[found it] [seafood] [,] [leftovers] [where] [?]

I'm feeling a little geeky, a little crazy, a little excited, and very satisfied. As I was in the car driving home Thursday evening after a very long and tiring week, I reminded my cousin, since we were kinda on the way anyway, about that place Central Market. Every opportunity we had prior to this it was always too early or too late to shop there and today seemed to be nice timing.

Now, my aunt had taken me to this bourgeois grocery store about 4 years ago, and we had gone to the Dallas one earlier in the spring. While I was impressed with it each time we visited ~ somehow I totally forgot about their selection of seafood. Though I DID remember that their markets were alot like the San Diego grocery stores! Since I've been here I'm sure you've read about just how much I miss my seafood!!

My cousin and I rushed thru the isles (all I wanted was fish and only had $20.00 in cash, plus I was freaken' tired), As I walked inside I remembered that we went to one of these when he lived in College Station but it was a combo HEB and Central Market so it was a little more of a traditional market with isles and less like an IKEA.

I rushed past all the fresh fruits, stopping to inhale the scents of some of the more exotic fruits that are not found in the typical white bread Kroger's in our neighborhood. I stopped at the vegetables debating on if I should purchase baby artichokes (but left the baby's at the store) I started to smell that familiar scent ~ seafood!!!! Right before the fishie isles there was a small table full of Le Cruset cookware. More temptations!!!!! I picked up a small pan and heard the words 'Walk Away!!' I put it down and continued to walk forward. . .

Right in front of me had to have been around 100 feet of every type of ocean fish imaginable!!!!! Gulf coast shrimp, Red Snapper, Swordfish, Halibut, Albacore, Tuna, Flounder, Salmon. . . I had to stop the saliva from escaping (ok you didn't need that visual, but I'm not kidding, it really happened). I would name off more fish, but the nice fish butcher came up and asked if I needed any help.

I asked if he knew the lucky numbers to the lottery, which got no response. I quickly had to make up my mind about which cuts of fish to chose from. Now, since I am not to familiar with this market AND I was on a budget I couldn't just go all out and order everything l saw, so ~ I chose a fish that I knew I had a simple recipe for ~ Plane Jane Tuna. When I looked at the price per pound my heart skipped a beat. It was a bit more pricey than the skimpy selection at the Krogers, but it looked so mouth watering juicy and tasty that I justified to myself it was worth the cost.

I ordered a 6oz filet for myself and an 8oz filet for my cousin. The fish butcher asked if there was anything else I wanted, and I had to tell him that sadly that would be all for today. What he did next totally floored me!!! He weighed each of my filets, said one was a little under and one was a little over the weight I wanted and asked if that was ok. "Of course", I said. After that he wrapped them up, then proceeded to pack them in ICE!!!!

They don't even offer that service at Henry's in San Diego!!! In fact, I've only seen this done on TV!!!!! I walked away from the counter feeling so freaking special! I was giggling to my cousin about just how amazed I was with everything I saw and then went on to plan out what we were going to buy on the next trip. He reminded me that I need income, yea well ~ I can still dream about good food :)

I walked up to the cashier, she tallied up the fish ~ named out the price (which was incorrectly low). I exclaimed "THAT'S IT?!?!" My cousin kicked me but the cashier didn't even notice. I paid and we walked out of the store giggling even more! Was that wrong? Yes. Do I care? Not really. Do I feel guilty? No.

Sadly, I was not able to cook my meal that night. I didn't know all of the ingredients off hand so I ate home made chicken fried rice instead. Then, because of the tornados and floods on Friday ~ I settled for a chicken basket at Sonic. Now today, I was able to go out and finally do some real grocery shopping. I got the rest of the ingredients for my tuna steaks and wala:

celantro, jalapeno, ginger, garlic, soy sauce, olive &
sesame oil, fresh lime juice, lime zest & sugar

I used my *new* food processor that my aunt gave to me for christmas. This thing ROX, it's the three cup capacity model from Cuisinart and it's perfect!!! I went to taste a sample, shared some with my cousin and um, we had a hard time not eating it all before the steaks were done! LOL

sea salt, fresh ground pepper, olive oil & tuna

Because of the two days of not being able to do any real grocery shopping, I stuck the steaks in the freezer. They almost didn't thaw out in time but thanks to ziplock bags and cold water ~ they thawed just in time to take their sea salt and fresh pepper bath. I couldn't resist and cut out a small chunk and ate a bite before cooking. OMG, it melted in my mouth!!!! In the future I'll be trying to make my own sashimi. . . The only thing I'm missing is a *really, really, really* nice knife.

more like, there's nothing left!

Seriously, my camera is lacking the color justification that was on the plate. The avocado, the soy vinaigrette, the seared tuna (salad with sesame garlic dressing not pictured), the wine, everything. OMG it was all so good, and yea ~ there were no leftovers.

It was all so filling there was no room for dessert (good thing I didn't make any ..). And yea, it was the best *ahem* underpriced tuna I've ever had!

the movies and voices in my head won't stop

It's been a long week since last Thursday night. I don't think I've had a good nights rest since I heard the news of grandpa. We spent all of last Friday morning in the ICU and the remainder of the day doing typical errands as well as just hanging around the house playing video games and 'wondering what to do'.

Saturday was the day grandpa passed away. We left the hospital after hearing over and over his doctors assuring us they did all they could. To me, the best they could have done (which is what they did) was give us the last moments that we had with him. Those of us that were at his side with him were able to say our goodbyes and know (and share and reassure) that he left us peacefully and quickly. As this was his way; Mannie said it best, he always left us in the mornings quickly and quietly but was always back later to be with us for breakfast. Grandpa really loved his traditions. And one day all of us will be with him again for breakfast.

