It is the Last Day of 2008

It’s the last day of 2008. Looking back on the year I continue to be an optimist. We had our 401(k)s go down the drain, gasoline prices went to heights never imagined, fires in California were devastating, etc. But, as little orphan Annie sang, “Tomorrow, tomorrow is a day away.”


2009 will start with grandson’s first birthday on the 8th of January. He visited with us for a week during Christmas, and we miss his not being here. He is such a charmer, not yet walking, but can crawl faster than his abuela can keep up with him.

Grandson--all boy!

For the first time in several years we were able to bring our entire California family together for Christmas day. We did our traditional toast before sitting down to enjoy a repast of ham, turkey and all the sides, salads and trimmings. I am always afraid that there will not be enough food, but, of course, there are always many left overs—glad to have two refrigerators for these occasions.
 

 

 Our California Clan

So tonight, New Year’s Eve, we will quietly watch the new year come in on television as we have done for many years.


I remember when I was a child that Mom and Dad always looked forward to celebrating New Year’s Eve by going to some dance in Corpus Christi with a big-name band from Mexico or from the US. Since my dad did not drive, they always got together with one or more married couples. My sis and I would stay home with my grandmother or great grandmother. When Mom and Dad would get home from the dance I would already be asleep, but in the morning we would find the party hats and noisemakers that had been distributed at the dance. What confused me was that in the movies people always made lots of noise as the new year came in, and my sis and I could not make noise even with the newly acquired noisemakers because Mom and Dad were still asleep. Even if I went outside to play with the noisemaker, I could not get excited that it was a new year.

Great To Be Back--Christmases On My Mind

I am feeling so out of it because I have not posted since Hubby's birthday almost a month ago. I was not well since the day after Thanksgiving, but thankfully I am on the mend. I am certainly looking forward to Christmas because Grandson comes to visit us.

I have done most of my Christmas shopping. Gift giving this year will be modest--the economy being what it is. We have been to several Christmas parties already, and it was great to see and visit.

The Retired Public Employees Association Chapter in Orange County collected toys to be distributed to the children of the encarcerated. This is the second year we do this. Our president is a former policeman who works with the charity St Vincent de Paul in organizing the gift-giving event for the children.

The program Ability First had their Christmas party last Saturday afternoon. The menu was pizza from Costco. I joked that pizza from Pizza Hut was better, but I don't think the organizers thought I was being funny, until I revealed that Son works at Pizza Hut, and has worked there for over 18 years. We left that party before Santa arrived. Two and a half hours of loud music had given me a headache, and we needed to get "refreshed" for the next party.

 

Hubby and Son at Ability First Party

Hubby has been retired since 1997, but the math department teachers have stayed in touch since before his retirement. One of the math teachers (who retired several years earlier than Hubby) has been hosting a potluck for the math department teachers and spouses for at least 12 or 14 years on the second Saturday of December. Our group may be diminishing, but we hope to keep the tradition going for as long as we can.

 

Our gracious hosts!

I have been working on our Christmas newsletter this past week. There are still some I cannot reach by email, so I printed thirty copies to snail mail. Most of the others on my list are on my email address book, so hopefully they were able to read what I sent. Hubby  and I have been Mac people since day one. Although we tolerate Windows, we do not really do Windows. My first attempt at sending my newsletter did not go well. My choice for a font was probably not the easiest to translate to Windoz and then I probably had too many photos. Anyway, instead of sending the newsletter as a Word document, I saved it as a pdf file, hopefully everyone has Adobe Reader. If you are still having trouble reading my newsletter, please let me know. The central figure in our year of 2008 was, of course, our handsome Grandson.

As I think back of Christmases past, I think one of my favorite ones was when Sis and I were attending parochial school at St Anthony's in Robstown. For "Misa de Gallo" (literally the Mass of the Rooster--because of the wee hours) we were angels in costumes of white and glitter. We were two of about twenty girls, but I felt so special in my halo and wings. We walked up the aisle to the altar where the nativity scene had been mounted. The entire church smelled of cut trees that my dad had donated for the altar.

I remember the ritual of kissing the icon of the baby Jesus. Father Dunne held the baby and we all lined up as if to receive communion. Father had a napkin or handkerchief that he wiped the last person's kiss before the next one came to kiss the baby's leg. Were we fearful of transferring germs? We never gave it a thought. Our faith was so sincere that such ideas never crossed our minds.

