BC, our home, is in a deep freeze. Having lived there more than half my life, I don't think I've seen many stretches where it gets under -7C (19.4F). "Oh muffin!" you East and Midwest family and followers are crying. I can hear you. I can hear you from sunny California. Heh heh (evil laughter).
Yesterday, we were the only family at the pool. I'm sure the locals were labeling us silly Canadian geese for hanging out there in the path of a dust storm. When, as a child, we visited my grandparents in Puerto Rico, the neighbours thought the same when we went to the beach in January, Puerto Rican winter.
We're enjoying our fourth Christmas in the desert, which starts with a visit to Cardenas, the local Hispanic supermarket. Shopping there, the beat of Latin background music had customers and staff dancing down the aisles. I didn't want to leave, experiencing one of those strong "I want my (now deceased) Mommy" moments. She would have been in heaven, so to speak, shopping at Cardenas. Much of the produce is two pounds for $1 and filet mignon was $4.99/lb. I bought ten pounds of pork shoulder to cook Pernil for $1.47/lb. The grocery samples were flan and horchata. There is a fresh chicharron bar and a giant tortilla machine, turning our hundreds per minute, not of my Puerto Rican background, but yummy just the same.
My pernil version marinated for four days and is currently in the oven for four of its seven hours. The beans have been cooking since this morning and the house smells divine. The tree was decorated yesterday, without rushing the season (the basis of my major incident of childhood trauma, when I accidentally set the house afire), and we're ready for company.
Daughter M and husband KC, are here from Calgary, and B, although working this weekend, has joined us. Tonight's Puerto Rican feast will be for KC's local family and tomorrow cousin Lene arrives from Denmark. Let the good times continue...