Saturday evening, my grandmas house was full of uncles aunts cousin's and great grandkids. We had KFC and Wendy's burgers but none of us really touched our food. We sat around going thru small treasure boxes, looking at photos on her walls and going over grandpas last wishes. Grandma said that he had been ready and they both had already taken the time and found were they wanted their final resting place.

I felt so special to be with her at that moment and I will cherish seeing two of her daughters and one of her sons taking turns sitting by her side as she spoke. As I sat looking at long forgotten memories of my grandpa, I remembered all the lessons and values they both taught me. I remembered my parents sending me to stay with the grandparents in that same house with what would seem like whole summers but were probably only long weekends. We all shared our memories of him with each other and filled the house with laughter and tears of joy.

Finally grandma said she was tired and wanted to rest, so slowly we all hugged and said our goodbyes. My uncle is taking this really hard but grandpa pulled him aside long ago and told him everything he wanted and showed him where all the important things were. Every time I saw that he was alone (which was rare) I went to hug him. It's been a while, if ever that I've ever been that close to him. Hopefully one day when he is ready, the two of us can spend some quiet time at the range.

My surrogate family and I piled into the twin cab truck and surprisingly we drove home in a very rare silence. Before we all piled in, we were all laughing and joking about who was gonna sit where. On the way home, the song "Rooftops" played on the radio. I think I heard my cousin Stef started crying at the same time as me. Wednesday at his viewing, there were over 1000 digital images of his life on display. Yesterday while driving to grandpas service the SAME song started playing and while I sat there listening to it, I saw those same digital images in tune to the music.

I can't help but think about him now when I hear the melody and the words to me seem to fit his life as I remember him. I also can't help but cry, but they are tears of joy. Mannie went out last night and bought the CD, I was joking around and said to him that that CD needs a special place in his CD book. With Gonzalez letters in glitter, golf, bowling, fish and camera stickers. So if you ever see that, you know the story behind it.

His children also had a very special song that was played at his eulogy; A country tune called 'Daddy's Hands'. I remembered years ago as the aunts and my uncle sat around one christmas and played the song for him on a new stereo they bought him. I think this might have been when they were trying to start his collection of CD's. I honestly can't recall why the song was played, but I know I've heard it before and it was with family. I know back then that the song fit grandpa to a T because of the stories that my aunts and uncles would tell us all about him. As we all sat listening to this song you could hear and feel the raw emotion from those around you.

I'm taking this alot harder than I thought I would. During his services I was surprised that his immediate family took up the first 10 rows. I couldn't bring myself to look behind me but I could feel the room was full. Can you just imagine how large of a family him and my grandma made? By most standards, our family is pretty small (especially when I compare it to my dad's side). In his service, the words from my blog were read aloud, As it was read there was lots of laughter mixed with small amounts of tears and that meant more to me than anyone will ever understand. In the future when I am asked what my greatest accomplishment was, that is going to be it. I got my point across, I made them smile at my memories of him. I understood and got him. I did something right.

When asked by the pastor, my mother had the courage to stand up and speak about him. I looked on from my seat in the second row and saw how anxious she was and watched as she almost jumped out of her seat. She was so excited to get her words out and you could see her determination. Lucky for me I was sitting at the isle so I was ready to rush to her aide if she needed my comfort. As I sat there listening to her beautiful words dedicated to her father of how proud she was of him; I was beyond proud of her because she had the courage and strength to go thru her whole speech with very little emotion. I saw grandpa in her, and I see those traits in myself as well.

My mother and her sisters had mentioned at our family dinner just hours before attending his wake was how my grandpas eyes always seemed to sparkle! No matter how tired he was, he was always happy and excited to be around his family. While my family attended his wake, a couple came in, signed his guest book and paid their respects. As they were leaving they introduced themselves as friends from his church. The most important thing they said to us and what made them stand out to me was they also brought up how much his eyes twinkled, and how excited he always seemed to be when attending his church services. Its nice to know he was the same way with others as he was he was with us.

Everyone deals with grief in their own way, for some it comes out as anger to those closest to them. I know this is a trait I possess; in my past someone wanted to know why I only seemed to lash out at them. I saw this trait in many members in our family and was victim to it over the course of the week. I see and I know and understand that it is a show of love. In myself I want to work on a more productive way of expressing my anger as I see now how painful it is to be on the receiving end.

I overheard my brother apologizing for his shoes and his discomfort in wearing them. He's come to terms with the choices he's made in his life and he is living it as best he can. You can see in his eyes how tired he is, and you can see in his body and posture just how hard he works. I hear in his speech just how much he has changed over the course of the years. Just hearing him apologize also showed a great sign of maturity.

I was surprised at the response I heard said to him as it's shown that some people really think about their replies. "We're all just glad you're here." I'm glad that was said, and not the typical 'speaking down to a child' response that I've heard and also been a victim of this past week. The first thing I said to my brother when I saw him that morning as I hugged him was that I was so glad he was here, and if he was alright. I don't even think I noticed what he was wearing, as I was just comforted by his presence. I even thanked his wife for coming with him because I know it's hard to bring a small child on such a long trip.

What? Is that anger you just read? Yes. But I'm dealing with it and not going to let it get to me. A very difficult lesson that I'm finally starting to accept is that family is most important. Over the past three years I'm starting to see and realize just how 'good' I have it and how much I really have to be thankful for, and just how expansive my safety net is. I'm glad I am home, and I am starting to question less and accept more, on 'why' others are glad I am here as well.