After Mass we went home on Avenue D. I think we all walked home. Everyone used to walk everywhere--neither Mom nor Dad drove a car. Since it was after midnight, Sis and I discovered that Santa Claus had visited our house. We each got a pair of roller skates. Have I ever mentioned that my sister and I always received identical gifts, and we wore identical dresses all the time? Mom's idea of being fair was to be identical. Later, in our teens, Sis and I decided equal did not have to be identical.

Neither my sister nor I ever had a bicycle. Even though there were "girl" bicyles, Mom assured us that bikes were not ladylike and therefore, not for us. We were happy with our skates, but the street was unpaved (had caliche top), and our front yard had a narrow sidewalk about 15 feet long, at the most. The skates were the kind that had a key to tighten around the sole of your shoe. We learned to skate anyway in our carefree days.

Today is Hubby's Birthday

 

This cute chubby baby was born in Gainesville, Texas a few years back. His grandmother, holding him and known to him as Mammaw was born in Tennessee, married in Oklahoma when it was still Indian Territory, and passed away in Texas when she was nearly 90 years old. My Hubby comes from good stock.

Even though this is Hubby's birthday, I thought I would write about his Mammaw Zettie. I met her shortly before I was to marry into the family, and I knew her for a very short time, but we hit it off right away. She was already about 87 years old, but wanted to give us a wedding present. 

So she took scraps of yarn and covered coat hangers. We still have and use these coat hangers, and remember Mammaw's loving hands. The picture has only a sampling of the "yarned" coat hangers.

 

The Good and Bad Tamales

You can tell the holidays are here because El Pollo Loco has tamales on their menu. It must be the proverbial optimist in me that each year surrenders to the temptation of the seductive picture on the menu. Every year I have been disappointed. Well, this year was not an exception. I tried the single tamal on a small salad and a splash of sauce on top. I could not even eat half of it. It was too spicy and there was hardly any chicken. Maybe next year will be different.

One of my very earliest childhood recollections is related to my negative experience with tamales. I don’t know how old I was, but probably a toddler. It must have been Christmas eve or at least Christmas season. I remember being at my grandmother’s house (we lived right next door). It was Mama Mere who handed out tamales to us children, and then she went back to the kitchen, I guess. As I now know, tamaladas were social occasions to gather and chat with the other women while tackling the labor intensive chore of making tamales.


Anyway, I tried to bite the tamal that had been given to me, but it was too tough. I did not even like the feel of this tamal in my mouth, so I decided to take it back to the kitchen. I announced to the women in the kitchen, “A mi no me gustan los tamales con hoja.”


Everyone broke out in laughter. Of course that made me feel worse, but it was then that I learned that the tamal needed to shed the hoja—the cornhusk cover—before consumption. Mama Mere then showed me which was the proper way to attack the tamal.

Growing up, I know I must have heard this story of my experience with tamales over and over again. I know Mom used to repeat it to me anytime that tamales came up in the menu or conversation.


Funny, though, I found the question on how to eat tamales on the web. Several years back, I did find myself at a party where Mexican  food (including tamales) was being served, and I sensed that some of the guests did not know how to eat tamales. So, I try, with utmost diplomacy, to instruct on the removal and disposal of the covering.


Probably the worst tamales I have had were some that were wrapped in paper. I don’t even remember where they came from, but they were not good. It might have been in high school cafeteria or summer music camp, or some other such institution. Bad.

The tamales that I do like are the variety that I grew up with. They were not too big, nor too spicy. The masa was moist, but not extra greasy. Because tamales are usually steamed in large amounts, I remember that Mom always kept extra ones in the freezer for warming later. Not that Mom ever made tamales, but she would purchase them by the dozen, several at a time. She usually had friends who made tamales and they would sell them to her or give her some. I can remember having tamales for breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner.

Maybe I need to go back to South Texas to get a tamal that I like. Although I did take a class through adult education about twenty years ago where we made tamales as a class, I don’t think I am going to make tamales myself. There are plenty of recipes available out there, but I am only interested in eating a few good tamales!

The Fires in Southern California

I have been serving on a jury in North Court, so I have been short on time. But, I feel I should say something about the terrible fires that destroyed so much property last week end.

Here is a photo gallery from the LA Times.

This is the photo that I took as we left a restaurant in Fullerton. You can note that the time was 3:15 p.m. If you look at the lower left part of the sky, you can see where it is still a strip of clear blue. For us the fires were just a discomfort of smoke and ashes, but for the people of Anaheim Hills and Yorba Linda it was a tragedy. 

I think we will be done with the trial by tomorrow or Friday at the latest. I can't complain about jury duty. I won't be called again for twelve months. I was amazed at the number of people who were excused from serving. Most of them had what sounded good excuses--primarily health or hardship reasons.

