He was born in the Dominican Republic and plays for Detroit….but the young relief pitcher might just be one of our own.
What do you say? Should we adopt Al Alburquerque?
He’s even got the extra r. I think we should.
Photo credit: Zimbio
I’ve ranted off an on over the years about the plaguey b*stards with fluffy tails that run roughshod over my yard, streets and power lines. They eat the insulation off of cables. They eat all the plants out of the ground. They eat all the apricots off my favorite tree (and holler at me when I try to pick a few so I can make a nice pie.)
In case I’ve been too mild on this topic, I’ll say it out clear: I hate squirrels.
So I smiled to myself when I saw this headline linked off of CNN.com: Give Squirrel a Whirl
Yes, you of tender tummy and mild disposition, they’re talking eatin’ squirrel on the Eatocracry blog.
“The general consensus was that it tasted more earthy and sumptuous than the darkest turkey they’d ever tasted”
Now, I may not actually want to have one of these somnabitches on my dinner plate, but I’ll certainly help with the supply chain. If this trend takes off, I’m sitting on a gold mine over here.
The only trouble is…The Good Man won’t let me fire a bb gun at the rodents. He says the neighbors might not approve…you know, owing to the fact that my bb gun aim has never been right.
Rodent, it’s what’s for dinner.
Here we are at Thursday again and that means it’s time for Theme Thursday fun.
This week’s theme is: Gossip
Or as a friend once said, “If you can’t say something nice, come sit by me.”
There are certain words that, for reasons I cannot explain, I just prefer to think of in Spanish. Chisme is just such a word. There is the relatively plain word “gossip” and then there is the inflection laden word “chisme.”
iDÃgame!
I would like to say I’m above all this chisme business. That I never sit in the passenger seat of a pickup with my best friend, Sonic sodas in hand, and cuss and discuss the world around us. I’d like to say I’m not like that, but I’d be lying.
I’m an eternal Nosy Nellie. I don’t like to get mean…I just like to know what’s going on. Call it insecurity. Call it envy. Call me irresponsible…just don’t call me late for dinner.
And let’s be honest, hasn’t Facebook just upped the ante on chisme? I mean, you can see what so-in-so is saying on their wall and then there’s the inevitable “did you SEE what she said?” or “did you SEE that picture?”
It used to be the biddies would pick up the party line and listen in on their neighbors (guilty as charged) but now it’s all out there on the interwebs.
I think it’s interesting, I looked up the etymology of the word gossip. Here’s what it said:
“The word is from Old English godsibb, from god and sibb, the term for godparents, i.e. a child’s godfather or godmother.”
Um, ok. I’m a godmother times three…so doesn’t that give me permission to cluck like a hen with all my girlfriends?
“The verb to gossip, meaning “to be a gossip”, first appears in Shakespeare.”
And I’m all literary and stuff, too!
Now…come on over….tell me, what’s the latest? You got any chisme for me?
“Don’t chat! Chatting leads to treason”
1941 Soviet era poster, used under Fair Use and found on Wikipedia
Over this past weekend, The Good Man and I got together to celebrate a belated Mother’s Day with my in-laws. It’s always nice to have a chance to catch up with family.
The place we chose to eat was a nice hotel with a Sunday buffet brunch and a live jazz trio to add ambiance.
The family all got dressed up and converged on the hotel. The jazz was lovely. The setting sublime. Mimosas were poured. Chatter happened. Then the waiter said “go ahead and get started” and we were off to wander around the wonderland of food.
I have to admit that at first I could only stumble about with an empty plate. I was both surprised and astounded by all the food.
Prime rib and pancakes, sushi and dim sum, a huge table of seafood of all varieties! And that was only the beginning.
One part of me was like “Yeah baby!” I could easily envision myself much like Cookie Monster, shoveling it all in there while grunting “ahm nom nom nom nom!”
But another part of me was almost turned off by the literal piles of food. Good lord! So much food! A first world problem, to be sure.
After walking around in a daze, I finally dove in. I made the conscious decision NOT to lay right down and devour the entire dessert table (it was tempting). Instead I chose only the things I knew for sure I’d like and in small amounts. I had to remind myself that I could return for more if needed. That ol’ demon self-control.
I think the key to a buffet is if you take something you don’t really care for…don’t eat it. Yes, I know for many the idea of wasting food is terrible, but in this scenario, it’s almost necessary.
In the past, I’ve had occasion to think about the “I have to get my money’s worth out of the buffet!” concept. This plagues a lot of people and causes the desire to eat as much as possible. This is fairly common, actually. I’ve personally succumbed to this thought.
To be honest, the cost of the buffet is less about how much one can eat and more about how many choices the establishment is able to provide. It costs money to have enough people to put on a spread like that.
A buffet is certainly a deliciously dangerous place for a food lover like me, but it’s also a boon for a food lover. A buffet provides a huge range of choices that I’d just never get with a traditional sit down and order off the menu type of meal.
It’s all about balance.
At the end of the day, the intent was to be with family, not Cookie Monster the entire meat carving station. Though the thought did cross my mind…
In one of those weird things that sticks with you over the years…
I remember that some dear friends of our family always subscribed to New Mexico Magazine. We’d go visit their beautiful adobe home in the Valley, and when the adult conversation would bore me, I’d pick up that magazine and flip through the pages.
New Mexico Magazine gave me a view on my home state that was much different than what I knew. I’d stare and stare at those amazing full color photographs of Native American jewelry, or locations around the state, or blue sky and clouds.
It was like my New Mexico, only better. I used to devour that magazine cover to cover.
When I became an adult, I started subscribing to New Mexico Magazine for myself. After my move to California, the magazine helped me get through pangs of homesickness. I’d dog ear pages of photos and articles that made me happy.
New Mexico Magazine has been a fixture in my life as long as I can remember. Today, I know something that the kid sitting on the floor in a beautiful adobe home in the Valley didn’t know.
I’ve been keeping a secret. I didn’t want to say too much in case it didn’t work out.
Now the secret can be told. I have permission to share my Very Big News:
I wrote three articles that have been accepted for publication in New Mexico Magazine.
Let me just pause here before I pass out.
Ok, I’m back.
The first article is slated for the June issue. Due out soon!
The other two are planned for the September/October timeframe. Since the magazine is undergoing some changes to the editorial staff, it’s a bit up in the air. I hope to know more soon.
All gratitude to Associate Editor Ashley Biggers (@ambiggers on Twitter) for opening the conversation and working with me through this process. She has a talent for developing writers, and I’m grateful for her patience.
I’m already working on a couple more ideas for upcoming articles. There is so much to know and explore about New Mexico that I’m excited to share.
This is a pretty big honor for a little girl from New Mexico.
Join me now in an epic rendition of the Happy Dance!
To properly celebrate, I wore my Fat Babies to work today. New Mexico in da hoouuuse! Image from Yippee Farms