As we drove to his interment, I saw the dark storm clouds looming all around us. It seemed the sun was shining only on our little section of town. The forecast mentioned thunder and rain storms. I was so glad for only having to deal with high winds. There were two rows of seats, a much smaller section than was available at his services earlier. My mother wanted me near her, just in case. She didn't want to sit and I didn't either, but she said what I was thinking "Grandpa wouldn't want us sitting, he deserves for all of us to stand." As she sat down in her place of honor, I stood next to her hugging her as best I could.

I keep thinking back about everything I learned from grandpa. Some things I can't believe I failed to mention earlier. He absolutely loved to take pictures!!!! One of the photos I saw in his digital collage was one of him with his old fashioned VHS camcorder. Just last holiday 2005 he STILL had that camera with him. In another recent photo he got a gift of an 8pack of VHS tapes. Over the years he was given newer and smaller camcorders, but he never opened them, much less used them. He preferred his BIG one. He would walk around telling stories to his camera while filming us all. I can't wait to see these tapes again just to hear his voice.

My cousin James and I talked about him in detail on Tuesday night. We talked about our road trip along the eastern Mexico coast when I was 13 and he was 10. The grandparents took me him and our cousins Jennifer and Eric on what seemed like their second honey moon. They both introduced us to 'real' mexican culture which is different than the Tex-Mex that we were so accustomed to. This was also the first time I had food other than pizza and burgers. I remembered ordering dishes and both of them telling us stories about how they had eaten it in their younger days. The first time I ever had black beans and yellow rice was on that trip to Mexico. I looked at my plate in disgust and declared I would not be eating that and asked for my regular brown beans and red rice.

Jennifer, who was probably only 5 or 6 at the time, looked at her plate, didn't even wince, took a bite and announced in her cutest voice possible that it was the best rice and beans EVER!!! Grandpa strongly suggested that I try it, (because if I didn't eat it, I would not be eating anything else for a while) so I did, and she was right! They were the best ever. I think that was where I began my culinary experiences and my taste for good food developed. It wasn't until I moved to San Diego five years later that I would find black beans and yellow rice again. Those lessons from my grandparents really helped me adjust and try all the new asian foods there as well.

There are so many other things I remember, such as walking down the hallway while visiting my grandparents house in San Angelo and taking my grandpa some peanuts in the shell or when my grandma finally got tired of the mess, cashews in the can. I also remember the jars of salsa in the used planters glass jars. I remember mailing those salsas that my grandma made and said that grandpa tested their hotness to my then husband all the way across the world when he was on his west-paks.

Along with what I've written here are all the unspoken/unwritten things. Yesterday it hit me just how much I already miss him. I was also reminded by so many that he is still here. Looking thru his photo albums, I see his face in my two uncles, as well as my cousin Eric. His sons share his love of sports and the outdoors. My mother and I have his way with words, My aunt Chris has his compassion, My aunt Stella and I share his love of art and photography, and finally My aunt Julie has his soft fine hair. He lives in all of us, and protects us everyday.

Holiday weekend recap

After getting back home from my long weekend this christmas eve, I was finally able to vacuum the apartment for the first time since Cinders and I arrived. Before I 'left' this past June I had stored my 'new' vacuum cleaner in my aunt and uncles garage and I finally remembered to ask them if it was ok to pick it up. As I rearranged the furnishings to clean the floor this treasure made itself known:

Mac in black, Grandpa in green.

My mother took this photo of her brother Mac and her dad this past Thanksgiving (less than a month ago). When I went home to San Angelo not too long ago, she sent this and other photos back with me to share with her sisters. As you can see, grandpa is still as handsome and healthy and happy as ever here. In the background you can see that he was surrounded by his beautiful family. As my cousin Mannie sat holding this photo in his hands he told me that Janah (grandpas ICU nurse) thought that grandpa and his youngest daughter Julie (Mannies mom) were brother and sister rather than father and daughter. Can you see why she might have thought that just by looking at this photo?

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After a long day Friday, Manny and I braved Target to finish up some more last minute shopping and to drool up and down the kitchen isles for items to purchase in our future kitchen. Somewhere along the way I asked if he wanted to go visit Daniel my brother and see his beautiful new home. I made a quick phone call and we were on our way.

We visited Missy, Duke and Daniel, played some Conker on his xbox until Daniel finally ushered our hyper Boo-Koo / Rock-Star asses out the door saying something about Gracie kicking his ass if he didn't have the house clean by the time she got home. (((I love you Gracie!!! Daniel is a better man because of you *remember that one time you gave me that look when Daniel ate what I put in front of him, I am returning that look to you for him cleaning your home. I am so happy you have each other!! )))

Sometime around 12:30 am Saturday morning we made our way back to his parents house. We giggled our way into the kitchen, some bottles of wine caught our ADD attention spans as did the the leftover pizza ordered earlier that day. Somehow it was decided that microwave pizza and Merlot would be an AWESOME midnight snack!!!

After spending about 20 minutes searching for a cork screw (can you see where I am going with this). . . and knowing that knocking on a neighbors door at 1:30 in the morning here would result in a shot gun to the face (hey this *IS* Texas, they have the right to bare arms) . . . My brain went into creative overload. I had to have wine and I had to have it NOW and here's what happened:

I asked if there was a wood screw. We found one in the junk drawer. Was there a plus sign screw driver? Hmmm . . . yea, but it didn't have much of a handle.

Screw the screw with the makeshift screw driver into the cork. Try to keep the giggles down.

Was there a hammer claw? No. How about a vice grip? No. Where is your uncles tool chest? In the garage. Turn on the lights, they don't work. Oh look here on the floor, a copper thingie that bends into a 'V' shape!!! Perfect!!!!! You're giggling too loud!!! Your gonna wake up Noah!!!

