Saturday we woke up to the site of an icy winter land. Overnight the precipitation froze into a light sheet that covered everything. Small pellets of sleet were falling from the sky and it was a mere sixteen degrees with a windchill of zero. It was a beautiful site.
I decided to cook upo some chorizo potato. Rather than do the usual tacos, I uppped my game by making crispy tostadas. I burnt the shit out of my first batch of tortillas, but the second was crispy golden. Add a lite layer of melted cheese and top with an over easy egg, I had crafted a delightfully delicious breakfast for Teegan, Yvette and myself.
After a shower and coffee I decided it was time to take a little walk. It was indeed fridged, but the roads really were not that slippery to walk upon. I made my way to the campus and saw some other signs of life. Bored students with nothing else to do. I also saw one of the strangest things that I’ve ever seen on the campus: A burning barrel in one of the dorm parking lot s. I didn’t see anyone attending it. I assume that the campus police hadn’t made their rounds just yet, of the simply didn’t care.
Later I decided to journey to the store. We needed baby shampoo. The roads were a little scary, I must admit. I only lost traction once on the way to and from.
The store, after the last week, was relaxing. I didn’t want to leave. I just.. walked. I shopped with ease and peace. I was happy. I made myself stay longer just k owing that the roads and likely hood of me getting out the following day would be very slim. What a shopping experience.
The end of the night I watched some UFC with Teegan. That is something I have never done. Watch UFC. He was really exciting and telling me everything I didn’t know. I don’t watch fights. Haha. It was actually a very great experience. I love this kid and will miss the fuck out of him when he leaves for college.
Sunday we woke up and I made some more breakfast. I had found some dehydrated shredded beef at HEB that is traditionally used to make Machacado, so that’s what I set out to do. Turns out, that makes a world of difference. In the past I’ve always used brisket, but the dried beef was a winner a reflected what I had always ordered at burrito shops for years.
The day was still cold as fuck. The sun was peaking through but not wanting to show itself. The outside pipe to the washer seemed to have froze, but we had prepared for that by keeping up with laundry. Unfortunatly, our water heater issue seemed to have came full circle leaving us once again with very Luke warm showers. So fucking weird.
Yvette and I spent a lot of time over the weekend watching Big Little Lies. I had watched the show nine years ago so it was pretty much new to me. I recalled the major plot points but not all the drama that happened in between. We enjoyed it.
The thing is, I only watched season one. The season was only based on the one book and it ended. They made a second seasons that I refused to watch. Haha. I guess we were going to watch season two.
I took another walk and the roads were full on shit. TERRIBLE SHIT. People driving were afraid to see Hazel and I walking because they might slide into us. I understand. Maybe if it’s that bad just don’t fucking drive unless you absolutely have to. They dog and I could barely walk a block.
The weekend I had a lot of anger. None of it was pointed towards anyone that was at the house. I just don’t understand people. People I know and people around the world. People take great things for granted. People died on the streets. PEOPLE ARE SHIT. I honestly hate most people. Fuck us! People tend to be selfish and only care about what immediately benefits them. People are cruel scared ignorant and unwillling to admit they re wrong. Fuck humanity.
Anyone reading this: think for a second about what you believe in. When you open your eyes, do you see the world we are currently living in? Does it make you happy? Is this what you wanted? This world of chaos? Cruelty? Is this what you wanted? I grew up with the lord and the church and I can tell you right now this is not what I believe in or what the Holy Bible teaches.
Monday was a bad weather day so the campus was closed due to the icy conditions. I’d take it. I decided to sleep in for a change. Why the hell not.
When I did finally wake up and start moving, I found some guest had come over. It was a gathering of Yvette’s family. The first of two of the day. Noah, Nadia, and the in-laws all showed up. I guess just because the roads were better and they wanted out of the house. I don’t think their arrival was planned. It was nice to see some other faces and I think Alaya needed it.
Afterwards. I made some beef ravioli and decided it was time for a little walk to the campus to check out the conditions. I will say that the roads were much better, but areas not in direct sunlight were terrible. Hazel and I did enjoy the sunlight for the first time in days.
When I came back to the house I owed Yvette some time alone. Alaya and I played together for a good hour and it was great. Who knew a little baby could cook so well. The perfect pairing of lemon and dumplings.
I made a random trip to HEB just to get out of the house. When I got back home, so did Lola. After three days. Word must have gotten out she was home because Noah, Nadia and the in-laws all showed up. Coincidence? I don’t know. I also don’t know what conversations were had.
We cooked and we had fun. Alaya was happy to see other people besides her grandparents.
Tuesday was another bad weather day off work. The weather was actually quite perfect. I slept in and everyone took off to get Teegan’s truck from my mother’s, where it has been since Friday evening covered and out of the elements. I took my time getting ready for the day. I didn’t really have anything I had to do so why not.
The day was pretty much consumed by watching the second season of Big Little Lies, cooking and taking Hazel for a walk. What a way to spend the day off.
Going into work on Wednesday just felt off. It felt like a Monday, but worse, because we only had three days of work. I couldn’t find the groove. Starting in the middle of the week is always a challenge—you press on the gas, only to immediately hit the brakes.
When Friday arrived, it felt suspiciously like Wednesday. There was a little sadness in the air on campus, especially in my area. You see, the end of January is often when people retire, and this time we were losing a guy who had been here for 22 years. He’s an excellent worker and an all-around good guy. He’ll be missed—not just for what he did, but for always being there when the campus needed him, often without even being asked. I know I’ll miss him, though I’ll likely still see him around town with his wife, enjoying a cold craft beer.
Saturday, we all took our time getting going. It was a nice, slow-paced day. I grilled some pork and potatoes for lunch, and we sort of went our separate ways for a little while.
Yvette and I had a movie date: The Housemaid. A tense thriller about a struggling woman who lands a job as a live-in maid for an uber-wealthy family. Let’s just say things are not what they first appear. It’s really hard to talk about the film without spoiling key plot points. You get the usual affairs and candle-lit creepiness you’d expect from a movie like this. The mystery was captivating, and we both enjoyed it. I knew it would be right up Yvette’s alley.
That evening, Noah, Nadia, and Niles were over, and we just visited and had a good ol’ time. It was exactly how I like a Saturday to play out. Just a damn good day.
