Hola, Fiesta!

It's been a very busy morning so far and it's barely 9:30AM.  Sis and Wigman have already had two different sets of pest control people here and they think that means they have friends over to play.  One guy is doing the annual termite check and the other guy is doing the usual quarterly service.  Sis loves it when they are here but gets real mad that it means she has to stay inside for 45 minutes while the chemicals dry.  Soooooo not good-- especially when this is the perfect time of day for squirrel hunting.  Alas, she is sitting sadly on the mat by the patio door, peering out, w-a-y pissed off, with the doggie door blocked. 

In a moment of clarity, after yesterday's announcement of the recent findings of HRT and increased chances of later stage breast cancer and death from it, I pulled myself off of mine.  I was leaning that way anyway, but yesterday's announcement just tripped my switch.  That, and close friends who have had recent diagnoses.  I figure why push my luck.  Yeah, right, and when that first greasy hot flash hits me like a hormonal tsunami, remind me this was my choice. Sleeping naked as a jay bird in January, with the windows wide open??  It could happen.  I'm feeling sweaty just thinking about it.

Because I had a wild hair to make sour cream chicken enchiladas, I went to my first Fiesta grocery store yesterday and I swear....the store was divided down the middle with an imaginary line with westernized products on one side and more Hispanic ones on the other. When I asked the Dairy guy for Crema in my best Spanglish accent, he took one look at me and kind of laughed.  Hey....I said it with an accent and everything.

Two other ladies helped me find the right one since there are at least three versions.  Who knew??  Then, I went to the area marked Tortillera and asked if they had fresh ones (tortillas)--the ones I saw were like hockey pucks.  The lady behind the counter said "No" and I was about to ask "what the HELL TORTILLERA means ", when two other lunching ladies overheard and told me where the fresh, still warm in the bag ones could be found.  Ohhhhh, man.  White corn, yellow corn.... all in bags that were toasty to the touch.  I had to buy the big bag since they didn't have fresh ones in a smaller bag.  Then Mrs. Maria, our family's right arm, dropped off fresh ones this morning from her favorite tortilla place since I had asked her where to get them fresh.  Again, still warm and sweating in the bag.  O- O- O la la.....   I'm guessing we now have, roughly, enough fresh corn tortillas to shingle our roof.   So if you need some, let me know.  I have plenty.