Squeeze the screw head with the copper thingie and slowly pull the cork away from the bottle. You're laughing man!!! SHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

POP!!!!!! HAHAHAHA Ok where are the wine glasses? OMG we're gonna have to drink out of shot glasses aren't we? There they are!!! Behind the faucet!!

4/5 of the way thru the bottle. . . . ZZZZZZ

We told his parents in the morning our story, they laughed AT us, not with us. It was still the best Merlot I've ever had!!

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When Santa asked me what I wanted for christmas this year, I said 'Food to eat, gas in my car, and my cel bill paid'. I'm simple this year. Santa was extra nice to me and gave me something that will be used way more than ever anticipated:

Brie, Breton & Pinot please!

Look Gir made room for his cupcake!

Gir is keeping my tootsies warm, and yes Jessica, you rocked my socks right off with this present!!! I will think of you everytime while I am wearing these awesome tootsie covers.

Santa loved us this year. Noah had a blast with the wrapping and boxes. Can you find him?

Tinkerbell on Geofrey's neck. I just know Santa's not going to be so good to me next year for this one!

Loss involves the absence of . . . grandpas

I was told very late today that you can never really get over losing somebody, you only learn how to live with the loss. The reason these words were said is because around 2:30pm CST today my grandpa gave up his earthly struggles and his existence is now in another less painful place.

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I have an understanding and appreciation of the outlook on life of those that are spiritual but no matter how many times somebody (hospital staff, family, friends, people that knew my grandpa) tell *me* they are sorry, it will not bring dear grandpa back. I am not sorry he is gone because he no longer has to suffer. Now I can remember him for the man in my childhood. I chose to celebrate his life and remember all the valuable lessons that he taught me. I chose to do this with fond remembrance and with as much happiness and laughter that I can. It makes me happy to think that now I am special and have my own personal spirit watching over me.

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My grandpa loved to play golf. These past few years he has only been able to cart around with my uncle and observe while he plays his game, giving pointers such as 'keep your head down' and 'watch your swing'.

My grandpa loved to fish. He would take us on the Concho when I was a little girl and worm up our poles while we caught stuff in the river. We always released our catches, but still ~ those are some very happy memories. Today in a black briefcase treasure box at my grandparents, I saw a few photos of his silhouette in fishing gear on some lake or river. These photos are beautiful. I want copies of them on my wall some day.

My grandpa loved to bowl. I remember his collection of shoes, gloves, bags and balls at the grandparents house. I also remember when he would watch bowling on Saturday morning on his TV while my cousins, brothers and I would watch cartoons while eating cereal in the sun room. I remember smelling my grandmas cooking all while hanging out at my grandparents place and all the aunts where chatting up with grandma in Spanish and my uncles were watching bowling with grandpa and talking about men stuff.

My grandpa loved his family. I took a drive with my grandparents back in April or May this year and in their car they have many sun worn photos of their family along the dashboard and various other parts of the car. I always felt the love and pride that he had for his children just by looking at grandpas possessions.

I remember his cowboy hats, his belt buckles and ostrich boots. My grandpa is a handsome man, my grandma is a beautiful lady and they made a beautiful family. Everyone in their family shares their head turning looks. Even today in the hospital, the nurses kept commenting that he didn't look anywhere near his age, and were surprised on how old some of us really are.

My grandpa loved to paint everything with glitter, even the ceiling. He would paint his name on anything he owned, usually in glitter. He painted lots of lawn ornaments and pots for the plants for my grandma, usually with her name in glitter too. I can't remember if he painted his lawn mower, but it wouldn't surprise me if he did. I know for sure the mower cover did have his name painted on it somewhere.

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This morning, I woke up at my aunt and uncles house. My aunt left the house around 8am to get some more last minute shopping done. She was very quiet in her departure, but I watched her from under the covers, as I feigned sleep from the living room. I got up after she left, because I didn't want her worrying about making me breakfast when I knew she wanted to go shopping. My uncle came downstairs earlier than usual and I thought about running upstairs to be 'first' to take my shower, but my internet addiction got the better of me.

My nephew also wakes up and we try to get my cousin to go sleep upstairs. He was also sleeping in the living room, curled up with his xbox controller. He wasn't budging, so we let him rest as best we could with my nephew awake. Around 9:45 my aunt comes home. Her voice is shaken, she said that grandpa was going to emergency surgery and she wanted to leave ASAP.

I woke my cousin up and said lets go, it's grandpa. The four of us pile into the truck and drive to the hospital. My grandma was waiting for us alone in the waiting room, but not for long ~ as usual, we filled up the place in record time. The surgery was not going to happen right away, but it was scheduled between 1:30 and 3:30 and his nurse Janah would let us know more as the day went on. I called my mother and my brother to let them know the news.

My mother is sick, and lives 5 hours away. I recommended that she not come because she would not be able to see him in the ICU because of her sickness, but I tried to keep her as informed as possible, my brother and his wife work nights and were sleeping, but I left him VM.

Janah told me that his kidneys and liver were failing and mentioned something about acute failure of another valuable but replaceable organ, they also scheduled a dialysis later in the day, and for his surgery they would be performing their 3rd or 4th endoscopy in 3 days to determine the cause and location of his bleeding ulcer.

I couldn't say the words or ask the question "how much longer does he have". But I knew deep down that no matter her answer, it wouldn't be what I wanted to hear, that my grandpa was on a very short count down. She had also mentioned other complications, but I had heard enough, and just started nodding my head and telling her I understood. After everything, she was so nice and polite, she wanted to know if I had any more questions. I did not.

