Happy Cinco de Mayo! Which celebrates the Mexicans winning a war against the French, I think. But, like any other holiday, the celebrating comes down to food and drink. So some favorite Mexican food it is! This is at Taqueria Nueve, which I sorely missed during its five year absence, even though Tapalaya, also one of my favorite places, lives in its old location.  In particular, the Coctel del Pulpo, a sweet and spicy bit of ambrosia, haunted me. I literally had dreams about it and sought a replacement hither and yon, to no avail. I am most grateful I can get it once more, along with a mighty fine chile relleno and vegetarian tacos. Arriba!

On to La Taq (no website, but next door to Podnah’s and from the same owner), which is really Tex-Mex, but, to me, Mexican food is all in the family. They have super green chile, fantastic tacos, and a pretty spectacular queso, too. Unfortunately my food photos are blurry, probably because I was too hungry and excited to sit still. The kindly bartender is shaking my margarita, my favorite in town, I might add, with the perfect balance of sour and sweet. It’s pretty snazzy!

And back to Mi Casa. The hubster and I had a serious New Mexican food craving yesterday, so we walked to the market for provisions and whipped up a feast. There was green chile, of course, brown rice, smoky garlicky beans, guacamole, and home made tortillas, rolled into gut busting burritos. All turned out muy, muy delicioso, though my Dad would probably be disappointed to learn that I didn’t have any meat in mine. The older I get, the more vegetarian my leanings. Life is full of surprises!

P.S. I almost forgot! Have you tried Xochitl chips? Oh my goodness, they are the best. Thin and crispy, just like the package says and seriously good! A chip gone to heaven and back, maybe. The only problem? I feel like I’m cheating on the glistening chips made in Hood River with these Texas Wranglers. Sorry!

Tags: ,

Music

The earth has music for those who listen.

George Santayana

Tags:

 

I am eating a bowl of spicy roasted red pepper and tomato soup, home made lickety split quick in the Vitamix. I love that machine. For some reason I’ve been craving tomato soup for days. Then, we visited our neighbors yesterday, and they gave me a packet of saltines from Hawaii. Saltines! How could I not make soup to go with them? Aside from slathering them with yellow mustard and topping with a sardine, this is their purpose in life according to Colleen Sohn. It is a fine one, I might add, almost holy.

Out in the side yard, this is happening. Verbascum (or mullein) in bloom! It looks so pretty. It’s also earlier than I remember, which is a sweet surprise.

There are a multitude of mushrooms all over the place!

I sure do love the dappled shade of the side yard, run riot with blooming wild strawberries. Here’s hoping we get a good crop this year.

Though there will likely be competition with the squirrels, possum, birds, and this cute bunny to eat them! I don’t know if she (or he, I have no idea) belongs to anyone, having spied her in the street near our house a few times over as many months. She raised one ear while I was talking to her, then approached to sniff my hand. We’ll just have to see if the friendship blossoms. Maybe if I give her a carrot?

Loss

It is spring, truly, with the whole of Portland dressed in dewy emerald and swaths of effervescent flowers, all happiness and wonder and so very much pink. All is happening under spectacularly swift skies, rolling and roiling with clouds one minute and bright beams of sun the next.

I watch from the window mostly, bound to my bed. The pain is easier now, eleven days post surgery, but it is still wholly present, a dull, quiet insistence. It is bossy, too, and gives directions. I may not move too quickly, nor may I stretch, nor lie on my side with the hubster spooned to my back. Simple pleasure, that, but I must wait for it. I am patient. So we kiss and lace our fingers together and press our limbs in parallel. I smell the sweetness of his beard. I smooth his hair when I cannot sleep.

And I ponder this body of mine. It is not perfect. It does what it pleases, despite my occasional pleading, diligent exercising, and imperfect efforts to eat wisely and healthfully. Gratefully, I no longer blame myself for all that has happened, for all that is wrong, for all that I cannot change. But there are times when I see a pregnant woman, a wee babe in someone’s arms, or, better yet, smell that sweet baby scent, and I crumple a little inside. My body, and her organs of femaleness, could never make this wonder that is life, heart pumping, with fingers and toes and silky soft skin. I didn’t ever want a child or to be a mother but did want to know that I could. To feel that the choice was mine. The loss is acute, but luckily, the pain waxes and wanes.

Tags:

Delight

We do not believe in ourselves until someone reveals that deep inside us something is valuable, worth listening to, worthy of our trust, sacred to our touch. Once we believe in ourselves we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight or any experience that reveals the human spirit.

E.E. Cummings

 

Tags:

« Older entries § Newer entries »