First off, let me begin this post with an apology if there are more spelling or syntax errors within these posts de Mexicana, but I have only occassional wi-fi and once I write my heart out and send it off, it's not getting opend again for inspection. ¿Vivo en poco, no? Besieds, how can I edit these living dreams that are happening around me lol. There's no rewind in this life, and if it's one thing that my struggle with the linguistics of this city have taught me, it's that I'm reminded again and again how happy that I've been to be sharing this experience, regardless of joy inhibitors like tehse.
"They" say a person only needs to see the correct letters, however arranged, to grasp it's meaning. Try it out by creating a secret note for a whippersnapper in your life. You'll earn some cool points for having a secret code, and you'll find out just where your kid stands on the richter scale of figuring things outedness. Picture your next slumber party with passed notes about who likes who and what lip gloss is best. Note to moms- writing notes is a quiet time activity- as in, when they are writing, you get some quiet! Unless your kid needs you to spell out every letter for them still (Rainie).
Today's interactions began with a bang... more like a firm knocking in actuality, but to my dreaming state of mind it seemed like the walls are crashing down emergency rousing kind of banging accompanying my father's query of whether I was awake yet or not. Yes! I shouted with eyes fighting for alertness. Cleared the frog from my throat and again shouted YES! As I sprang for the door I could already hear is retreating footsteps on the stone tile floor, heading towards the enclosed back yard. "Breakfast is ready," he called over his shoulder without breaking a stride. Back to my room I went after peaking through the entrance to the outdoor area and thankfully gathering enough sense to go back for shoes. As you know from my post-cruise review, struggling for awarness at oh'dark-thirty has consistently proven not to be a problem of mine. However, the day before had finally cast a sleep shadow far enough for me to dream under and I was unusually reluctant to step into the light again.
Herein I discovered the problem: it wasn't even light out! Now, in our house it is a rare treat to sleep past 7 am. Since before Rainier's conception I had my morning routine of rising early established. Some people are not great at mornings, but I am, and its even become a Saturday morning treat of mine; getting up even earlier to enjoy a couple quiet hours writing up blog posts and making myself all fancified for a day at work. I often tell people, if I'm already laying there thinking of things I could be doing, I might as well get up and DO.
While inhabiting my womb, Rainier also showed an early affinity for rising early. At around 6 months of gestation she was doing the flutter kick to the left of my belly button every morning before my alarm had gone off. Fast forward 5 years and she is still the first one popping open her big blue eyes to greet the day with an exclamation of, "It's Day!" Cute, right? Every day. At 6 am or earlier...I trained her well! / Well, I trained her. Per my earlier info share, t's all about the arrangement hahaha.
Speaking of arrangement, yesterday I learned that the name of the town of Tenamaxtlan has a name originating from a word that means, "to cook between three stones," and this morning I was somwhat surpised to find my father with the small fire, three blocks surrounding it, and the grate with carne sizzling away on top. WITH tortillas fresh made the night before...Hell to the ya-ah! You can bet your flip flop I was grubbing on that fresh from the fire goodness. Even if it was dark as, um, night! out there. I couldn't help but think of my sisters as I returned to my room satiated from the visiting and the wonder at having been roused so early still fogging my thoughts. On the door to the guest room I'm inhabiting is a metal inset of a crown with three points on it... perhaps this is thier room? I mused... was this designed for them especially, and also how happy they would be for me to know that I was being treated like a real Jalisco princess should be lol.
I had mentioned going for a jog in the early morning, but dawn had yet to peak over the horizo so instead I turned my attention to the cobwebs. At home I take a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing that when I see a chore that needs to be done, I tend to take care of it asap. True, sometimes its more like an "intend" that gets over looked for a while, like dusting cobwebs, but there are certain days I dedicate to tasks like laundry and vaccuuming well as daily reminders to do the dishes. No really, I'm a list maker and I literally write that down twice just to have something mundane give me a sense of accomplishment. I'm also the supreme scheduling natzi so I mark off and make note of spring cleaning catagories for a bunch of activites I can involve the kids in. Grab that old toothbrushe you've been dying to get your hands on and you can pretend to be Cinderella scrubbing the floor, honey! No, you may not do it for longer than a half hour, what do you think this is, the fun factory (Rainie)?