The Golden Age of Mexican Cinema

La Epoca de Oro--The Golden Age--of Mexican movies was in the 1940s to the late 1950s (mas o menos). Today's LA Times had the obituary of one of the great movie stars of Mexico, María Elena Marques.

I remember as a child I thought she was one of the prettiest women I had ever seen. I don't exactly remember her movies, because they all sort of run together.

She is probably better known for the movie The Pearl with Pedro Armendariz. 

Again, I was too young to appreciate the movie at the time. It was later in her career that she made a couple of movies in the U.S., but she went back to Mexico where she was a beloved star.

I can't remember the earliest movie I ever saw, because the Mexican movies were always part of our culture when I was a child. In my hometown, Robstown, the Mexican movies were shown in a tent--La Carpa Jackson. The owner of the business was Mr. Stout Jackson, who earlier in his career had been in vaudeville billed as "The Strongest Man on Earth." Mr. Jackson's act was long before I was born, so I don't know if there was any truth to his claim.

I do recall that for some reason my sister and I visited Mrs. Jackson when we were children, and Mrs. Jackson had an aquarium that held great fascination for Sis and me. Mrs. Jackson told us that she liked watching the fish to calm her nerves. She also gave us a couple of guppies to take home with us. Of course, we did not know how to take care of them, and the fish died within a week or so.

Mr. Jackson would show movies all year long. In those days it was not only the movie that was shown. I remember seeing the newsreels that started with a rooster crowing. Also, I recall that when there was a picture of the American flag that showed on the screen, the audience would clap and shout. These must have been during the war years, but I don't remember a specific time.

In the winter time, the sides of the tent would come down to keep out the cold air, and in the summer nights the sides would go up to allow a breeze to cool us a bit. There were also times that Mr. Jackson would bring a group of movie stars, musicians, and comedy acts to perform live on stage. They were billed as "Caravana de Estrellas." Some of the actors that I recall performing were Jorge Negrete and Luis Aguilar. I especially remember the singer/actor Luis Aguilar because he had big eyes with bushy eyebrows, and he was making funny faces as part of the act. I continue to be a big fan of old Mexican movies of that era, both the musicals and the dramas.

The Heiress, the play

We went to South Coast Repertory last night to see “The Heiress.” I don’t know why it is one of my favorites because I usually like happy endings. The ending of this play can’t exactly be called happy, maybe avenged. The cast at the Costa Mesa theatre proved very professional, and the audience heralded a few ‘bravos’ and ‘bravas’ at the actors during curtain call.


This play was based on a Henry James novel and was first staged in New York in 1947, but it was the movie of 1949 that I remember. In my youth I probably saw every movie that was shown in my hometown. But in 1949 I was really too young to appreciate the drama—musicals were more my liking. My dad was not one to give ratings to movies, but I recall that after he saw this movie, he declared it “really good.” I was only impressed that Olivia de Havilland looked sort of plain. Of course she won an Oscar for that role later on.


Fast forward to my years at Laredo Junior College. Since during high school, I had been in the class plays both my junior and senior years, I became involved with the drama group at LJC. I did not make the casting when Mr. Kielson announced the play was to be The Heiress. I did volunteer to work backstage, and was given the job of assistant stage manager.
My work in high school plays had been light fare, so I expected the students at LJC to be about the same level. I was truly surprised, when I watched the rehearsals and the girl named Rosina in the role of Catherine Sloper was literally crying real tears! She was truly great in the role. I have at times wondered if Rosina continued to exploit her thespian talent. I don't recall her last name, nor do I know what has become of her.

Veteran's Day and Tio Gil

Today is Veteran’s Day. The banks are closed, and so are government offices. But I will pay tribute to the veterans in my family.

My father was married and father of two when WWII broke out. He did not volunteer for service as he was trying to raise a young family. He did get a draft notice, I have been told, but the war was over before he had to report for duty.


The person in my family who did serve during WWII was one of my favorite uncles, Tío Gil.

I remember his photo hanging in my grandmother’s house. He was a hero to me, and a very handsome hero, too. All of my mother’s brothers were handsome. But a man in a sailor’s uniform was a charmer.

The things I remember was that Tío Gil served in the Pacific. My mom would write to him and he responded. I recall Mom crying after she would get a letter from him and asking my sister and me to kneel down and pray for his safe return.


There was censoring in the correspondence at that time, but I recall Mom pointing out the phrase, “Gil is OK now.” This was probably used by many of the servicemen to indicate that they were in Okinawa. I don’t recall the year when this happened, but I must have been pre-school age. It is amazing that the phrase has stayed with me all of these years.