Sunday, I woke up and decided I was not ready for the day yet, so I laid back down. I wasn’t planning on sleeping for three more hours, but that’s what I did. Oops.
I got up and took another lukewarm shower. Damnit—I needed a plumber. Wide awake, I grilled Tee a couple of beer brats, then we went over to Yvette’s parents’ house for burgers and football. The Texans versus the Patriots. Sloppy game. The Texans looked and played like shit. So many turnovers. The poor quarterback looked like he was actively helping the Patriots win. It was a sad sight.
After the game, I decided a little manual labor would help, so I elected myself to bury the irrigation hole after the kid fixed the leak. No need for him to do the heavy work when I was perfectly able.
That night, while scrolling Facebook, I made a disturbing discovery about someone I knew as a child. Arrested for child pornography involving a one-year-old. I was sick to my stomach. The weird little boy I knew growing up had become some sort of monster. What in the hell happened to him over the years? What kind of sickness warps a mind into something like that? He has a reputable family—a good upbringing, to my knowledge. What the fuck. The revelation haunted me all night. It haunted me the following day. Sick fuck.
MLK Day! Woot!! No work for us. It was a pretty uneventful day. What did happen was our water suddenly became hot again. The heater stopped constantly running, and we could no longer hear the sound of water flowing. It was like there was a buildup in the line or tank that finally blew through. A mystery to us, but at least we had warm water again.
When the week finally rolled around, I was back out on campus—my first time since before Christmas break. It was nice catching up with people and talking about how the holiday season treated everyone. I realized I did kind of miss the campus family.
One thing on everyone’s mind throughout the week was the pending weather. We were supposed to receive a good winter storm with the potential for ice and snow. The last bad weather we had was five years ago, now known as “The Winter Apocalypse of 2021.” Everyone has PTSD from that experience. I know I do. I lost power for three days and froze my ass off.
The campus and the town were bracing for impact. Grocery stores were a madhouse. The fear was real. My department was tasked with finding pallets of bottled water for all the dorms—back-and-forth trips to Sam’s. Lucky for me, I wasn’t part of that mess. Just a bystander.
When winter hits in Texas, it doesn’t gradually creep in—it springs forth like a jack-in-the-box. No one is ever really prepared. After a few store runs, I feel like my family should be able to make it through the weekend. Yvette’s dad added to my firewood supply. We have plenty of water and food. Hopefully, the power grid holds up. That’s all we can do—hope.
Oh, the weekend—how I do love thee. Saturday, I woke up on the couch, Alaya had taken my spot in the bed. The morning was cold. We got the girl up and running for gymnastics, and I stayed behind. I relaxed a little before getting after some projects. Or at least before convincing myself I was about to.
It was a very productive day. I did some digging in the backyard and found a water leak. I hate digging holes. There is no scenario where I think, You know what sounds fun today? Digging. But I was glad I found it. The hard work paid off. We know a kid who’s worked in irrigation for two years, and he came over with pretty much everything he needed to fix it. The people who laid the line did a half-ass job and must have just made whatever they had on hand work instead of doing the sensible thing. Even I knew it was a mess just by looking at it—and I don’t know irrigation. That should tell you something. Digging the hole saved the kid some time and work. Yay. He worked until it was dark, so the job needed a little more time the following day. Because of course it did.
We did the dye test on our toilets and found that one was indeed leaking—silently, like a sneaky little bastard. One of the plumbers hooked me up with a seal to replace on the flush kit, hoping for a simple, less costly fix. I took the damn thing apart and replaced the seal, fully expecting it not to work. Shockingly, it did. That did the trick. No more silent water leak. A rare plumbing victory for me.
Sunday, the kid came back over to work on the water line. He had everything, but alas, the problem wasn’t completely fixed. I think the glue just hadn’t set yet. I told him no worries, gave him some money, and told him to come back when he had time. The meter was turned off, and I had no plans to water the yard anyway. Thank God for a separate irrigation meter—otherwise our house would have been without water, and I would have lost it.
I hate dealing with the water department. Very rarely do you find someone who can actually help you, and more often than not, they’re downright hostile—as if you calling them was insulting. Monday was one of those cases. The lady was on the defensive the moment she answered the phone. I know I have a leak because I can hear the water; I just want to know how much is running. I’ve gone out to the meter and tried to figure it out myself, but the display is full of water and condensation. I can’t read shit. Which feels ironic.
After telling me multiple times that they wouldn’t do anything to make this right, I finally told her I was getting tired of having to call her department every time I suspected I had a fucking leak. Not in as many words. She blew me off, said she’d see what she could do, and basically hung up on me. Customer service at its finest. I’m not holding my breath.
I did finally find a plumber willing to come look for the leak. I’m sure I could’ve found many, but I didn’t want to use one of the big names—the ones with the flashy trucks and even flashier invoices. I contacted my friend, a real estate broker, and asked if he had anyone to suggest. The guy said he’d work me in. My “family” plumber was unreachable, and besides, he’s semi-retired.
After work, it was time to celebrate Lola’s 21st birthday. The immediate family and my mother gathered at Texas Roadhouse, a place I’ve never really understood. It’s always packed. Always. So packed, in fact, that the eleven of us had to wait about forty minutes to be seated. Apparently, people really love loud rooms, peanut shells, and steaks that taste exactly like you expect them to. Why the place is so popular is beyond me because I really don’t find the food all the appealing.
Still, it was a good time. They didn’t have room for all of us at one table, but we managed to sit close enough to shout across. We laughed and played with the babies. I ordered a beer so Lola wouldn’t be the only one drinking—purely out of solidarity, obviously. She finally got the margarita she’d been wanting ever since working there back in high school. Overall, it was a good experience, and I hope she had a great birthday.
Did I mention the cold finally found us? Again? It comes and goes on a whim, like it can’t quite commit. I like it to feel at least a little like the season we’re in. I don’t need it to be in the 80s in January. That’s just confusing for everyone.
I really hate the weeks I have to sit in the office. Have I told you that for the millionth time? If not, we’re getting close. I’m not someone who can sit still—I fidget constantly. I get bored quickly with the internet, which I didn’t think was possible. Time works differently when you’re doing very little. I stay busy with office duties and helping people—working on reports and receivers, replying to emails, answering calls from across campus—but I don’t like doing any of that shit, which makes the week feel endless. It’s like sitting in a doctor’s waiting room where the clock actively hates you.