I went to my grandpa's side. His breathing was much more relaxed today and he seemed to be resting despite everything I had just been told and what I was looking at, he looked like he had a great morning. I clutched his arm and ran my fingers thru his soft hair. I know he knew who I was and I did feel that he was less tense than yesterday.

Before the surgery, Janah came out and had grandma sign some more forms about anesthesia. She said his surgeon would possibly be coming out after the surgery to let us know his vitals. This was around 1 pm. Around 2pm, I went to use the toilet and make myself some tea and as I am doing my sugar ritual I can't think enough to even open the sugar packets when my cousin comes in to tell me 'come here'.

I don't rush, I don't know why I have to come here, I'm not that interested in what was on the discovery channel in the waiting room. I take my time pouring my sugar into the foam cup, I don't bother to look at him to see how serious he is, or to see everyone of my family members standing up crowding around our surgeon in blue jeans. I take my time walking to throw away my suger packets, and as I look up, I see it all, and I feel stupid for messing around with the stupid sugar and the stupid tea and the stupid styrofoam cup.

Our surgeon tells us that he looked into my grandpas insides again and there is nothing that can be done that wouldn't be prolonging the inevitable. Our doctor made a beautiful speech that I will forever remember, but he didn't have to tell me. He said his words with confidence and with utmost reassurance that everything had been done that they could possibly do. He talked about my grandpa as if he were a close golfing buddy and not as if he were a sequence of numbers on a sheet of paper. He said that grandpa had received the kind of care he hoped to have when his time had come. He spoke to us like a friend of the family. I've long been convinced of what he was trying to tell my family and I will forever admire my grandma for the courage to make the decision that she made, which was to take him off of life support.

Back in grandpas room, my family stood gathered around him while some new hospital staff faces came quietly into the room, made their way around the machines and quietly started flipping switches and pulling tubes from grandpa. I watched as the color in his face started changing. I saw his chest same as earlier this morning in a very peaceful breathing pattern. I listened as everybody said their goodbyes. There was so much love and closeness in the room. I watched his heart rate lines fluctuate wildly until the hospital staff came in and shut off the display.

I could see my grandpa in shadow form from the corner of my eye in one of the many empty chairs putting on his golf cleats, filling his pockets with fishing lures, and filling up his magical bag ~with his name in glitter on it of course~ with golf clubs, fishing lines, bowling balls and everything else he loved. I saw his shiny belt buckle and his cowboy hat. He stood up to walk and when I turned to look at him, he was gone.

Not more than 20 minutes after our surgeon gave us the news was grandpa gone. One thing that I remembered about him was that he was always in a hurry and even in his death he wasted no time. I could just picture him rushing himself along all while mumbling loud enough so we could all hear about how excited he was about where he was gong. I know he was in a hurry to start using his new legs!! I know he was in a hurry to start that first round of golf, to catch that big fish, to bowl that perfect game, and when he could find the time paint a fence somewhere. He saw no reason to waste anymore time in his earthly body.

I am glad it happened so quickly. I am glad that in his last days he didn't seem to suffer. I am glad that all of this happened in the hospital, and not when he was home alone with grandma. I am glad he didn't have to suffer as some seniors do, alone in a hospice, or have a prolonged and slow and drawn out miserable death. Again I am forever grateful for grandmas heroic decision. I admire her strength and courage to let go. I admire her selflessness in not wanting 'that inhumane machine life' for grandpa.

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I am still going to give my blood, because there are other grandpas out there that need it. I believe all of the grandsons are going to be pallbearers. I want more than anything to photograph his services. More than anything I don't want anybody to give me dirty looks. This past weekend while grandpa was in his room and while he was passing I took pictures. One family member gave me a dirty look and gestured No. I stopped. More than one family member want copies of those images. My mother was not here for his passing, neither was her sister, neither was her brother. At the very least if they chose to ever see these images they will appreciate them for what they are and know that he was truly at peace and comfortable, even if they could not be there themselves.

I want to do this not being I am trying to be disgusting or morbid, but because I see the love and emotion and I am not the only one that wants to remember these days. I take beautiful photos. I want and most of the family want to remember these last days. Is that too much to ask for?

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As my last, please instead of telling me that you're sorry for my loss, (but my family will appreciate those words as well as any prayers or good wishes you send their way) and If your grandpas are still around when you see them again, be sure to give them a big hug for me (grandmas too) .. Grandpa had the best last days he could have had under any circumstances and he did recover, just not in the way I was hoping. He will live on on our memories with my family forever. Thank you for reading to the end.

My cousin wrote about grandpa here. Please take the time to read his as well.

Early morning wake up calls.

This morning my roomate cousin came home several hours early (five am), while he usually calls me before coming home to unlatch the door, the first words out of my mouth when he called were if I had overslept. He said I had not, but that he wanted to know if I didn't mind if we made our trek down south to the rest of the family super early this weekend.

With the big holiday looming, I said sure not thinking anything out of the ordinary. When he got home he starts furiously packing and shows me that his hands are shaking, shaking to the point of ... well of me worrying. But I don't panic. I asked if he was ok and jokingly asked if he had OD'd on caffeene. He said no, just that he had lots on his mind. (must have been lots more than Cinders disappearing at midnight, AGAIN) I dismissed his shakes while he went on to pack and tell me about his night, like he does every morning. I tried to pack up as quickly as he did, but he had loaded up mine AND his stuff while I was still packing in my morning drunken stupor. Ok, something is up I think to myself ~ but me being the person I am, I don't usually ask questions. If people want me to know something they will tell me when they are ready.

We hit the road at 6am and drive south to the family hive getting in a little after 7am. Everyone in the house was still sleeping except the parents. They were getting dressed. Somebody mentioned going to the hospital.

