Lots of stuff going on today not the least of which is the House Blond's birthday, a special day that she happens to share with legendary bluesman (come on, you can’t say bluesperson, it sounds idiotic) B. B. King and jazz great Charlie Byrd. Seven years old and already I want to tell her that Aunt Laura's right, boys are from hell. Time enough for that later I 'spose.That's Katie doing a walking hand stand (click to enlarge the image).
Seven years ago last night my better-half quietly dragged me out of bed because she CLAIMED she was having a baby. Being a guy and barely two hours into a sleep-induced coma, I was wallowing in the leftover dregs of Stage 4. So, of course, I argued with her. She had to be nuts, man, the baby wasn't due for weeks.
She hadn't even packed THE BAG, and so we hastily threw (literally) some stuff together, careened down the hill, and hotfooted it off to the hospital some 30 miles distant (yes, I remembered to bring Lisa). Despite driving like a madman, there was no police escort, because there's never a cop around when you need one. Miraculously, sometime approaching zero-dark-thirty the House Blond abruptly plopped into this world. Later that day That Boy would ask.....if it's Katie's birthday.....where's her birthday hat at? That night Jake and dad had our first father-son dinner and then smuggled some decent food to mom.
Not just that, but on this very day in 1620 the Pilgrims set sail from England bound for the New World. The timing always puzzled me even as a school kid. Were they betting it wouldn’t get cold and stormy? How bright was that? BTW, the pilgrims never dressed like you think. That whole clothing style was made up out of whole cloth (pun intended) much later in time and, sheesh, buckles hadn’t even been invented yet so forget about the shoes you thought those guys were wearing.
Wait, there's still more, Katie shares her special day with our neighbors to the south, Chile, and a handful of former banana republics in Central America, who, by now, are well into celebrating Independence Day (no guys, Cinco de Mayo is NOT Mexican Independence Day).
In Mexico, El Grito began last night with cries of Viva la Independencia and Viva Mexico, echoing Father Hildago's 1810 call for independence from Spain (he had the good sense to arrest all the local Spaniards before ringing the bell).
Many participants will dress in traditional garb (including TWC's favorite, the serape) and indulge in traditional foods such as mole poblano along with guacamole and chips during fiestas taking place all across Mexico.
May your weekend be reason enough to celebrate.
The Wine Commonsewer
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