On my dad’s side of the family, all of my male cousins served in the US Army, and I salute them, too.

Serving on the Grand Jury

Earlier this week I received in the mail a solicitation to apply to the Orange County Grand Jury. It came while I was out of town, so I am still trying to catch up with my mail.


I have already served the County. My first panel was the 1994-1995, an 18-month stint. That was due to the Treasurer declaring bankruptcy December 1994. We knew that the investigation would need a whole year, so the panel voted unanimously to extend the normal period of 12 months to 18 months. The outlook for the County was bleak, but we recovered somewhat.




The second Grand Jury panel was 1998-1999. That was a year of change--new district attorney, new sheriff. I still recall the sheriff addressing the panel, and informing us about his idea of having a group of community advisors. Of course we thought he was talking real community leaders, not people wanting gun permits and badges. Oh well, we have yet to see how his federal trial comes out.


The third panel was 2002-2003. The ET Committee was one of the panels on which I sat. ET stands for Environment and Transportation, but we sometimes called it the Entertainment and Travel Committee because we enjoyed each other’s company and we took a few field trips in our charge of investigation.

Below is the committee at the Seven Oaks Dam. We still get together now and then, and I think we are due for another trip soon. Where are we going next?

I have only one thing to add. You meet some of the nicest people from all over the County. Most of us are sincere altruists who believed we could make a difference for the betterment of the County.

Had lunch with the King

There is a restaurant in Garden Grove that is all Elvis. Today we decided to have lunch with the King.

 

Even as we approached the restaurant, Elvis is seen on the balcony area

The food was OK, but we enjoyed looking at some of the memorabilia inside. There was no way we could have looked or read everything in this place. There were movie posters on the ceiling in English, Spanish, French, Italian, etc. As one enters the establishment, the Elvis below is there to greet you. I took the picture of Son and Hubby with Elvis as we said good-bye!

 

I could have cropped this photo, but instead decided to include some of the Elvises around there. 

I recall several Elvis stories, but the first one goes back to when I was a senior  in high school. I was on the yearbook staff. I forget my title, but I was in charge of the section that would sell ads to the merchants of the town to help defray the cost of publishing the yearbook. The teacher sponsor, a fellow student and I were making the rounds trying to collect sponsorships when the subject of Elvis came up. And my fellow student declared that she was not like those silly, screaming girls who followed Elvis around, BUT, she declared, she was truly in love with him! I could hardly believe she had said that, because up to now, I had thought that B was more matured than that.


The other memory of Elvis was the day that he died. I was working as a child support officer in the Orange County District Attorney's office. When the news of Elvis's death started spreading in the office, we all started talking about all the great songs Elvis had recorded, how he had gotten so out of shape, how Priscilla's make up was so awful, etc. Then on the drive home that day the radio stations were all playing Elvis recordings, which they had not been doing too much.


Hubby did attend a live concert of Elvis, but that was before Elvis became famous. Hubby remembers it was during the school year 1953-54 when he went to a Faron Young concert in Amarillo, TX. Elvis was the opening act, and his song was "That's Alright Mama."

Tía María's Passing

 

This is picture of mom and Tía María at the Senior Center of Robstown. I think it was probably Tía's birthday because she is wearing a corsage. I don't know the year of the photo, but I know it was after 2001.

It is with great sadness that I write about one of my favorite aunts. Tía María (also known as Tía Mary and Aunt Mary) was the wife of my grand uncle, but we never made great distinctions when my sister and I were growing up. We regarded all “in-laws” as part of the extended family as if they were true blood relatives and cousins.

Tía María was born 96 years ago in San Diego, Texas. She passed away Monday, November 3, 2008. She was of my mom and dad’s generation. Memories I have of Tía Mary are that sometimes she was a mediator during family’s disagreements. Much like my mom, she was often the peacemaker. I also remember her as the crafty lady, long before arts and craft became popular. She enjoyed working with her hands, and was a good seamstress.

It was not unusual to walk away from her home without a gift in my hand. She always tried to find something to share from her crafts. When I would be back home visiting with my parents or my sister, I would always make an effort to go visit Aunt Mary. The custom is just to say hello and catch up with family news.

The last time that I went to “saludarla,” Tía María was in a nursing home. That was a little bit more than a year ago. Sis and I went together because it was Aunt Mary’s birthday. We each took her a birthday card. Since she had lost some of her hearing, we had to raise our voice each time we talked to her. I introduced myself first, and she just nodded, unsurely. Then my sister introduced herself and clarified who our parents were. Tía María again just nodded, still uncertain of who we were. However, about five minutes or so later, her eyes lit up, and she beamed a smile at us. She stated, “son las de Tina,” pointing her finger at us. She remembered my mom’s name. Recollection of that moment brings tears to my eyes.

