cinco de mayo is still not mexican independence day.
and mostly, especially in monocultural locations like the woodsly goodness
it's a day for white people to wear sombreros and drink margaritas, i guess.
not for me, though.
i don't eff with alcohol.
but i sure as heck make a LOT of tacos.
i went with a batch of six for the fifth,
and i ate the hell outta every last one of 'em.
one more is always a good idea, y'know?
too much is the right amount.
that's a fact.
check 'em out:
we got a LOT of stuff on 'em.
and that's the right way to get into it, isn't it?
you'd best believe that's the only way, neighbors.
if you don't take the taco scene on your plate to eleven,
you're doing it wrong.
that's a fact.
y'see all that?
it's what you want.
it's what i've got:
lemme just tell you about how many coronas and margaritas
and modelos and dos equis is had:
that ain't me.
it's okay not to drink.
in fact, i'll never ever ever get on board with that bullsh!t.
but i go way harder on taco time than a lotta folks,
so maybe i'm at least doing something right.
what's on 'em?
well, you can see-
diced red chili.
shredded purple cabbage.
minced white onion.
and lime-soaked red-onion-activated quartered sweet baby tomatoes.
that's all the uncooked stuff.
and ALL of it is stacked on soft flour tacos.
rules is rules,
and those are the best ones and that means they're the only ones.
and that wasn't even everything.
i've got some black beans and corn-
that's half a cuppa beans and half a cuppa corn,
plus a tablespoon of cilantro stems, a couple of tablespoons of minced onion,
some cumin and ground coriander seed, black pepper, smoked paprika,
a splash of oil and a little pink salt, all stirred up and fried until the beans wrinkled a bit.
that's great stuff, for being so simple.
and of course, the big action was the pepper and onion packed,
buttery nootch-boosted GPOP and ho'sauce enhanced refried beans, bro.
all that stuff is awesome.
and when it all touches?...it's brilliant.
with fresh lime squeezed over 'em?
i ate them with enthusiasm.
i had to bury a whole lotta feelings underneath all those legumes.
six fattie-boombattie circles of super-stuffed softness did the trick.
and afterwards crabtree and i went for a woodsly car ride through the
backroads of this little vale.
it'd been a minute.
honestly, we used to crush a stumpy smoky smoggy stink-stick,
so it was a little weird, even after a year and a half to skip that part.
he was bored almost instantly,
and i was surprised to see how much had changed in this timeless forest realm.
when you just go home and stay home every single day for three seasons,
the landscape changes enough to be noticeable.
i had the fullest bellyhole,
and that weighed me down while i buried myself under blankets upon my return
to the Folk Life & Liberty Fortress.
i'm filling out a whole bunch of mothers day cards.
i LOVE cards.
when exactly did i become your great aunt?
man, i dunno.
but if i see a hella tight card, i gotta have it, and i gotta send it.
i had no idea i was getting so old.
but here i am with all these folded heavy paper messages,
and that's proof of it.
feelings and sentiments and written words.
that's my morning;
never quiet, never soft.....