’m heading to Los Angeles today (May 9), to see my oldest granddaughter graduate from Whittier College. I’m very proud of her and more than a bit worried because she’s been able to find only a part-time job as of yet.

My older sister, who has been on Coumadin after two cardioversian events, scraped her shin a few days ago and wound up in the hospital when the bleeding wouldn’t stop. She also banged her other leg and a hematoma developed in that one, so she was in bad shape for a few days.

Then I took a good friend to Teche Regional Hospital in Morgan City for an MRI which her doctor had ordered and the result of that showed she’d had some mini-strokes.

I’m getting a bit nervous about all these medical issues, although I received a letter from the same hospital telling me that my last mammogram was normal, a fact I already knew (they told me at the time of the exam). But it was nice to see it on paper.

It might be in the Teche News paper soon, but if not, a young friend of mine recently ran over a huge, sinker cypress log in Grassy Lake near Morgan City.

His parents live next door to me, so the guy brought the log on a lowboy trailer to show them, and I took a few pictures. It was 22 feet long and 54 inches in diameter at the wide end. A solid piece, not hollow center.

I guess he’s having the log cut into lumber, but not sure about that. It was a really amazing, impressive piece of timber and conjured up all sorts of visions of the old lumbering days. The log was probably at least 100 years old when found and who knows how old it was when cut.

Teche News’ Lower St. Martin correspondent, Linda Cooke, can be e-mailed at lcooke9417@bellsouth.net.