Tía María, may you rest in peace. You will now join your husband, your first-born son, all of your sisters as well as your mom and dad. I am glad that you were part of my family. God bless you.

Happy Birthday, Son

Forty-one years ago: I remember this day very well, forty-one years ago. It was the week-end that we change time, so the nurses at the hospital were grumbling about having to work an extra hour. California fires were raging and our cars were covered with ashes and soot, although the fires were not that close to populated areas. The Santa Ana conditions made the temperature hot and there was little to no humidity. But in all this negativity, we were just overjoyed that our son was born. He was a big baby (almost nine pounds), and it was not the easiest delivery, but the pain is soon forgotten when that newborn is placed in your arms. We welcomed our sweet bundle of joy on this day around one o'clock in the morning.

Today, my little baby boy may have grey hair and grown to be over six feet tall, but he is still a sweetheart. His dad baked this cake and I iced it. Chocolate cake is still his favorite. For a gift he received a CD of Enrique Iglesias hits. We already played it, and enjoyed it.

 

A happy, happy birthday fellah!

Day of Dead Presentation

This afternoon I did a presentation at the Buena Park Public Library. The topic was El Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead. This is the first year they have had this, so we had no idea how many people to expect or who our audience was going to be.

We got to the library about an hour before the scheduled start so that I could set up an altar and set up the computer and projector, etc. Here is the table just starting to set it up for the altar.

 

Next is the table set up. I didn't think the table was going to be this big, so the ofrendas had to be spaced out a little bit. But otherwise, I think it worked out okay.

 

Here is the section for Mom and Dad:

 

This one is especially for Dad. American flag and the fresh produce.

  

This one is for Mom. Figs, Pizza Hut pizza, and behind her picture is Chocolate Mexicano.

 

 And here I am trying to get everyone interested in finding out about their ancestors and doing family history.

 It was fun building an altar to honor my parents and my grandparents. It is the first time that I built one, and what I have learned is that anything goes. If this set up hadn't been at the library I probably would have included live plants and lots and lots of candles. Maybe more food items, also. As it was, I was glad to have my two greatest helpers, Hubby and Son, carry all of these ofrendas.

The  staff at the library was just great, but the best were the audience. They were genuinely interested in the topic. We had about 100 people, more than half were children. After the talk about the altar, there was a high school group dancing folkloric numbers. The children and parents then painted masks and enjoyed refreshments that included Pan de Muertos.

When we finally got home, Hubby and I were literally exhausted, but it was a good tired, a satisfied tired.

At the Farmers' Market

We were at the Farmers' Market yesterday. We bought the tastiest persimmons. These are the fuji persimmons, and have the texture of an apple, not squishy like the other persimmons I remember as a child.





















The other things that caught my eye were not related to farm products at all. There were many things for Halloween, but I saw these little figurines for the Dia de los Muertos.

I liked this bullfighter and Frida Kahlo standing behind him. Note the smaller figure in purple between the charro and bullfighter. I think she is supposed to represent the Catrina. I was hoping to find sugar skulls, but the lady at the booth said she wasn't going to bring them to the market until next week.

National Disability Employment Awareness Month

I just today found out that October has been designated as National Disability Employment Awareness Month. This is the first I hear of it. Or, if I heard of it before, I had forgotten because there has been little fanfare given to it. It seems that this designation was given a few years ago. One good thing that I must congratulate the Bush administration for. Check out the two websites.

http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2008/10/print/20081001-12.html

http://www.dol.gov/odep/

My favorite employer in this world is Pizza Hut because they have employed our developmentally disabled son for more than 18 years!

 

Here he is in the walk-in "cooler" transferring pizzas to be placed in the "warmer" so that the dough will rise.

Early Voting

Hubby and I voted yesterday. We took advantage of early voting now available. Every time I vote I get a sense that I have completed a civil responsibility, and I have voted at every election day since I became voting age. Even in the very beginning when we had to pay a poll tax I took voting seriously. I think the right to vote should be exercised even when the person you vote for may not have a chance of winning. But this year I think I voted for the winner!

Remembering Sam's Words

I got a phone call today from a member of a genealogical society. The caller maintains their website. He was interested in posting parts of the book which my brother and I put out a few years back containing Dad's memoirs. I was agreeable to the idea, but that got me to thinking about my Dad's life. He never did talk to us, his children, about his early life. He would say, "¿Para que quieres saber?" Even Mom was not aware of his childhood experiences until she found his little red diary--a year and a half after his death. Well, that call sent me back to  the book and to memories of Daddy.