I found a few moments of escape, but they were few and far between. I filled in for Troy on Monday, which got me out. I volunteered to deliver a 55” TV to the museum for IT to install, which bought me a solid twenty minutes of freedom. I had a shipment to pick up on the north side of town that required my credit card. I try to plan ahead for long office weeks—anything that gets me out of the building. I was lucky this week. Most weeks, I’m not.
The first day back after sixteen days off work is a brutal beast to conquer. I was weary and damn near broken by day’s end. I was fortunate to be out and about; otherwise, I might have transpired in the office—a corpse decomposing in his office chair. It was so slow that morning I almost felt my life ticking away.
After narrowly winning the war with work, we had my father-in-law to celebrate. His 69th birthday. Trust me, I wanted nothing more than to go home and lick my wounds, but a celebration is a celebration, and duty did call. My battle was just the beginning.
It was the family, and this scrimmage was upon my blood sugar. Spaghetti, garlic bread, and two types of cake. The dagger comes from within those you love the most. I felt like Caesar betrayed by Brutus. I did the best I could not to succumb to the darkness. Prevail, I did.
The long, hard kick in the nuts wasn’t yet over for me. Just when I imagined the suffering couldn’t endure any longer, Hell opened its gates upon me once more. Back on the home front, it was decided venison burgers must be grilled, otherwise the meat would spoil. This battle I wasn’t fighting alone. I had my good friend Miller to accompany me. With the bonus confidence, I went in swinging and came out victorious!!!
Never had one day been such a trial, and may never one ever again test the limits of my being. Bless thee.
By the gods, Tuesday the sun was shining upon me. I awoke rested, and work was less a torturous son of a bitch. Really uneventful. Yvette and I both had doctor’s appointments, and while hers were a little more time-consuming, mine took a mere ten minutes. It took longer getting to and from. What an easy forty dollars they made off my unfortunate soul.
Wednesday, I was on a blitz attack, kicking aside my foes one by one. I swiftly battled my way through the day and its tribulations. The only blow I received was a nail in my tire. It seemed the gods were with me, though, for the nail was—for once in my lifetime—not in the sidewall but planted dead center. I suppose that could also be considered a win.
The rest of the week I stayed on the offensive, taking on the world as it came at me. One battle after another, I was victorious. Yvette dodged the bullets by working from home, strategizing her own victory, for her real trial would be on Monday when she officially returned to the office. Poor girl had no idea what was in store for her.
On a more serious note: WTF is going on in this country? I mean, I could say this every damn day at this point. On Wednesday, a government-employed agent shot and killed a frightened woman who was only trying to get away from armed men with masks. An innocent woman. Who had just dropped off her six-year-old child. Shot in the face three times at point-blank range. The video was very clear. This was unprovoked. My eyes do not lie.
Now, you would think this would be met with outrage by all who had seen the video. You would think. What happened instead is frightening to behold. The Trump crowd is trying to spin this woman as a domestic terrorist who was using her vehicle as a weapon and trying to run over the ICE agent. That is the spin they are spinning. And people are listening to them!!! Even though they have eyes like I do, they are choosing not to believe what they can see. I don’t even know what to make of this. Our reality has become insane.
From the movie In the Mouth of Madness: “A reality is just what we tell each other it is. Sane and insane could easily switch places if the insane were to become the majority.”
This administration is a tragedy for a great country.
The first day of the long break found Yvette and I getting some much-needed sleep. It was weird not being awoken by Alaya on a weekend. When I got out of bed, I decided to make biscuits and gravy.
It was time to make tamales. Yvette took off to her parents’ place while I cleaned up the kitchen and got myself ready. This was the third year that I’ve helped make tamales with her family. When I got there, they had pretty much finished, but I was able to help with about two dozen. The finished product was so damn tasty.
After the work was done, we all sat down and watched the Texas A&M vs. Miami game. The game was 0–0 at half. It was a boring-ass game… until it wasn’t. The first points came from field goals—3–3. These teams decided to make moves during the fourth quarter. The Aggies made some serious mistakes toward the end of the game, including one fatal mistake while trying to tie it up. They threw what should have been a touchdown but instead ended up with an interception, winning the game for Miami. Terrible. Damn Aggies.
Christmas farm. So Yvette and I brought the little girl out to a farm on the outskirts of town. They had cocoa, cookies, Santa, and ponies. We really wanted to see if Alaya would ride the ponies, and to our delight, she did—with a smile. It was great and worth the almost hour-long wait.
After the pony ride, we got on a hayride dragged along by a tractor. She seemed entertained, and that’s what mattered. I know she likely won’t remember it, but Yvette and I will.
Sunday morning, Yvette was not happy when I awoke. Damn mothers and daughters. I swear it changes the mood in the whole house.
I made breakfast, took a walk, ran errands, and bullshitted around. We had the baby again. It was a good day.
Monday, we made a final stocking-stuffer run to a few stores. I went up into the attic to find one missing stocking, and while I was up there, I pulled down another Christmas tree. I thought the living room could use a little more light. I think it looked great.
Taking advantage of the day, I took Hazel for another walk. I feel like she deserves it. This sweet girl is ten years old. She isn’t the beast on a leash that she once was. All the pull has left her, which makes for a relaxed walking experience—yet it’s also rather sad. We all get old. Ten years ago, I also had a lot more pull in me.
That afternoon. I met my dear friend Art at the bar he was working. I ran into some old faces I hadn’t seen in a long time. These were my happy hour crew from the darker days of my life. A handful of older folk that accepted my youth with open arms. It was good catching up and laughing my ass off with them again.
That evening Yvette and I went to eat with my mom. We had some drinks and good laughs. My mom was spending Christmas in the Houston area so I wasn’t going to see her again until after the holiday. It’s rather sad not having her around on Christmas Day, but I’ll have Yvette’s family and they are great.
Tuesday, I assembled my new grill. It didn’t take all that long once I figured out how to read the instructions. Deciphering instructions can initially be a real bitch. I only had one goof-up that was easily fixed. I was excited to try this thing out, but I needed materials first.
Christmas Eve, I slept in at my mom’s while Yvette got up early to get her hair done. We weren’t supposed to be going to church until three, but around eleven I found out that Lola had changed the plans, and now we were going at one. What the hell!!!
