Yucatan Guacamole so good even the French eat it.

I just opened a container of guacamole, Yucatan Guacamole to be exact. With a name like Yucatan I expect it to be made south of the border. Possibly near the Yucatan Peninsula.

On the inside of the lid is a little explanation of the guacamole dip. A couple sentences about the finest ingredients and all that. Underneath that is presumably the same few sentences in Spanish. The guac is good, if it wasn’t I wouldn’t have stood there reading the inside of the cap.

It’s been years since I have studied Spanish but I remember a fair amount of it. I can piece together a sentence or two if I have to. I certainly can at least recognize words. The first word of the little blurb in English was Because. In the Spanish translation it was Parce. This really threw me since I remember Because being Por que. As I tried to remember high school Spanish I read a little more of the Spanish translation and realized that it was not Spanish but French!

French? Why the hell would they translate the story of their guacamole into French. French people don’t eat guacamole. Maybe people who are descendants from the French do but people who speak French as their first language do not eat Guacamole. Now if this little half pint container held fish eggs, snails or lizard eyes I can see the logic of translating it to French. Heck it would be wise to have the whole thing written in French since no one who speaks English as a first language is going to touch that shit, but guacamole? It just doesn’t make any sense.

Upon further inspection I noticed that this particular guacamole is a product of Mexico but made in the US. It also happens to be Kosher and has Halal stamped on it but I am not sure what that means. The only thing missing from the label is an idication that it is vegetarian. Maybe they threw some lizard eyes in it for the French

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I’m addicted to diet coke

The Cartoon
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I didn’t realize this until I ran out of it. I haven’t had a diet coke in over 24 hours and I have a massive headache and I am really tired. I have tried coffee to perk me up but that just gets me too jittery. This sucks. I could run to the store to buy some but frankly I want to know how long I can go before the monkey starts screaming. I can also use this as the excuse for why I am so cranky. It’s really hard to find anything even mildly amusing to say when you are going through withdrawal.

* an hour after I posted this I was out of the game. I felt like Kramer.

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Harvest Time

I planted brussel sprouts and zucchini this spring. I also planted tomatoes and a variety of herbs. I planted the brussel sprout too close together so they didn’t do so well which is fine since I don’t like them anyway. One of the seeds traveled a fair distance and got away from the crowd and actually produced real brussel sprouts. I don’t believe in using pestides however so all the little veggies have been holes in them. Because the brussel sprout plant is so large and the leaves are so big all of my herbs suffered for lack of son. The basil and rosemary are hanging on for dear life until I can take them out of the garden and put them in a pot to grow inside during the fast approaching winter. The rest of the herbs died two months ago.

My tomato plants have produced fruit but they are anemic and still very green. I went away for the week on the 4th and forgot to ask anyone to water them. I think they are teasing me now.

The zucchini has done very well. I have more zucchini than I know what to do with and my children are tired of me putting it in every meal. When I tried to sneak it into their PB&Js they rebelled and refused to eat anymore. I have been leaving it on my neighbors doorsteps in the middle of the night but I think they know it was me.

My neighbor planted broccoli this spring and had one plant that he couldn’t fit into his garden. He gave it to me where I immediately left it on my patio table for two weeks before I planted it in a small pot. His broccoli filled up his entire garden much like my brussel sprouts. He and his family have been feasting on the most wonderfully tasty broccoli for the last month. I have a teeny, tiny broccoli bud that is about the size of a quarter.

Tonight both of my daughter’s friends came over to play before dinner. Both brought with them a paper bag filled with tomatoes. Both girls announced, separately I might add, that the tomatoes had been washed and were ready to eat. They also said that we were welcome to more. When I called the moms to thank them they both said they were sick of tomatoes. I don’t feel so bad about the zucchini anymore.

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