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Rio Rancho, New Mexico, United States
I'm a Proud Navajo, Father, Husband, Brother, Son, and Friend. I'm all about cheap thrills, guitar pickin', and writing about the adventures of my life. I'm never politically correct.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

We had a good weekend. We went to the 6th Annual Pork 'N Brew Championships. I'm not sure why they call it the Pork 'N Brew because there was plenty of pork but no sign of Brew, well, except for the beer garden which served plain ol' Bud and such...no real fun in that. Well, anyway, we made our rounds taking the bbq samples as went along. Before we knew it we were full. Geez, we still had a bunch of bbq bucks to burn so we walked and walked and people watched. We went and sat for a beer and checked out the pig races before we went back in for the final round of barbeque. We tried all that we could but we were too dang full to go any further. We had a couple of bbq bucks left so luckily we found a stand with natives in there making fried bread with pulled pork. What a combo! After that, we went home and too a post bbq nap. Don'cha hate it when you get the bbq burps later? lol

Sunday was cool too and made me a little sad. Well, it was movie day. We packed up the kids and jumped into the truck. It still had the aroma of burned fire wood and dust. Just so happens, that the radio was dialed in to KTNN from Window Rock. Having all these senses filled made pull up some memories of my Nali's. My Nali's home always smelled of burned firewood and was kinda dusty. Tracked in mud always turned to dust. The radio tuned to the Navajo stations really made me remember both of them... as my Nali' Aszdaan would be weaving while listening to the Navajo Church ladies sing slightly off key and nasally on KNDN. I remember on my visits to her that she would cook up what ever she had with coffee and fresh tortillas... Man, I miss those tortillas. Even if it was Coronado Bologna thick sliced and pan fried with a green chile (or cayenne pepper)(commodity cheese would make it heavenly) on a fresh tortilla it was the best meal ever.

I think the only English word that my Nali' Hosteen knew was "shit". He was a character... and a good rancher. We used to go feed the cows during the winter time and my truck reminded me of those drives down to Two Grey Hills where we'd go to get a piece of peanut patty, y'know that big pink patty with peanuts in it, a six pack of Shasta Cola, and a piece of mutton for when we get back to the house. The drive down in the valley was always nice, we'd turn off and take a bumpy dirt road to where the cows hung out. My Nali' would honk the horn and then we'd bust up the bales of hay and then watched the cows come from miles around. Our brand was a backward C and pink ear tag. I'd try to chase off the others but a few managed to get a little.

I miss my Nali's.

What a good weekend. I spent it with my family.

Happy Randy Castillo Day.... well, a couple of days ago.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

That's living.

Jerome wishes he was just watching sheep in the meadow....sipping warm Shasta cola and munching on Vienna sausages and crackers. That's living.