I have several favorite photos of Dad, but tonight I have chosen two:

This first one, I titled At the River. This photo was taken in the earlly 1950s, and Dad and Mom both look healthy and happy. Dad was demonstrative in his affections, hugging and kissing Mom all the time. I guess that's why I am always hugging people, too.

My other favorite photo of Dad was taken when he was a teenager working for Western Union.

 

Here are Sam's own words from his little book:

"Mostly every day at noon and after school, about three or four of us boys from the Catholic school would go and flirt with the pretty girls from that little school (in those schools, no mas
chicanos).
 
A year later, I went to public school. My teacher’s name was Mrs. Borum.  In that school it was nice, ‘cause there was the regular system. But again, after one year or so, I had to quit
school to go to work. This time as a messenger boy at the ‘Western Union.’

At $30.00 a month. The rush of telegrams was in winter, at least six to eight months. I enjoyed my job, especially when I received tips. I worked one year and then I had to quit that job, ‘cause $30.00 was not enough. I cried when I quit that job. Then I had to go work in the fields picking vegetables.
 
Again, it was something new for me. I didn’t make enough for my lunch, and it was rough, cause it was cold and rainy or really hot sun, we had to work. Y como dije antes, no ganaba ni para el lunch. "

Trees got staked.

Yesterday morning while the temperature was in the 90s Hubby decided we had to stake our new trees because he had to return the stake pounder later that morning.

 

It was hard work especially for people our age with replaced knees, arthritic joints, etc. But I think he did a fantastic job. His hands and joints were sore last night and today, but there is a great sense of achievement. Now we just have to remember to water wisely. We are still in a drought here in California. 

This is one of our trees with the stakes, but that trunk is still very small. Hope it gains girth before the Santa Ana winds start this month.

Apple, apple, apple cobbler

On the south side of our house we have had two apple trees for about eight years. Last year and this year we have had a bountiful harvest of apples. We do not do very much in taking care of these trees as far as pruning or fertilizing. We do try to keep them watered, so they have somehow survived our years of neglect.

The picture below is of the bigger, sweeter apples, the Pettingills.

 

The smaller apples below are the Fuji.

But the best part of these beautiful apples is the consumption. This year we have given away some of the apples, and eaten some fresh, too. But tonight Hubby made his own delicious concoction, and called it sort of a cobbler. Whatever he wants to call it, I call it scrumptious. And it is disappearing fairly fast.

Poll Tax and Voter Rights Act of 1965

 

I watched the Biden-Palin debate tonight, and although it did not change my mind, it did bring some memories of how in Texas, one had the right to vote, but only if he/she paid a poll tax. 

The half-page advertisement above appeared in one of the issues of the Robstown Record in January 1950. Oh the tales that have been told of corruption and fraud in the 1940s and 1950s in Texas.

My first presidential voting opportunity came in 1960. John F Kennedy came to Austin, and stopped by the UT campus. I did get to shake John Kennedy's hand, and I still remember it vividly. He looked right at me and had a strong but brief hold of my hand. I think everyone in the crowd got the same eye contact and hand shake. I also remember Sam Rayburn and Lyndon B Johnson were among the other dignitaries, but I only had eyes and ears for the charismatic, handsome Kennedy.

My mom and dad always voted Democratic. My dad told me that the Republican was the party of the rich people and they did not care for Latin Americans or poor people. He told us that the Democratic party was the way to go because even if there were rich politicians, they at least did more for our people.

Since the presidential election of 2004, I have been intermittently employed by the Office of Personnel Management to assist the Department of Justice in observing polling places in cities or counties that have been found non-compliant with the Voting Rights Act of 1965, passed under LBJ's watch. It gives me great satisfaction that this time in my life, I can assist in making sure that Americans of different colors, ethnicities, religions, disabilities are not disenfranchised. 

It really disappointed me when on one of my recent trips to Texas, I was told that many Democrats don't even go to the polling place anymore. They, I was told, think that their vote will not make a difference because the Republicans have been winning all the state and national elections.

Christmas 1977

I keep running into old photos of my two wonderful children. This was the picture we sent out with our Christmas card in 1977. Daughter was 8 and son was 10.  All my abuelas and tias used to tell me how much they enjoyed getting pictures. I really enjoy remembering how great my children have been, and I feel so blessed.

Fresh Cut Flowers in October

Yesterday I had the picture of the mums and that brought a deluge of memories of when my dad used to sell flowers as the Dia de los Difuntos or Dia de los Muertos drew near.