And again the music in my life soundtrack not only screetches but it stops momentarily.

First thing I though of was my future mommy cousin, and yesterday was her birthday. I had just talked to her around 10:30pm the night before because her brother insisted that I call her and tell her happy birthday. I joke whined in my toony voice 'Wasn't her semi-made myspace b-day graphic good enough'? I called her and we had our usual short chat. I hated to think that the house was empty because she was not in it, (my stomace literally flipped) and that was why we were going to the hospital. But good news it wasn't her.

The bad news: It was our grandpa.

My cousin didn't want to tell me because he thought I might panic. What he didn't know was this was the kind of news that I can handle as I've had my share of xmas downers. If I had known, I woulda been the one driving and not him because you didn't see how bad he was shaking. Also the morning story he told me, was about grandpa and not some random patient. I stood there in the entry way, I was floored by the news.

When my cousin mentioned his patient this morning and described the exact symptoms that our grandpa had suffered. My response was that it sucked to be that family for the season and they might have a hard time ahead, but they would eventually get thru it. That is another spin I have on my life. It's not that I'm not emotional or that I don't care, but in some situations I don't see the need to get upset as it doesn't help. It won't make the bad news better. You can't think clearly if you are overly emotional. While crying does help, it doesn't really solve anything. Though I do admit, crying does help at times.

My aunt, uncle, Mannie and I drove to north Dallas to this beautiful hospital. I could tell before we went inside that grandpa was in good hands. We spent the morning waiting to see grandpa, my family filling up the ICU waiting room (as usual). In events like these its usually a mini family reunion, more so than the typical holiday meals, there is always that relative there that you have not seen in years, you have no clue who they are, but they know you (or vice versa) and you are mentioned how much you've grown and how long it's been since you were last seen. Hugs are exchanged and the huddling and laugher starts. With every family tragedy, even random good or bad hospital visits my family manages to fill the waiting room. We all sit around laughing and joking, while any other families sit and stare ahead in somber silence.

I never understood those quiet somber families. It's not that we're disrespecful, but being down doesn't ever do anybody anygood.

I wanted to hear first hand about his condition. I find it funny that as old as my cousin and I are, we still get treated as children. We started to make our way to his area a second time and the family kept saying not to disturb grandpa. I wanted to speak to a nurse, better yet his doctor (but there was no doctor to chat with). The nurse said that he his leg was looking good and healing normally (the whole reason he was in the hospital to begin with). She was giving him as much fluids as he could take, but keeping him hydrated was a bit of an issue. His bodily functions were starting to stabilize. He had also lost 6 units of blood and the reason for it was an undetected ulcer that had ruptured while he was recovering from his leg surgery.

We left the hospital, and found out a few hours later that my grandpa is doing much better but his ulcer is still being a thorn in his side they plan to keep him in ICU for a while longer, just to keep an eye on him. He's in good hands and I trust he will have a steady recovery.
I read on red cross the average person has between 10-12 units, so he lost about as much as half of his blood. That number is better than what I originally thought, which was 8 units. At the very least I asked here where I could donate my own blood to grandpa. She suggested that I go to the admin building, but she could not answer that question herself directly. This kinda annoyed me, but I know that because of the stupid hospital politics, it's not as easy as just pulling up my sleeve, taking a seat, and pulling out a pint of fresh squeedly spooch.

I also know that even if I do donate my own blood, it's not very likely that my dear grandpa will ever have it run thru his veins. They do all sorts of tests now days, for any kind of cooties such as HIV or any other blood ickys. They also check for blood cell count, plasma and platelets and other unseen micro organisms that we take for granted. Not only that they cool it off and put thru all kinds of spinny CSI type tests just to make those lab techs go oooh and ahhh. That's why they get paid the big bux!

So anyway, sometime this weekend, in between visiting grandpa, celebrating the season, hangin with family, and trying to rest, I will be making a trip to the red cross and pulling up my sleeves to give to somebody what somebody gave to my grandpa, another chance at life, and that's better than any gift out there.

shrimpies & kitties

So last night I gather up my ingredients to make my yummy scampi. I use this recipe and have added a few of my own embellishments to make it my own (red peppers, grape tomato halves and fresh parmesan cheese). Trust me this recipe is one of the best ones out there, at least in my opinion. I hope if you try it out, you will enjoy it as much as I (and anyone else I've cooked it for) have.

I also made an awesome dessert of fresh strawberries and raspberries in balsamic vinegar with a touch of sugar. This photo is an archive from my flickr stuff, so there are no raspberries in it. Looking at this photo though really makes me miss my old camera. Ah well, I'll get another one eventually.

I don't have much to entertain you with today because yesterday when I was cooking my kitty Cinders decided to go on an adventure when I wasn't looking. I had the front door open when I was cooking and while she is really good at staying close when she goes out side, there is also another neighbor here that has a dog bigger than Zoey. So Cinders couldn't make it back to the safety of the house and found a really good hiding spot. I doubt the other dog or it's owner even had a clue that Cinders was out wandering about.

Well while I was cooking I heard the other dog outside, and had that little panic. I casually called out for Cinders . . . Nothing. I set my cooking tools down, and look in her usual hiding spots . . . Nothing. I ask Zoey if she knows where Cinders is, and she just gives me a cute look. I poke my head outside and call for Cinders, the dog and owner pay me no attention . . . No response from Cinders. Mannie finishes his morning routine, I ask if he can go Cinder hunting while I finish my cooking. He takes a walk around with Zoey trying to help (but we really wanted her to stay inside at this point). He looks for about 10-15 minuets with no luck.