I got dressed and finally made an executive decision on what to get my in-laws from the both of us: a gift card to a new steakhouse in town. That could be a good night out for the two of them. I want them to enjoy themselves alone for a change. They do so much cooking for everybody—they deserve a break.
Back at the house, I quickly cut my hair and got dressed for church. This is such a weird church experience compared to what I grew up with. I swear, it’s like a fucking rock concert. So weird, but enjoyable enough. It’s only once a year, and I like sharing this single church event with the family.
Afterward, Yvette and I went to visit her grandparents. Grandfather had recently taken a fall—recently as in the day before. Poor guy. He was lucid but looked pretty banged up. I can relate; I’ve fallen a few times myself. You look worse for the wear. He was tired of people looking at him.
That night it was time for Die Hard. I snuck it in early before everyone wanted the “real” Christmas movies. It’s been a Christmas Eve tradition for my brother and me for years, so I figured, why the hell not. We also made Christmas cookies. I must say, it was different having a family in the house on Christmas Eve. I’d never experienced that before.
It was one of the best Christmas Eves I’ve had in years. It’s been a long time since I’ve ended my evening with people instead of alone. My heart was warm with joy.
Christmas morning, we were all out of bed by 8:30 to open presents. It was fun watching the little ones rip apart the paper with a senseless sort of joy. All the kids knew what they were getting, but even then, the spirit was in the air and everyone was happy. I wish I could have gotten them more, but going in with Yvette allowed us to buy bigger-ticket gifts.
Guamanian BBQ pork, chicken, cucumber salad, wasabi crab salad, and red rice. Late lunch was at my brother-in-law’s house. It was a real feast and different for me. I was happy to have something with a real kick to it. The crab salad was something special—unlike anything I’d ever thought crab could taste like.
What made this Christmas feel unlike Christmas was the damn temperature being 80 degrees and the AC kicking on. Everyone made note of it.
I guess we spent about four hours over at RJ’s house. The entire damn day flew by far too fast. How the hell does that happen? I guess it means we were all enjoying each other.
Yvette got me Neil Young’s Tonight’s the Night 50th Anniversary Edition. It was the album in full, unlike how it had ever been released before. It had been teased since before I was born. My dad would listen to this album when I was a baby in the crib. I know I can’t recall those days.
On a trip to Austin when I was young, we stopped by a music store. My dad picked up some albums on CD that he only had on vinyl—CDs were the rage in the ’90s. One of the albums he grabbed was Tonight’s the Night. In the car ride home, he put it on. When I heard the opening bass line, a sense of familiarity washed over me. I got goosebumps. Later, my father told me we used to listen to this together when I was a baby.
I was excited to play this version of the album featuring tracks that got cut due to time. My dad always told me the album was recorded live in the studio in one night. Later, I read about it and wanted the uncut version he spoke of. Thirty-plus years later, I finally have it.
I knew hearing the album for the first time since my father passed eight years ago would affect me. I didn’t know I’d start sobbing like a baby. I know the original cuts like I know my own face in the mirror, but the additional tracks felt familiar and not at all out of place. This was the definitive version I was hearing for the first time. Thank you, Yvette, for getting it for me. I only wish my dad were here to hear it with me. I love him. I miss him.
Christmas night, Yvette and I had Alaya again and took her with us to watch my mother’s dogs. We watched a Christmas movie—Office Christmas Party. It was funny, but not great. Alaya was just having a blast with my mother’s dog, Boa. She loves him and follows him around.
It was a damn good Christmas. I did miss my side of the family, but I was lucky to have Yvette’s family there. It’s good to spend the day with those you love and who love you back. Merry Christmas!!
Friday, Yvette and I just relaxed on the couch and didn’t leave my mother’s house until after three in the afternoon. We watched some “Hallmark”-quality Christmas movies, and later I put on Wake Up Dead Man. We lost track of time, and I rushed home to throw a rack of ribs in the oven for dinner.
During the three hours the ribs cooked, I ran some errands and did a little grocery shopping. Yvette’s aunts came over with some Christmas gifts. Once the ribs were done, we dove in and ate like pigs.
Saturday, we lounged again at my mother’s before she got home with the nephews. It was a warm 80 degrees outside, so we went out for a little patio lunch. How often does one get that chance on December 27th? Take advantage of the unseasonably warm weather.
My mom got back into town with my oldest nephews. I was excited to see them, and we all went out to dinner at Lakehouse Pizzeria. All the family was there except Lola and Alaya, sadly. It was a great time—and the food. Chef’s kiss.
That night was quiet. I watched an episode of Stranger Things and had some spiked hot chocolate. Relaxed. The house was quiet without the little girl. Too quiet.
The next day, I went to meet everyone over at the in-laws’. What a treat it was: steak and baked potato. This was what we were originally going to have for Christmas dinner, so I was excited to finally be having it. Everything turned out great.
After lunch, I got baby Niles’s Christmas present out of the back of my car and watched Noah and his friend put the car together. I was laughing because they didn’t bother to read the instructions, and after they finished, they wondered why so many screws were left. Hilarious.
I went out to see my nephews and visited for a little while. It was nice and warm when I went into my mother’s house and cold and windy when I walked out the door. Lord, does the weather ever change in Texas.
We had a shrimp boil that night. Yvette and I did the shopping, and Noah came over and did the cooking. Lola came home with the baby, so it was a nice full house—full of family. Two babies playing. Lots of laughs.
The cold front finally made its arrival while the shrimp and pot were cooking. Of course it did. The wind picked up something fierce, but it didn’t stop us. When it was finally time to eat, we stuffed our faces. Shrimp, sausage, potatoes, corn, and delicious mushrooms. The mushrooms soak up so much flavor. It was a wonderful night.
Monday, that cold son of a bitch had dug in like an Alabama tick. It was overcast and freezing—I mean that. While I was out running errands, I had little balls of ice bouncing off my windshield. Just light sleet. It was supposed to snow, but it never happened. Sad, because I had my nephews all hyped up for it. Them being from Houston, they don’t see snow very often.
By Tuesday, the sun was back out and it had warmed up nicely. I spent the day doing things around the house and eventually chased a squirrel up into the attic. In the process, I tripped over some of Lola’s crap in the garage, so I decided to clean out the attic above it to start putting things up there and out of the way.