We did not observe the traditions of Southern Mexico of making altares, but we did have the tradition of honoring our dead ancestors. The preparations started by going as a whole family and taking a hoe to clear weeds, a bucket to haul water, and maybe an evergreen to plant. In Robstown when I was growing up there were two cemeteries--one for the dead anglos and the other one for the dead Latin Americans (that was the term of the day). Today, there is a third cemetery (it allows any dead people) which is perpetual care, but not so in the old days. November 2nd was a holy day of obligation to attend mass in the morning, and then take fresh flowers to the graves of family members who had passed away.

In the book Hecho en Tejas, there is a chapter by Cynthia L. Vidaurri on the cemetery art in Robstown. She captured the scene very well.

Below is Dad's ad in the Robstown Record for mid October 1950. If you click on it you can read some of the other "news" going on in Robstown. A bunch of flowers sold for 50 cents! The bunch was a generous amount of chrysanthemums and/or marigolds, about 24 stems-mas o menos. I especially loved the colorful display of the flowers at our store before they were sold. At the cemetery the graves were adorned not only with the fresh cut flowers, but with other adornments, too. But it is the bright oranges and yellows that have stuck in my memory.

 

A couple of weeks later this ad ran during the first week in November 1950. He still had some of the flowers, it seems, but the featured items are green beans at 12 cents a pound. Apples are not a bad buy at 10 cents a pound.

Fresh cut flowers are prohibitively priced these days. The last time I took flowers to the cemetery they were silk flowers. The silk or plastic flowers don't require water, and I guess that's a plus, because we also have memories of the mosquitoes in my home town. But that's another story for another day . . . . .

Our Trees are Planted

The city of Anaheim has this wonderful program called Tree Power. The program will deliver up to six shade trees to a residence in the interest of saving energy and greening the city.

So shortly after returning from Texas I called the program coordinator. The young man came with a notebook with pictures of trees available. For the front we chose an orchid tree and a crepe myrtle. For the backyard we chose an avocado tree--our old one has not been very bountiful and had to go.

After a couple of weeks the trees were delivered, but then we had to actually plant them! That's where a wonderful service organization comes to the rescue. GOALS (Growth Opportunities through Athletics Learning and Service) is a Disney group started back when Mr Eisner was the chief there. Daniel and Les came this morning with shovels, a tarp, and not much else but brawn, politeness and a big dosage of goodwill. These two young men (Les came all the way from Riverside) are not professional gardeners, just two service-oriented young men. They asked for nothing, but Hubby gave them some of our Kadota figs. All they accepted from me was a cold drink of water.

Here is one of the trees that they planted for us. We will have to stake the trees next week when we borrow the equipment from the city.

I can now try to continue with the fall planting. Here are some of the chrysanthemums I picked up at Lowe's last week. I am looking forward to filling in some other spots in the front yard.

Time to Wake Up and Think of Robstown

I have been asleep all day. My appointment with the periodontist was at 9 a.m. this morning, but I was instructed to take the meds one hour before. By the time Hubby drove me to the appointment, I was already sleepy and then I slept through the whole procedure. I don't remember much of anything except that Hubby picked me up and said something about lunch time as he led me to the car.

This is the way to go to a dentist, endodontist or periodontist appointment. Make it a forgettable experience. I need to go back in a week so he can remove sutures! He did suturing??

So now after sleeping all day long, I hope I can get a good night's rest. Last night I was a bundle of nerves thinking of what today's visit was going to be. Glad that it went OK. The Dr. even called me earlier this evening. I don't remember what he looked like. But I guess he is a good doctor.

Today I had intended to talk about my hometown, Robstown. My brother phoned me last night excited because he had closed a good business deal with someone whose wife was a native of Robe or Robestán. That is the Tex-Mex term used sometimes to ridicule our little burg, but also sometimes to speak of it with pride and love.  My sister, my brother and I were all born in Robstown and graduated from Robstown High School. After high school I worked a year before resuming my education, marrying and winding up in California. But my connection to Robstown is never really broken. My sis and her husband are pillars of the community in Robstown and will probably remain there until their last days.

 

This picture taken at my sister's home last month. The one who steals the shot is that cutie of a grandson, of course.

Four and half years ago

It hardly seems possible that it has been that long. Mom's last visit in California was four and a half years ago. This is probablyone of the last photos we took at our home. The flowers were sent to me by daughter because I was celebrating a birthday. Mom had stated she wanted to be with me for my birthday, and then she wanted to return to Robstown. I was happy to have her with us for the celebration.

