Thursday, March 25, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
This will be the first year after two “go-green, drink free, have fun” bashes, that I have the time to think about what makes me feel Irish, even though I am not (and for the record, it has been a family urban legend since I can recall, our Irish inheritance that is).
This year I am away, alone, working, after two extremely intense weeks full of traveling, life-changing events and deep feelings. Thinking about the luck of the Irish, the Irish –Celtic rock and folk music I love so much and the energy those tunes bring me; my restless Irish terrier always ready to play and up for some hugs; Boston and the Red Sox (and how close we are for opening season!), of the Irish pubs and their live music, Celtic dances, stout beer and sharp cheddar. Remembering the sad movies and books about how difficult life has been for the Irish, forcing them to migrate away from their own country and make their own luck, but staying together and keeping the faith. Surfing all those mental images I have of the feisty Irishman, full of courage, pride, tradition, loyalty and passion, never giving up, always up for more, ready for the next fight. Not always right, but with the conviction of their own ideals that makes them strong.
That is my idea of being Irish, that’s what makes me feel like one: the fact that I want to fight for what I want and enjoy every minute of it, to keep up with the challenges every day bring, to never let go and recover fast from the falls, because I don’t want to waste my life making plans for when the time is right. Feel happy even with the smallest things, only because they make me smile; never to ease my passionate mind but always slow down to aim right. Trust in my instincts, follow my heart and keep the faith. Not to be afraid of love, express it, share it and let it flow back. That’s the spirit I want to have. That’s what I want to be… to always remember, to never forget…that it’s all up to me.
Happy St. Patrick ’s Day!
Monday, March 8, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
En cada viaje vimos como agregaron secciones, desde el asador y la capilla, hasta el hotelito casero; sus mesitas siempre bien vestidas de manteles plásticos blancos con manchas negras cual lindas vaquitas, sus saleros, servilleteros y adornos campiranos, todos con el tema ya característico de las vacas contentas. En cada temporada el menú va cambiando y generalmente es recitado verbalmente – variando desde los tamalitos hasta el bistec. No podían faltar las aguas frescas y el café colado (bien cargado y prieto por el azúcar quemada). Sencillo parador cuya otra característica es la de nunca pagar más de 100 pesos de cuenta, no importa que se pida ni cuanto se coma; la teoría que más nos gusta ante ese fenómeno es la limitante de conocimientos matemáticos de las amables meseras, cuya capacidad les permitiría contar, bueno pues, sólo hasta cien.
Eggs mess orderlies ………………………huevos revueltos