Mexican food.

So I was having not the best day yesterday.  I never said my life was easy and sometimes living out my faith isn't as easy as I'd like it to be.  One of the things I write the blog for is to tell my story.  Earlier, I told you the front half.  Here's the back half.

I don't do pity parties very well.  It's just not something God wants for, nor allows me to participate in.  A lot of times, that's my problem.  It's hard to empathize with someone who isn't strong.  So sometimes God has to introduce some strife into my life to make me realize that He's the strong one.  Not me.

I took a nap today.  My body rested.  My mind didn't.  After that didn't work out so hot, I got up.  I went outside and noticed the curb needed sweeping.  There were weeds growing in my gutter that were tall.  It was full of leaves and pinecones.  Not anymore.  I took care of it.  My back has been hurting and the lawn has kinda suffered for it.  It's not as nice as I normally keep it because it hurts quite a bit to do stuff.  I will pay for yesterday today.

My bathroom mirror was dirty.  The toilet in the main bathroom needed a scrub.  I cleaned the carpet in my bedroom.   I did some dishes.  I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies.  I walked up to the garden and picked what was ripe and hadn't been shared with the deer.

I made salsa.  I cut up everything by hand in little tiny pieces.  I took the dogs for a walk.  I heard from my Who.  That really helped.  I don't tell her about my problems because she has enough of her own to carry, but just talking to her about the things in her life today made me feel better.

I'm not as upset as I was and I got a ton of stuff done in a very short period of time.  Working it out involved working out, and as often happened, what changed was me.  A quick trip to the grocery store for some cilantro proved to be a good idea.  Sometimes God is working things in my life that I don't understand in the moment for something else and I just have to trust that ultimately, this will be one of those moments.

I trust God that much.

So this is about Mexican food.  You may not know it, but it is.

I wrote about chinese food the other day and almost went that way.  The deciding factor was making pico.  A trip to Smith's for some cilantro turned into some burger, an avocado, a package of taco shells, and taco seasoning.  I so would have made enchiladas, and still might.  But my problem is that I cannot eat mexican food like a normal person.

Again, I blame my mom.

Back in the day, there was this little mexican joint in Salt Lake on 8th South and West Temple, right across from the Coca-Cola bottling plant.  It was called Manuel's.  You walked in, ordered off a paper by circling what you wanted on it.  The cashier rang you up, submitted your order, and they made it.  Mexican food was a scoop of rice, a scoop of beans, a taco, an enchilada, and a tamale.  It came on a paper plate.  It was covered in another paper plate for a lid and wrapped in plastic wrap to keep it warm.

So, I have a hard time with just tacos.  Or just enchiladas. Or..., well you get the picture.

I want a bite of everything.

So on the stove are the pork chops I was gonna turn into sweet and sour.  That will have to wait until payday...the fryer needs clean grease.  They're gonna be shredded into something.  There will be guacamole.  And pico.  And rice.  And beans.

Cooking is sometimes a therapy.  It keeps me busy.  Busy was a good thing, because as I was busy, I was less and less upset about things.  Some crap got done around here, which needed to happen.  My back still hurts, but I made a dent in things.  I found some treasures still growing in the garden, which are appreciated.