Gifted

Earlier this week I ran into a Panda Express and picked up their Orange Chicken. Along with the chow mien, fried rice, egg roll, I also was given the ubiquitous fortune cookie. I couldn’t finish all that was dished out, so saved the leftovers in the fridge. Sunday night is the traditional clear the fridge of things that are growing a culture because the trash truck comes tomorrow morning.

I had a chance to finally open my fortune cookie and this is what it said.

It made me feel great because it was stating the very obvious. I am not taking this to mean that I am a person of many talents as being gifted. I am taking this to mean that I have been gifted with a great family. My immediate family gives me unconditional love and support, and I reciprocate always.

Going back one generation, my mom, dad, sister and brother were also a great gift. La Familia is the greatest gift in the Latino family. No matter what came, Mama Tina always kept the family together—contra viento y marea—we always had a united clan.

 

 

This photo was taken the summer of 1957: Sis was in nursing school in Corpus Christi, I had just graduated from high school, our sweet baby brother was four years old and probably learning to ride his tricycle. My Dad certainly has the look of pride in picture (Mom was taking the picture).

Remembering the Girl Scout Experience

I saw a story on the news tonight regarding the Girl Scouts. The story had to do with Muslim girls joining and being able to keep their head cover and dress and still do the “girl scout thing.”

 That brought memories of our relationship with that great organization. My daughter joined as a Brownie and continued through the Junior stage. She did not continue to the Cadet stage primarily because she became so engaged in music. Music continues to be one of her passions in life.

Both Hubby and I took active volunteer roles as Registrar for our area and taking charge of the cookie sales for a few years for our troop. I miss getting those thin mint cookies for $2.00 a box.

Below is a picture taken at one of the camp outs with our daughter and her friend having fun.

Mama and the Bishop's Chair

Mom came to stay with us for a few months in California after Dad passed away. We really enjoyed having her with us, and I think she shared more family stories at that time than before.

We visited the then newly-opened Cathedral of our Lady of the Angels more than once. Because she experienced some difficulty in walking, the staff provided a wheel chair for her.

Son delighted in pushing her through the tour. When we went up to the altar, and there was no sign to forbid it, Mom decided she wanted to sit on the Bishop’s Chair. Mom was barely five feet tall, and she looks even smaller sitting here. Mom always had a great sense of humor.

Recovering Lost Documents and Juan de Oñate

My hard drive crashed almost a year ago. Fortunately it was an external drive, so there was some hope. We took the sick drive to a Mac doctor in the county. He was able to recover many, many thousands of documents and images.

I sighed in relief that all was not lost. There were some documents and images that could not be rescued, but I’ll never know which ones they were. When I went to the rescuer’s workroom (his garage), he gave me a quick illustration of how he had organized the saved items. Documents alone numbered in the thousands and thousands. Now all I have to do is open each one, identify what it is, give it a proper name so that I may retrieve it with ease, and organize it in folders, etc. The dates that the photos were taken or word documents created all have a November 2007, which is when he recovered the files.

So, when I get a few moments to spare, I start opening files, never knowing what I'm going to find. I confess that many of the documents could have been trashed a long time ago, but others, I am glad to have back.

Today, I ran into some extractions I had taken from Juan Antonio Esquibel’s web site. This particular Word document has to do with his lineage to his ancestor Juan de Oñate.

Last May I went on a dream-fulfilling trip to the Copper Canyon in Chihuahua. To get there I had to fly in to El Paso. At the entrance of the El Paso airport is this tremendously huge equestrian statue of Don Juan de Oñate. There was a lot of controversy before the statue was finally installed and dedicated. Maybe there still is. I can understand both sides in this controversy. Juan de Oñate was a cruel, ruthless man who killed many of the natives according to historians, and he was also a great conquistador, greatly impacting the settling of Europeans in New Mexico. I try not to judge my ancestors—and, Oñate is also one of my ancestors.

 

 

Fireworks in Mexico

Mexican Independence Day. This being a day of celebration for the Mexican population, I thought I would share a photo that was taken in Saltillo, Coahuila a couple of years ago (mas or menos). My daughter and I joined a genealogical group from San Antonio for a week of researching, sightseeing, shopping and enjoying the good company of our hosts /guides in Saltillo.

The city was also having a big celebration because it was some milestone anniversary of the founding, but, we don't really need much of an excuse to start a celebration. The main plaza was crowded shoulder to shoulder to listen to the music of about three different groups. After that came the firework display immediately in front of the Cathedral. I don't recall whether my daughter or I took this photo, but it brings good memories of good times.