I don't want to start to panic because that will do me no good, but she IS a black cat and for some reason people like to start shit with black cats because they're stupid and have little brain squigglies and think black cats are bad luck or something.

Right before the cooking is all done Cinders decides to come out of hiding (she was camping out in the laundry room). Mannie yells at her and she scampers the few feet back to the apartment and the door was closed so she couldn't run right back in. Ah well, at least she was safe ~ and that other dog had no clue she was ever outside.

While we were eating, we had the door open and she kept trying to sneak back out, but this time we had the compressed air can to keep her away!

Here are your pictures. There are no finished product pix but I'm sure you can understand why :) Don't forget to check out the recipe on food network.

Start out with shrimp, I prefer frozen and already mostly deveined. Take the time to remove their shells and get rid of the 'other' vein otherwise you sometimes have a sorta sandy texture with each bite ~ and yea, that's just not sexy. Add some salt, pepper and red chili flakes as well as some lemon juice to the resting shrimp. In your pan warm up some olive oil and butter, add the garlic and scallions until the scallions are translucent. Add in the shrimp and cook until they're pink. Remove and set aside to make the scampi sauce.

Here is my italian flag, chopped parsley. If you can find it, use italian parsley since it's not as heavy as regular parsley, but today I used regular parsley. Those are also chopped scallions and garlic, and in the last pic are my grape tomatos and red peppers. Yummy!

Ok, for the sauce, add some more butter and olive oil, some wine, water from the boiling pasta, and lemon juice. Bring this to a boil until it starts to thicken, then add in the rest of the linguine. At this point you can also add in the red ingredients and return the cooked shrimp to the pan. Mix it up and let this cook up until it looks like the consistency you want to eat it, for me this is about 5-7 minutes.

Add it to a bowl, sprinkle some parsley and parmesian and enjoy! Hmm, I keep forgetting to make some garlic bread. Oh well, I'll remember one day :)

Taco Tuesday!

You know this isn't so bad, being away from *home* that is. I've HAD and keep GETTING these major joneses for fish ever since I got here and I keep telling myself: "Just adapt to beef damit, it's ALL anybody eats here". I mean fish was (and will continue to be a major part of my diet, I'm just gonna have to cut WAY back on the sashimi/sushi, because here you have to take out a small mortgage just to eat the stuff).

You know what? Fish is just better for you damit, but I do need to eat some more cow. See I have this problem with my iron count being way too low (like on some iron scale I'm a 9 or a 10 normally and I'm supposed to be a 12) so the cow will do me some good. Mooooo.

Anyway, on my way to the DFW area, I passed my this mom and pop restaurant in the middle of nowhere called "La Salsa", but it wasn't the food chain that I'm used to. Seeing it made me want one of their veggie bean burritos and thinking about them tasty burritos also made me think of this other restaurant called "Rubio's" who happen to have some of the best chain-food type fish tacos. Today also happens to be Rubio's $.99 Fish Taco Tuesday.

Anyway when I was planning out my menu earlier this week. I went to the fish counter at Krogers, looked at their fresh water white fish selection and saw buried under some of the other fish some seafood, a treasure of flounder!!! Could it be? Is it really there? YES!! So I ask the fishie guy for 1/3 of a lb of the treasure flounder. He wraps it up and as my cousin takes the fish from his hand, and before he puts it in the basket, he brings the wrapped fish paper up to his nose and inhales... My cousin said the fishie guy looked at him funny, I'm sure that if I saw him do that, I prob woulda smelled the fishie paper too. Of course this next moment would not have been as sweet as it was:

As it was, when I unwrapped the fish from the fridge today this wonderful aroma of fresh ocean fish filled the kitchen. AND OMG, It made me really miss the smell of the SD air. I totally miss that ocean smell and no candle or plugin in the world will ever come close to that beautiful aroma of fresh salty ocean air. This miracle treasure flounder came in really close though. The funny thing is, when ever I would cook fishies in SD, I could never understand what the TV chefs were talking about when they said to smell your fish. (I know what you're thinking with my last statement and you have a dirty mind!!!) Whenever I smelled my fish, it just smelled well like nothing.... Guess it was cause I was surrounded by that wonderful salty ocean cucumberey air. Who know's.

I had to do a little bit of leftover shopping today to pick up some missed items from yesterdays trip. I forgot the sour cream, the bread crumblies and the perfect peanut oil. Oops. I also went and picked up a cheap food processor. I've come to the conclusion that it will be the *hot* item / salsa processor or at the very least, it'll be used to grind up dry spices. Cause the blade thingie isn't solid, it's hollow which means it's gonna be a haven for nasty thingies if I happen to not wash it immediately after using it. (le sigh).

I get home, my cousin was sleeping (he work's nights) and I made the pink chili sauce. Lucky for me the blade noises didn't wake him up. The other good thing is the sauce had the chance to marinade in itself.... yummy... I also chopped / shredded up some cabbage. A side note about the cabbage. My cousin picked up this cabbage and I kid you not it was the size of a bowling ball!!!! In SD we're lucky if you get a cabbage that's the size of bocce ball (that's lawn bowling for rich old peeps). I just sat there staring at this freak cabbage, but you know what? It was soooo yummy!! I also chopped up about 5 limes into tiny wedges for the fish, the sauce and the taco garnish... mmm.. My mouth is watering again just writing this.

Chipotle Lime Sour Mayo

1 7oz can of Chipotle peppers, use only 1-2 peppers from the can (or more if you're daring)
equal parts mayonnaise & sour cream
lime juice and zest
salt & pepper
* mix in food processor and let refrigerate for about 2 hours, tastes better the longer you let it sit.

