Membrillos y Cajeta de Membrillo


September 13, 2019

I received an e-mail 

from Nativa, a 

beautiful line of Fair 

Trade clothes from 

Mexico. They are 

celebrating  September 

16,  and mention

nopales and quince in a 

fashion color context. 

I had not thought about 

quince (membrillo) for 

years. 

Mis Abuelitos had an 

árbol de membrillo in 

their backyard on Apple 

Street in Huron,

California. I recall the 

little blooms, their 

fuzzy skin and sweet 

scent of pineapple. 

As a child I didn’t 

understand them; it 

wasn’t a pear nor an 

apple. I didn’t like the 

astringent flavor

and I didn’t see any 

redeeming quality in 

them since I couldn’t 

eat them right off the 

tree, like other fruits. 

They were deceiving.

But, when Mi Abuelita,

Elena and Aunt Lupe 

made quince jelly. I’d go 

crazy for it. The jelly 

and paste were our 

candy and such a treat 

as children,  incredibly I 

still find that same joy 

as a grown woman. 

They would buy the 

quince paste at the 

Mexican markets in 

Fresno or they would 

bring back from Mexico 

on there occasional 

trips.

It is sweet and tart at 

the same time.  It

wasn’t  until much later 

I had it paired with 

Manchego cheese, a 

Spanish cheese made 

from unpasteurized 

sheep’s milk and one 

of my favorites. It is the 

perfect marriage of 

balance.

I recall in the wine 

industry, Manchego 

cheese and Cajeta de 

Membrillo were a 

common pairing at  Hug Cellars

and other wine events. 

Enjoy,

Thank You, Father

Abrazos y Besos

Frijoles, Arroz y Jesus Christ

June 10, 2019

Cuando as llorado 

como yo y tus 

hermanas te llaman La 

Llorona.

Las lagrimos se vuelven 

a sangre, que escurren 

en cuajarones de 

penas, sobre mi cuerpo.

De nina llore por mi 

papa y hoy por mi gente 

y por el mundo de ver 

tanto sufrimiento.

It pains me to see the 

homeless, to hear of 

child abuse, domestic 

violence, substance 

abuse, human 

trafficking 

como ruido volcánica 

en mi panza. 

Mi cabeza llena de 

caracoles  y estos 

caracoles tienen voz, 

gritan

y los huelo  

pudriandose, 

es un dolor muy 

profundo

oigo los huesos tronar 

como relampagos.

Yo marche, pelea, y 

luche  en los 70’s, por 

mejores derechos de 

humanidad

por mujeres

trabajos

igualdad y 

representación en 

todos sectos y niveles. 

I wanted to build not 

destroy.

Many years later……

I’ve had an epiphany

I wonder why? Por que 

luche?

Por muchos 

malagradecidos 

(ungrateful).

Silly me I thought, I was 

not only opening doors, 

pero tumbando 

puertas!

I see people 

demanding, I 

repeatedly hear “that 

they are owed.” A 

sense of entitlement of 

that degree is a 

sociopath trait!

No one owes us 

anything. Every second 

is a gift, from our Lord. 

Embrace it. 

Estoy de acuerdo, this 

country was built by 

immigrants. But, I do 

not agree with rioting, 

burning, destroying, 

demanding your way 

into a country. We 

selected this country 

voluntarily, because we 

enjoy our rights and 

freedom here. But, you 

want to change it to 

satisfy your needs? The 

significance of this 

population cannot be 

ignored in American 

society. What do we do 

with 11 to 12 million 

undocumented 

workers. 

I want you to know I 

speak from personal 

experience. I have lived 

the immigration 

experience, this is not 

something I have read 

about. And, I agree the 

majority of immigrants 

are great people in 

search of a better life.

But, growing up I saw

the lies, of “getting over 

the man mentality,” the 

cheating of the system,  

people receiving two or 

more government 

checks under different 

names.  I saw it all; the 

crimes and criminal 

behaviors.

Me parte el Corazon, to 

see the level of violence 

on TV, to see the hate, 

rage and violence. Your 

anger is misdirected! 

We need to engage in 

communication not 

destruction!

Defenders always try to 

present themselves as 

compassionate people 

who care for the 

underprivileged. They 

characterize Capitalism 

as a dog-eat-dog 

system that produces 

inequities, with great 

disparities between the 

rich and the poor.

I believe in helping 

people in need or the 

poor.  I give to 

organizations, 

churches and social 

welfare organizations 

that provide food and 

clothing. 

But, I do so “willingly” 

as an expression of my 

love of Jesus. No one 

forces me to do so. And, 

that is the key 

difference. I do not 

want government to 

“force” me to do so!

As my strands of hair 

turn silver I’d rather 

focus on my 

relationship with my

Lord, grow herbs, cook

and travel with Mi 

Corazon.

I long of smelling the 

sweet aromas of wet 

rain, of sweet lavender 

fields and freshly 

mowed grass……. of 

people coexisting 

happily and respecting 

each other.

Not, caracoles 

pudriéndose  en mi 

cabeza.

The Lion of Serengeti or When Machismo Becomes Violent!

August 13, 2019

I was twelve years old, and the men were lined up against the street, near Lassen Market verbally harassing me with catcalls in Spanish, “oye Chula que bonita estas” as I walked rapidly to run errands for Mi Mama en route to the grocery store or post office.
They looked at me as if I were a juicy steak instead of an innocent child.