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Fiesta Time

I help teach English as a Second Language one night a week at my church. I figure if God has blessed me with a gift of teaching, then I should use it.  So I try. 

The students in the class are adult learners, with a huge amount of courage. My heart goes out to them because I know what a great challenge this is, and that they are doing it to better their lives and the lives of their families.

For our Thanksgiving holiday celebration, we had a fiesta!  

Everyone brought a dish. 

A potluck if you will. 

As the students meandered in, bearing their platters, bowls, and such, they brought great joy and smiles with them.  In the Hispanic culture, food is a big deal.  They find it insulting if you do not accept food that they offer.  Keep in mind, this is not Tex-Mex, like I’m accustomed to, this is good home-cooked, authentic Mexican food.   I try to stay away from Menudo or anything that may be made from bovine intestines.

As the plates were uncovered, revealing an assortment of great smelling foods, I could pick out a few familiar items.  Among the recognizable were Chile Rellanos, rice, enchiladas, and fajitas.  I gravitated towards those. 

One of the students wanted me to try her dish.  A fajita-type thing-a-majigie.  With her hand gestures, thick accent, and broken English,  she explained to me to begin with a corn tortilla, put a lot of beef on it, add a little cabbage, and a little cilantro, and a little caliente sauce. 

I finished filling my plate and sat down to eat.  Everything was good, but the fajita dish was my favorite.  I nibbled on the other things, but hoovered the fajita. 

When the meal was finished, and we were cleaning up, another teacher was talking to the fajita cook. 

That’s when I discovered, (gulp), that it wasn’t beef after all, (big gulp), that the delicious, succulent, tender meat that I piled onto my tortilla, and ate with great enthusiasm, was after all, (gulp),

tongue.

Tongue.

TONGUE!!

Just in case you didn’t catch all that. 

I ate tongue!

And I loved it!
Will I do it again? 
Not on your life.
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Help!

This is my nephew Maxx.  (the one chewing on his bib)

This is my husband Jason. 

This is the first time I’ve ever seen Jason hold a baby.

This is probably the last time, I’ll ever see Jason hold a baby.

Neither one of them look like they’re enjoying it much, do they?
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Day After Thanksgiving Blues—a poem—-a very crude poem

This morning I woke up to see,
The bathroom scales lying at me.

Up five pounds, that can’t be right,
The pumpkin pie had Cool Whip light!

Elastic’s now my new best friend.
Buttons and snaps, never again.

There’s nothing left to do but wish,
I hadn’t eaten that eleventh dish.

If I don’t get my butt in gear,
I’ll  be the butterball next year.

The kitchen looks like a tornado hit,
Facebook’s calling, I’ll just sit.

Dirty dishes pile the sink,
Toss ’em out and buy more I think.

The turkey carcass is out back,
A special treat for an alley cat.

The family fight I did endure,
four weeks till Christmas, then some more.

I’m not a poet, you will find,
Tryptophan has clogged my mind.

by Angel aka Butterball

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Rest, Refresh, Refocus

Okay.  So I had a mini-nervous breakdown yesterday. 

I lashed out.

I’m better now.

It’s just that things are a bit overwhelming to me right now.

My toenails need clipping.

My mustache needs waxing. 

Yes,  my mustache.  My loving brother told me a few years back that I better hurry up and find a husband before my mustache got any thicker.  That’s when I decided I’d better tend to it.  Thanks Steve-O, you helped me catch a man.  I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.

And if that is how neglected my body and hygiene is, you don’t even want to think about my fridge. 
Don’t go there.

I have a to-do longer than Santa’s naughty list, and to top it off, Ashlynn wants to make cookies. 

When life becomes so stressful, and I need a vacation from it, I’m reminded of Matthew 11:28.
Come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  This translates to I will refresh you.  It continues  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for you souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

I’m reminded of when Jesus walked on the water.  The disciples had gone out in the boat.  Jesus had told them to, but he didn’t go with them.  He knew a storm would come before he sent them out.  He sent them anyway.  He was on the other side and we’re told He saw them toiling, straining at the oars because the wind was against them.  Jesus sees our toil, our labor, and our work.  He’s there to help us through storms.

I’m reminded of a time when Jesus and the disciples needed to get away.  The crowds had been pressing into them.  He needed solitude, serenity, and peace.  He went away from the people for a time to spend with the Father.  Mark 6:31 says in red letters:  Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.

So that’s what I did.  I went away to a quiet place and spent time with the Father.  He granted me rest and refreshing. 

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  It is my most favorite holiday.  But there’s a lot to do.

So I’m going to go bake some cookies, clean out my fridge, and clip my toenails.  Not necessarily in that order.

Blessings,

Angel

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Serenity Now!

My life is hectic lately. 
And I don’t like it.
I like peace and serenity.
I go visit the cows.
Aw, serenity.
The soft moos.
The whisper of the breeze through the bluestem grass.
The sweet suckling at the teet.
 The pictures of nature.
Aw,serenity.
Deep breaths.
Calmness in my soul.
Until Jason cusses.
See all these black ones?  And that charolais?  (pronounced shar-lay; that would be the white one)
See how they aren’t red?
They don’t belong here. They belong to the neighbor. They’ve busted through the fence. They think the grass is greener here.
It’s not.
It’s dead here too.
That creates more work for Jason.
That makes him mad.
All the cows in this pasture should be red. 
Like this pair:  a momma and her baby.

But this pair?  There’s something in the woodpile here.

This one has a booger.  It happens.  One of my second grade students needed two kleenexes, and announced “I have a lot of boogers.”  It just happens.

It’s still cute.
Serenity again.
 And then…..
these two.
They face off.
They go head to head,
 and toe to toe.
They kick up some dirt.
And some more.
ENOUGH!!!!  I scream.  Q—U–I—E—T!!!!! 
Aw, serenity.
Then we just lie in the pasture, and enjoy the day.
It doesn’t get much better than this.
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Who I Am.

I’m a loner.

I’m a homebody.

I’m a recluse, if you’ll let me.

I’m an introvert.

Thanksgiving.

I’ve got a lot to be thankful for.

I’ve got five days off.

I want to be left alone for five minutes.

Can the phone stop ringing?

Please.

Can anyone relate to this?

Anyone??  Besides me and Henry David Thoreau?

Some people are recharged by others.

Not me.

I’m exhausted by them.

They wipe me out.

Plumb out.

I need to be alone to be recharged.

It’s who I am.

I can’t apologize for it.

I can’t deny it.

I can’t pretend.

That’s just me.

Thank you for listening.

Now, LEAVE ME ALONE!!

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WARNING: Bovine Porn

Hey Jason, whatcha doin’?

Checkin’ for springers.

What’s a springer?

A cow that’s gettin’ close to calving.

How can you tell she’s ready?

Any questions?

Ladies who are reading this blog:

And you think your backside looks bad??
I don’t care who you are, this has got to make you feel better about yourself!