...the night is young

We say that in Puerto Rico, the night is young. Meaning we still have a lot of partying to do. Believe it or not we do a party about anything. Food, music, dancing if you want, drinking (it is what it is) and in communion with each other, specially after you have been doing it for a very long period of time, everyone is a brother and a sister no matter what. We all know each others idiosyncracies (did I get the spelling right? I struggle with this one) and we jokingly refer to them all the time so your "specialness" or what makes you who you are, or what others would refer to as your "faults" is accepted by what a dear friend calls "the tribe." They are special and to refer to them as "my people" would be extremely accurate. The thing about this relationship within my tribe is that we accept each other unconditionally with our "specialness" and our real specialness, if you catch my drift.

The night is young. I am dressed up and not going anywhere. But I do look pretty. Did my nails, my feet, my hair, my makeup, my legs, and have been feeling pretty special myself. Cleaning, dancing, Besides feeling pretty (whether I am or not), I am happy and savoring the moment. Cleaning slowly all the intensity of the past 3 weeks of recovery from my frozen shoulder. Stay unfrozsn shoulder please! Anyway, life is good and that is what is of importance here. Have literally turned the TV off and turned the CD player on! Started to read the NYT and that was not a good experience so I continued to dance and clean and sing at times, in what I consider to be an intense and emotinal voice, exactly ss the one I used to make fun of, my mother's. The reason I am dressed up is that I was going out alone into the world to go eat something at a nice restaurant, Coconut Grove or Mary Brickell, but I got a call from a friend from Puerto Rico that lives in Orlando that just got back from Puerto Rico and wanted to tell me about our old stumping grounds when we were in high school, and we talked for about 45 minutes. Then it was about 10:30 and as I hung up the phone rang again and it was my cuban friend that is moving to Houston, she lives in Hialeah and I had to go pick up something from her house. So then it was midnight and I did not want to go anywhere at that point. But it does not matter because I have enjoyed every minute of this day and on the way to Hialeah I played my favoite CD of Marc Anthony and I was feeling it all the way there! There is so much passion in the Puertorican music that stirs me immensely. I am going to translate a song for you so you all can hear the power of the lyrics. Give me time. And that would only be the lyrics, because the music itself is unbelievable.

So here I am at your disposition and welcome to my home. Home is where the heart is and in this blog you can feel my heart and soul, if you read it of course.

Stayed tuned, tomorrow I am BAKING! Yes, Oscar (my PR friend who loves it) I am making banana, cranberry, nut bread! So all of you who get some of this batch, consider yourselves loved, not only loved, but loved dearly by the Chef!