The prior owners had left about ten boxes up there in a small space. I brought them down one by one and went through them—mostly old bank statements, tax forms, and transaction records. This guy kept everything. One box had more personal material inside: birth certificates for their kids, a wedding license, newspaper cutouts, just random shit. Did you know you could obtain a legal document that obligates the wife to excuse the husband from drinking and doing all sorts of crazy shit? Wild.
When I finally reached for the last box, three hours later, it wouldn’t budge. This one had more than paper in it. What I discovered was pottery—an entire set along with some mismatched pieces. They looked hand-painted. The newspaper they were wrapped in was from 1965. Had they been in the attic for sixty years? Holy shit.
What I discovered was that they were made by a woman named M. A. Hadley, a famous pottery artist born in 1921. She passed away in 1965. Was that why they were stored away in the attic—for safekeeping? Looking up the prices for modern sets, I already knew the brand was expensive. If these were original, what might they be worth?
After cleaning up, I went out to my mother’s to visit with the nephews again before they left in the morning. The time we have with others just doesn’t last as long as we want it to. I wish they could have stayed longer.
New Year’s Day started with a doctor’s appointment, followed by downtown exploring and Korean lunch. Yvette and I needed a lunch date. I was surprised we didn’t really go out to eat much during our time off.
The meal jacked my blood sugar up pretty high, so I decided to take Hazel for a little walk to try and lower it. Did the trick nicely. Hazel is enjoying the daddy-daughter time, and it’s good for both of us.
I had errands to run before the night’s festivities. I wasn’t entirely sure how many businesses would be open on New Year’s Day, so I ran around gathering what I’d need. When I got back home, I found Yvette asleep on the couch. I guess the queso for the night was on me to make, which I was happy to knock out.
That evening, we spent New Year’s at my in-laws’. We had pulled pork sandwiches, ribs, and potato salad. Roger made me a nice strong drink, and I was instantly relaxed. The Cotton Bowl was on TV, and Miami won against Ohio—a surprise. More drinks went down the gullet, and eventually we all sat around waiting for midnight. Everyone was tired, and it pained us to make it to the new year, but we endured.
Happy New Year!!! Goodbye 2025! Hello 2026!!!
New Year’s Day started off exactly as one might expect: a sink overflow in the bathroom at 6:50 a.m. I cleaned it and fed the dogs—no big deal. As I finished the chores, I stood in the kitchen watching the most beautiful sunrise I’d seen in a long time. The sky was full of pinks and purples as the fire in the east slowly rose. I was excited for the day. I was excited for the new year. It began as any does, but with a little bit of chaos. I think that’s okay.
That day, I decided it was time to season my new Blackstone. It took over two hours—heat, apply seasoning, wait fifteen minutes, start all over again, times five. I enjoyed it. It was like a long tutorial session. I sat outside, read my book, and tended to the grill. When I finished, I felt good. We grilled that night.
I cooked breakfast outside the next morning and basically just chilled until 1:30, when I took Hazel for a walk. We’re enjoying our walks on these nice days. Afterward, I went hunting for sheep. I found three—and a few squirrels, too. I drove around the lake and through areas I hadn’t been in years. It’s amazing how quickly things change. I felt nostalgia out the ass..
Saturday, Yvette and Tee took off to Fort Worth to look at a truck, which they did end up buying—awesome. I slept in. That drive there and back kills my back, so I made a pass on the journey.
Once out of bed, I needed to clean the shower tiles. I hate cleaning tile—it’s a real pain in the ass. After that bullshit was knocked out, I ran some errands around town and took my merry ass time.
I had the urge for Chinese food and decided to hit up a joint I hadn’t been to since 2016: Wok n Rice. Damn the luck—they were closed for the holidays. I made the drive to the north side for nothing. Or did I…
Another place Yvette and I had meant to try last holiday break was right around the corner, so I figured, why the hell not. It wasn’t Chinese, but Thai-Japanese fusion. I ordered the chicken katsu, which I only knew about from pictures that had haunted me on Facebook for over a year.
The place itself was small and nothing fancy. Honestly, that’s exactly what I want when walking into a place I haven’t been to yet. The staff was super quick and nice, and the food was mind-blowing. I wasn’t expecting the complimentary soup and salad like you get at hibachi grills. I feel safe bringing Yvette next time, having tried it for myself.
While on that side of town, I decided to visit my grandparents’ grave. It had been way too long, and I couldn’t really tell you why. I wasn’t even sure I could find the site without wandering, but my memory served me better than expected—it only took a couple of minutes.
Looking at the grave, I decided it needed flowers. I was utterly unprepared. I promptly left and drove across town to get some to lay on the grave. As I made my way back, I felt a peace wash over me. Maybe I needed to do this.
I took a little walk through the cemetery and once again realized how peaceful a cemetery actually is. Relaxing. Not sad at all. Communing with the deceased should be peaceful. I was happy with my impromptu decision to visit them.
Sunday, we took down all of Christmas. I finished Welcome to Derry, and Yvette and I watched Alaya. It was the end of our little holiday. I guess it had to end.
Until next time. Cheers, 2026!!
Breakfast photos from the holiday, because why not.
Saturday was warm and full of labor. I had a backyard I didn’t want to clean up. Damn acorns and leaves. I was not happy about the work, but damn if it wasn’t necessary. Five bags later—damn filthy mess.
That evening it was Yvette, Alaya, and me, so I decided to do some real cooking. Some date-night shit Yvette had been craving: chimichurri steak and shrimp. It was a fun evening, and I enjoyed the cooking. It felt very leisurely, and Alaya is a doll to babysit.
I wondered while sitting with her if this is maybe how my grandparents felt when they had me. Was it just an unexplainable amount of joy? Was I as good with them as she is with us? It’s things like that I never knew I needed in my life. Love this little girl.
Sunday, I cooked breakfast and asked my friend Samuel if I could borrow his truck to go pick up a pre-assembled Blackstone grill from Academy. He said sure and left me the keys. Free assembly—why not? All I needed was a truck, and I was in luck.
When I got to Academy and pulled into the pickup location, I clicked the link to inform them that I was ready, only to be told that my order had already been picked up. Well, this wasn’t true. Clearly.