Dawn came and went and still no sign of mi abuelita. She finally appeared in her doorway and from what I could interpret from her body language was just as happy to see me as I was her. Once again there was a lot of squeezing and signs of contentment from us both. Again I shared a lovely me-n-gramma moment over NesCafe and a sweet biscuit.
Tired from her medications, she took a little nap while I changed out of my work jeans and into a more Sunday appropriate outfit. Domingo esta los diez mi tia vive la casa de mi abuela. We knew to expect her but did not have confirmation of this, only that it would be after ten o'clock if at all. I took the extra time to snap a few heritage photos (sounds better than I photo-stalked my sleeping grandmother lol). Shots of her hands folded in her lap, the right angle of her frail body in repose, and evidence of the aforementioned black threaded wispy silver hair pulled back in a delicate french braid.
Just after I put my cosmetics away and gathered my spanish phrase book, she awoke and feigned embarrassment. Comprendo la repunacia at growing old, a sentiment unfortunately voiced by so many of the people who parented the baby boomers I love. It's not easy, and that's a fact. However, there are certain parts of us which do not have to age, and one of those is our heart's capacity, which can grow immensely, continuing to nourish a soul even as it's shell decays. I completely understand the need for rest, so much that I have indulged my children with nightly sleep ins long after I told myself I'd want to, and was overjoyed when she layed her silver head on my shoulder to complete her snooze.
Another banging on a metal entry door by la otra hijo de mi abuela, y el hermano de mi padre, Gonzalo. A lot of times you hear on the radio that people are leaving Mexico to come to Los Esatdos un Americanos but after over 35 years, he and his wife Olivia decided to return to thier home town, and they live just up el calle, across from mi hermana Cynthia. What a welcome surprise, even if it did abrupty end our siesta :-)
Right away he asked me about my Uncle Tommy whom he worked with in his first days of working in America. My entire family rotated through the staff of a restaurant off South Tacoma Way that went by the name of Sambo's. You may be familiar with the contemporary and renamed version; Cattin's. My mother and father met there and my grandma eventually retired from a waitressing career- did you know that was an actual thing that can happen? There's no pension or anything, unless you've been saving your tips as she aways did.
Over the pictures I brought, we shared the results of the paths our lives had taken and he lovingly adored each photo of my sweet girls, our log home, and thier hardworking father. Finally, I was able to speak without faltering too much and could use all that Spanglish I'd been working on, what a confidence booster! There is a lot to be said for a person who is bilingual helping an eager learner like me- they can at least attempt to understand what I'm trying to say using my limited vocabulary. As he and his brother headed into the man cave/garage to catch up, I was thanking God for the story he had shared about reconnecting with my aunt Patricia around the year of 1990, about how beautiful a person she was from the heart out, and how he could tell I was the same kind of person.
In every family there is usually one of us who seems to concentrate on keeping the familial bonds strong. On knowing which weddings, babies, and surgeries are planned, and occassionally feeding the goosip mill to boost the connections. That person for us was definately my Aunt Trisha. Since her passing two years ago, it has been my pleasure to take on her role via facebook stalking my cousins and informing my grandma of the latest and greatest tidbits I've discovered during my "research."
Together abuelita y yo set about to make a little lunch of sopa de arroz. Take a half stick of margarine and melt, saute rinsed, uncooked rice until slightly browned, add fresh chopped onion, add water, raise heat, stir, cover, and... walk away?! A watched pot never boils, but this one already was, and at our house, that usually hearalds a boil over of the most horrific sticky rice kind. Gazing out the back window after capturing some pics of the stone sink en la cocina, my eyes picked out a neon green nerf ball. Or is it- yes, it is- a fallen lime from the tree pointed out to me the afternoon before.
My next lesson was in the preparacion de el frugo de limones. Add sugar, water, and the hand squeezed juice of three limes in a large pitcher, stir, and enjoy. ¡Muy delicioso!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless 4G LTE smartphone
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