September 15, 2018
I appreciate that you enjoy my stories. Although we were poor, we grew up in a rich environment in which our family fostered or forced (jeje) creativity. We were never allowed to sit around and do nothing or feel sorry for ourselves. Being poor did not hinder our creativity, in fact it enriched and stimulated it! And, boy did we have creative imaginations! If we didn’t have it, we attempted to make it! We could imagine something out of nothing, creating very verbal ingenious “chamacos” (youngsters). We played a lot of word games and from those words grew wild vivid stories. Old socks were fashioned into dresses for our dolls. Old sheds became a classroom or a business. The mere turning of the pages of a Sears and Roebuck catalog became a shopping spree to the mall as we selected our school wardrobe, and we pretend “shopped.” We attempted to ride goats in Polvadero (ranch where Mi Abuelito’s lived) imagining we were rodeo stars. We excavated as if we were archaeologists, digging for hidden treasures. And we always had our homemade carretones (go-carts) at our disposable to race down the hills. Polvadero was an expansive landscape with miles of playground for our young inquisitive developing minds. With goats, chickens, dogs and the occasional lamb and pig, we even had a pony (owned by the ranch owner). Mi Abuelito had a chicken incubator to hatch eggs that was very enjoyable for us kids to watch and learn. A large vegetable garden filled with zucchini’s, chilies, green onions, corn and tomatoes filled our kitchen and tummies. As I grew older, I seemed to gravitate toward the kitchen with Mi Abuelita, Elena. Thus initiating my passion for food.
Thank you Father