Stepping out into the cold—and it was cold (38 degrees)—I walked into the store to find out what the hell the deal was. What I discovered was a little incompetence and confusion within the store. The manager seemed concerned, and no one seemed to have the slightest idea what happened to my grill. They offered me one that was packaged, or I could wait around for an hour or so for someone to assemble it. I just accepted the packaged grill. I’m sure I can figure it out.
What struck me as odd was that they never once asked me for proof of purchase or ID. Not once. They even asked me what size grill I had purchased. I told them the 28″. Could I have told them the larger model and they would have given me that? I kind of think so. They told me to pull around and they would load me up. The guys, once again, never asked for proof of purchase when loading me up. I could have been anybody. Crazy.
So, what happened to the grill that was assembled? What a question. I guess I don’t care. Assembling the grill should give me something to do when I’m off work, and Lord knows I will need something to do for two weeks.
It was lunchtime by the time I was done with Academy. Yvette, Alaya, and I braved the cold to head to her parents’ for some warm food. I’m not exactly sure what the meal was, but it was delicious—almost like a ground beef guiso.
Eventually Lola came for the girl and departed before Alaya even woke up to eat and play with her cousin Niles. I think everyone was a little irritated by this. It was very clear. I get it—they like to see the little ones and didn’t get their time with her.
The remainder of the day was spent running Sunday errands as usual. I had some chicken and dumplings in the slow cooker, so dinner was a breeze. Where did the damn weekend go? Fuck, if they don’t just fly right on by.
Our last Monday before winter break was a dreadfully slow, cold, gloomy day. I woke up feeling kind of icky and took meds that left me a bit foggy, so I zoned out often. I had more coffee than a man needs to function, and yet I was still like a goddamn zombie.
The last staff senate meeting was that afternoon, and it was short and sweet. It’s really not that bad. I know I bitch about it. I think some of the enforced attendance rules are a little much, that my fellow senators take their duties way too seriously and should just have fun, and that it doesn’t seem to accomplish a damn thing. But it gets me out of the office at times, and I do get to visit with people I mostly like. I also get some inside info before the rest of the campus hears announcements. Maybe I’ve been doing it for too long. I fear that might be it. Maybe I should take a break and decline the next time I’m asked to join.
Tuesday was rather steady. That morning, I went and got Yvette and myself some breakfast tacos. I had some good coupons that allowed one free with purchase. It was a nice start to the day, and I sure needed it after our long evening. You see, we had the baby again. It’s hard being a parent—ha ha.
Throughout the day, I had four cups of coffee. I somehow managed to outdrink the amount I had the day prior. I was a little wired mess, but it worked out well. It helped get the damn day done.
After work, I ran more errands, and that evening we headed to Yvette’s parents’ for dinner. They made some caldo—damn good on another cold day.
While over at her parents’ I couldn’t help but think how I would never like those kinds of gatherings with my ex-wife. I really like Yvette’s family, and I look forward to the moments we spend together. It’s a great feeling.
Wednesday was basically a damn repeat, but with less coffee and fewer people.
Thursday I started wearing my Santa hat and passing out candy canes across the campus. I learned from last year to start the day before our last day before break because so many people take that day off. Like we really need an extra day off when we are being given two full weeks holiday leave.
It’s funny to me how excited people get when I hand out a candy cane. Maybe it’s the act alone that makes people happy and not the cane itself. I don’t know. It’s a tradition that I plan to keep because everyone needs a little holiday cheer. It’s a simple thing, really, but it makes people smile.
Retirement parties—two in one day. It’s that time of year. One of the guys who happened to be on my side of campus was retiring, and they had a little party for him. It was strange to me because he had only been there for eight years. Old Randy “Long Wind” Young. I felt like he had always been on campus, and it really hit me that I’ve been around six years longer than he has. How in the fuck is that even possible? Dear Lord, have I made this a profession? Maybe it’s time I jumped ship?
Again, I digress. Randy was a guy I did like, and I will miss his presence. He could also be a monumental pain in the ass. The guy had the nickname “Long Wind” for a reason. He could talk and talk and talk about the most ridiculous bullshit. Your ears would hurt. God forbid you ever got stuck in a vehicle with the man. If you wanted to hear Trump praise and conspiracy theories, you’d be in luck. That’s a real hell right there.
In spite of all that, he was a good guy. A damn good heart. A rather jolly fat man who now has enough gray in his beard to probably pass as Santa this time of year. I’ve had a good time working with him over the years and am sad to see him go. He was always there for a good laugh, no matter how ridiculous it might be.
After work, Yvette and I ran a few errands and prepared for dinner. We didn’t really have anything planned, but Noah was going to come over and eat because Nadia was at a Christmas party. This meant we picked up some random food for the boys while Yvette and I just made whatever. It was good seeing him and little Niles.
Friday, Yvette and I snagged a free beanie early in the cold. It was National Ugly Sweater Day, and if you showed up in a sweater—or at least looking holiday festive—you got a campus beanie. Limited supplies, hence getting there early in the cold. After that, she was sent home, and I spent the rest of the day handing out more candy canes across campus to the few stragglers. It was a very uneventful day.
Happy Friday!!!
Jalapeño
Chimichurri steak and shrimp.
Chicken and dumplings.
Venison chili w/ cornbread.
Sweet and sour pork.
Teriyaki chicken stir-fry.
Pork ribeye with raspberry chipotle sauce, roasted potatoes and broccolini.
The weekend started off with me making us breakfast while Yvette ran off to meet with Alaya and her dad to make Christmas ornaments. They made little molds of her prints. I slaved in the kitchen and made some delightful sausage gravy and biscuits.
While Yvette was gone, I cut my hair, read my book, and started laundry before we left town for a little anniversary trip. I wanted to kill my dogs, but I refrained from doing so. They broke a pot my mom let me borrow. Fuckers.
Once Yvette got back, we went to the grand opening of a coffee joint in town for a free coffee. I passed—already two coffees deep—but she got herself and Teegan one.
Once I got her back to the house, it was time to run around town looking for stocking stuffers and some other secret stuff. The day was busy. I had to make sure I knocked out most of the weekend in one day since we’d be leaving town Sunday morning.
That night I was set to make venison burgers. This was a first for me. After looking at many recipes, I found some ideas. Of course, I needed to add some lean beef, but most suggested adding butter to the mix. I seasoned them the way I would any other burger: salt, pepper, garlic, and Worcestershire. I added the butter as suggested. It was supposed to help bind the meat and add a little extra flavor. I was pretty excited—nothing special for the first try, just basic flavor with basic toppings.
