[Check out the sign on the tree]
I had lunch on Good Friday with some older cousins, two Cajun priests, and a friendly neighbor. They were all speaking French when I arrived.
"Continuez, s'il vous plaît!" I said, but they switched to English.
"It's not your Parisian French," they said.
Even when I was a child, it was still common to hear French in stores, but now it's so rare to be in a group of people who speak French that they are all out of practice.
They were all born in the 1920s or early '30s, and they are the last real generation of francophones in Louisiana. They were punished for speaking it in the schools, and their parents wanted them to speak English and be américains.
Dinner was a catfish courtbouillon-- fish is traditional on Good Friday in Louisiana-- followed by a fig and chocolate cake. The grace before the meal ended as always with "Ainsi soit-il." [Amen.]