Now for the fun part. FISHIE GOODNESS!!!

Heat peanut oil to about 375 degrees.
Salt and pepper the fish and spritz with lime juice
For the fish batter mix 2 eggs and 1 TSP of fish broth (or water if you don't have broth) and soak the fish for about 2-5 minutes.
Next batter the fish in Panko bread crumbs (they say you can find these in the asian isle, but I found them hiding in the baking isle with the other bread crumbs) (and if you like Tempura, these are the same bread crumbs)
Let the fish kinda come to room temperature before putting them in the hot peanut oil
Cook for about 3-5 minutes until they're golden.
Once finished let them rest on one of those cookie baking cooling thingies, so the oil doesn't soak and cool in the fish.

Hehe, now time to play dress up with the tacos. My favorite part!!

Mannie's taco, can you tell that he really liked the chipotle sour mayo

One of my tacos. Ah the limey goodness!!

Oh yea, there's those corn tortilla thingies. Heat up some more peanut oil in a diff pan, about 1 TBSP will do, or at least enough to cover the bottom of the pan. Pop in the tortilla and flip it around for about 30-45 seconds. Any longer and you will have a fish tostada not a fish taco.

All I have to say is this meal really satisfied my fish craving (at least temporarily) and definitely settled down my little bit of homesickness. <>My fish tacos also taste better than Rubios!! < / end brag >

I was a little worried that I didn't get enough fish but Mannie said that it was likely going to be more than enough. However when I looked at the fish strip, it did look kinda skimpy. I *almost* snuck out and bought some more fish. Lucky for me (and because it was my first attempt here at this meal *another one of the foods Mannie said he really didn't care for* we almost had too much fish!! I feel really satisfied with my meal and was defiantly in no say stuffed. Even though it was fried food, it was very light and it didn't have that over powering taste of fish funk that most people complain about.

This is the 4th time somebody has said that about the fish I've made for them, and that makes me a very happy cook. Tomorrow, the ever famous shrimp scampi!!!

Filet Mignon & Asparagus

Who needs restaurants when you can eat better at home? Today my 'roomate' (my cousin) and I went out to Kroger to go food shopping. I had a sorta menu planned out for the week with no intent of eating out until all our food is gone ~ leftovers and all.

Sometime a week or two ago I went out solo food shopping and got some stuff to make shrimp scampi. After I started cooking it I remembered him telling that he wasn't a really big fan of el shrimpies. Hmm... Oh well!! I thought about this for a few minuets and came to the conclusion that if he didn't like it, well then there was more pasta for me!!!

The funny thing is, in the middle of cooking it turned out that he was short a cork screw for the white wine sauce. Long story short ~ I ended up knocking on his neighbors door and asking for said cork screw, getting it and then later giving this nice man the FRESHEST leftovers you could imagine. I mean the noodles were still steaming, that's how fresh they were!!! When we came back from the weekend there was a nice note on the door about how 'awesome' the scampi was. I'm sure the nice neighbor is glad he loaned out that cork screw.

As for my cousin, I noticed that he picked a rather small portion to start off with, ATE IT ALL and I swear I saw him lick his bowl (but I can't confirm that). He then proceeded to get up, walk to the kitchen and get a heaping larger second portion, so much for not liking shrimpies eh? He then went to work and raved about the shrimpies to all his coworkers. (Who know know me as the shrimp chick, yup they know all about my scampi).

This past week I was explaining to him how I like my filet mignon's. So today we head out to the market, pick up supplies and drive home. Also this past weekend I brought back all my caphalon cookware (which is gonna make cooking SOOOO much easier!!) I was also debating on whether to leave certain pots back at my parents place, but that was like trying to decide which child is your favorite and you just can't. So I packed them all in my car and brought them all over. I'm SOOO glad I did too!!

So here I am, in this new kitchen in this new state in this new home about to prepare what I am hoping is going to be another masterpiece. I always get nervous about cooking and worry that it's gonna turn out like crap. This has only happened once before, but I ate my food anyway since it seemed such a waste to not eat my hard earned failure.

Anyway. I'm a big Food Network junkie so if you want the recipes my favorite chefs are Tyler, Giada, Alton, Michael C, Bobby and Ina. I mix and match their ingredients and add my own flair. But here's what I used for this masterpiece:

Asparagus
Balsamic Vinegar
Salt & Pepper
Garlic
Cherry or Grape Tomatoes cut in halves
(try and marinate these for at least 2 hours)

Filet Mignon, 6 oz & 8 oz pieces, wrapped in Bacon Strips, held in place with WET toothpicks
Merlot
Balsamic Vinegar
Olive Oil
Salt & Pepper

Heat pan on high heat and coat with olive oil to a smoke, drop in filets & add a little merlot. Sear filets for 1-2 minutes. Prior to this turn oven to 450 degrees, add filets in pan to the oven for about 8-10 minutes. Remove and let cool; while the filets are cooling....

Add the Asparagus to the dirty filet pan on medium heat for about 5-8 minutes (so it cooks in the filet juices in addition to the greeney marinade.)

Serve and enjoy the pretties!! (Though next time I'm adding some cutsie red mashed potatoes)

Now when we were eating these goodies, we drank some of the merlot and let me tell you it went STRAIGHT to my head, but was soooooo yummy and went purfeeect with the balsamic vinegar sauces. OMG and the seared flesh off the filets with the crusties from the salt and pepper... SOOOO yummy. The filets just melted when you stabbetied them with your fork.

As for tomorrow; check out my fish tacos. I just gotta find me a cheapy food processor to make the Spicy-Cool Chipotle Cream. My mouth is already watering!!!