The entire family, sans Lola who was MIA, came for burgers. I wasn’t expecting the in-laws, so I felt some anxious pressure making a meal for everyone for the first time. I like my meals to be tried and true before making them for people. I started grilling and felt some confidence in front of the flame.
The burgers turned out really good, but they were big. No one except Teegan was still hungry for seconds. I received compliments and some inquiries about how I prepared them. I guess I wasn’t the only one who had never had venison burgers. This made me happy.
Sunday was our one-year anniversary. Hard to believe a year has already passed. God, I remember the frantic last-minute bullshit I was dealing with the year before. It was raining, and our venue was being a total bitch. Life, of course. But looking back now, what felt stressful at the time only adds to the great memories I have.
To be married for a year—I’m such a lucky guy. I really don’t understand how I became this lucky, especially later in life.
The most amazing thing is how much my love for Yvette has grown over this past year. Living together means we know each other better now. Irritating things, sure—but also the little, cute things that still surprise us. Both are part of the bond. I know I irritate the hell out of her some days. She didn’t quite understand my OCD until she was living with me.
We were both excited for this little trip—just the two of us. We promised we wouldn’t get each other gifts, but of course we did. So we exchanged them. I made a little breakfast.
We took our time getting ready for the road. Hotel check-in wasn’t until 3, so there was no rush, and the drive was only about two hours. I got gas and some drinks and snacks to bring with us. It’s cheaper to come prepared. We put the house in order so Teegan would have easy sailing, and then we hit the road.
The drive was really nice.
Arriving a little before check-in, we stopped for a late lunch at one of my favorite places, Auslanders—a great little German joint that has some of the best Jägerschnitzel one can find. Great beers to boot. We also discovered that they have beer-battered mushrooms that are to die for. Holy shit, those were good.
Check-in time. The hotel was nicer than the pictures made it out to be. Yvette was impressed. I was impressed. This was above my class, ha-ha. I’m not accustomed to staying in such a fancy place. They had valet parking, one hell of a bar and restaurant, a real fireplace in the lobby, and room turnovers every evening. (The first night they left us chocolates, and the second night we came back to a chilled bottle of champagne with a card saying “Happy Anniversary.”)
After check-in we strolled the town for a little while before going to the square for the light countdown. They played Christmas music before counting down for one thousand lights to turn on. I think this was the moment the spirit of Christmas returned to me. I got misty-eyed during “Silent Night” and felt something for Christmas that had been missing for years. Sharing this moment with Yvette was special.
We walked down the street a few blocks to the Pioneer Museum where there was a singing Christmas tree. I wasn’t really sure what that meant and was intrigued. What we got was a literal singing Christmas tree—a ninety-person choir all standing inside this huge constructed tree decorated with all sorts of lights. It was truly amazing. I can’t overstate how amazing it was. The concert lasted an hour, and even though I was freezing my ass off, I didn’t once want to leave early.
After the singing tree, we walked to a local pizza joint for something a little more normal that we could split. The pizza was great, and so was the dinner. We were both elevated by the concert and floating in the clouds.
Next, we continued the fun with a stop at a German heavy-metal bar called Der Daiwel, which translates to “The Devil.” It was a fucking blast—red lights and metal everywhere. Nothing one would expect in this little German community.
The next day we woke up to a bummer of a surprise: a major water line had broken, and we had no hot water. The entire hotel. What can you do? They credited us $100 on the stay, which seemed fair for a cold shower on a morning in the thirties. Actually, I basically made a hunred dollars to take a cold shower. I’d do that again.
We walked to a place called Hill and Vine for lunch, where my mom had recently visited with some of her friends. Let’s just say the bacon-avocado-lettuce-and-tomato sandwich was mind-blowing.
After lunch, it was time for some shopping. Who doesn’t shop—or at least look around stores—while in Fredericksburg? It’s what everyone does, or what everyone’s wife drags their husband to do. Haha. However you frame it, it’s part of the experience. You look around shops. I actually rather like it in this setting.
Next was a trip to Fat Ass Winery just outside of town. I had been here before about ten years ago. My father was still alive then, and he was with us. My family. I do miss that man. It was special to return with Yvette, whom I know my father would have loved.
The place was pretty much the same. They had expanded the outdoor seating a bit, but that was about it. The wine was great. In the distance we could see the donkey, and I know he was looking at us. Jesus. The memories rolled in hard. That was the last trip taken with my father before his mental collapse. I was expecting a heavy hit, but I didn’t know how strong it would be until the pages started turning in my head. I loved going back to Fat Ass Winery.
We made a trip to H-E-B for some OJ and a little something sweet. We had champagne in the room that we planned to turn into mimosas. When we got back, another surprise awaited us: the beds were once again turned, but instead of chocolate we had a chilled bottle of unopened champagne with glasses and a note that said, “Happy Anniversary! —From the hotel team.”
We wandered back down to the square to look at the Christmas lights once again. Such a beautiful sight. On our walk back we stopped for dinner at the town brewery. The bartender was a real rude bitch. I sampled a few beers and had the meatloaf. The place just happened to be right across the street from our hotel.
Before heading up to the room, Yvette and I needed a professional drink. Her: an espresso martini. Me: an Old Fashioned. Goddamn the drinks were good—so damn good. Hers was scary good. Who needs a mimosa the morning after when you can have something like that? That concluded the night.
Check-out wasn’t until 12:30 on Tuesday. Sad day. We discussed staying another day but decided not to. Home was only two hours away. We still seriously considered it, but the hotel rates had increased like gas prices.
We said goodbye to the Albert Hotel with sad eyes. We wandered around town a bit more, but now we didn’t have a place to return to. They treated us well during our stay, and I really want to return. We will return.
We needed something to eat…. The Old German Bakery & Restaurant. I told myself I was done with fried food, but when I saw fried pickled okra on the appetizer menu, I had no choice but to order it. My god, it just made sense. I love both fried and pickled okra, so of course this was going to be a hit—and I wasn’t wrong. I’ve needed this my entire life. Sadly, we couldn’t bring the leftovers with us since we weren’t leaving yet.
We went back to the grounds of the singing tree to see what the structure looked like in daylight. It was impressive—a giant cage shaped like a tree. It must have been a tight fit for those choir members.
Next up were some art galleries. I had to see some of the art in Fredericksburg before we left. Both galleries were equally impressive: Insight and Good Art Company. They were right next door to each other. The lady at GAC was really nice. She took my email address and chatted with us for a bit. I wasn’t in the chattiest mood, but it was okay. I’m on the mailing list now.
We went to a couple of shops we planned on returning to for items. Yvette looked at some dresses, and I got some pickled eggs—which I won’t actually eat until Christmas because they’re a present. We didn’t want to leave the town, so we delayed the inevitable. Sad.
But our little anniversary trip wasn’t ending that quickly. A trip to Enchanted Rock State Park was going to happen. You bet your fucking ass it was! I used to go to Enchanted Rock all the damn time as a kid. The last time I had been was probably 2007 on a geology field trip in college—almost twenty years ago. Yvette had never been. I was excited.
The drive was nice and scenic, or so I was told. I had to pay attention to the road, which was basically shit—lots of curves, narrow, and all the fun stuff that makes you white-knuckle the steering wheel. We came around a bend and there was Enchanted Rock with a smoke plume billowing behind it. What an impressive sight that our phones couldn’t capture.
Inside the park, we paid for a day pass, which was really an hour pass for us. I wish you could get just an hour pass, but I understand. We found our way to the trails and hiked. I was excited to be back in familiar territory. Lots of memories.
Not really dressed for a hike, we tackled the summit anyway. Enchanted Rock is one giant volcanic granite dome. It is impressive. The Indigenous people believed it was haunted because of the sounds it made due to heat fluctuations.
We made it a pretty good way up. My sugar prevented us from going further. Still, it was a beautiful view and a good time. I was just happy that I managed to drag Yvette on a hiking trek with me. It was the cherry on top of a great trip.
Being so close to Llano, we decided to drive a little out of the way for some Cooper’s BBQ—pork loin, beef and pork ribs, BBQ sandwich, beans, slaw, and potato salad. The kids would eat on that. The rest of the drive was with the sun in our eyes and then utter dark. I hate both.
We eventually made it home with the sadness of the trip being over and the happiness of seeing the kids. We all ate our dinners, and we all had lots to talk about. It was a great reunion. As sad as I was to be home, I was also very happy to be home. I love this family, and I love Yvette.
Yvette and I still had one more day off, and we used it just relaxing around the house for the most part. The kids were all out, so it was quiet—just what we needed to wind down and reacclimate. We decided to see a movie called Eternity. It was a romantic comedy set in the afterlife—basically, what choice do you make once you’re dead and how do you want to spend eternity? A wife passes away to find both of her husbands waiting for her on the other side—one she lost 67 years ago and one just a few weeks prior, whom she had spent her entire life with and had kids with. Which one would she spend eternity with? It was really sweet and rather funny. I’m glad we went.
That evening I ran out to my mom’s to visit and talk about how great our little trip was. I wish it could have lasted longer, but Yvette and I had a nice long weekend out of it. It was a much-needed trip for both of us.
It’s weird going back to work on a Thursday for just a two-day workweek. I woke up easily enough, but Thursday sure felt like a Monday. I couldn’t even reach cruising speed before I was already pumping the brakes for the weekend. Work involved lots of catching up. I had one hell of an expense report to knock out—SOOO many damn transactions. It was amazing how much they hit me up the week before. It took me at least two full hours to complete it. I still had other things to catch up on.
We also had our damn Christmas party, which I had completely forgotten about. I had all good intentions of bringing a dish. Oh well. I really only attended the greeting/announcement portion of the party because the time it took place was while I was still manning the office during everyone else’s lunch. When I stopped back by before lunch, most of the goods were scraped clean. I snagged some brisket and went home to eat leftovers.
After work I started to head home and had the overwhelming feeling that I was forgetting something. I just could not shake it. When it finally dawned on me, I realized I had to turn around and head back to campus. It was my old geology professor’s, boss’s, and friend’s retirement party—Dr. Joe. I had five courses with him. He was an important figure in my completing my education. While taking courses with him, I became his TA. I did everything from setting up labs and assisting on field trips for his other classes to grading certain papers and quizzes.
My father was a geologist and worked in the sand and gravel industry scouting out future plants and running them, so I introduced them and set up field trips to some of his rock-crushing plants to give students ideas of what they could do with a geology background outside of the oil industry. I became part of the local Geologic Society thanks to Dr. Joe.
I will never forget our research trip to Big Bend National Park in the summer of 2008. We ate nothing but SPAM, cooked in various ways thanks to this spectacular SPAM cookbook he carried around on those trips. That summer we got a little lost on one of our expeditions. Near a mercury mine, off the beaten path, we went a little farther than we should have and nearly ran out of water. I hallucinated, thinking I was Frodo from The Lord of the Rings, trying to run up Mount Doom—only I was running toward the truck, desperate for water. I really thought we were doomed on that occasion.
Through the years working on campus, I’ve kept in touch with Dr. Joe, but not nearly as much as I wish I had. I passed on so many field trips he invited me to attend. I told myself at the time that I was busy, but thinking about it now, I really wasn’t that busy. I could have accompanied him on any number of trips. I wish I had.
Dr. Joe was the one who pushed for my father’s exhibit at the campus museum. My father had a collection of mammoth bones from his years in the field, and upon his death they were donated to the campus geology department. Dr. Joe made a tribute to my father that meant the world to my family. I will never forget how my heart felt when I heard about it—the feeling I had when I brought my nephews to see their grandfather’s exhibit. All thanks to Dr. Joe.
It makes me sad knowing I won’t be randomly running across him from time to time anymore. Everyone has that person they encounter in life who makes an impact on them, and Dr. Joe was one of those people for me. I was lucky in life to have encountered him in a planetary geology course that I took as a random elective. He will be missed.
Friday was the slowest day of the fucking week. Happy Friday!!
Jalapeño
Tamales.
Yvette’s lasagna.
Beef stroganoff.
Black Friday!
What did I do on Black Friday? Not a damn thing. I sure didn’t go shopping. I only made a simple, quiet trip to the store for groceries. I really didn’t need to be spending any money. I did a lot of laundry and stayed indoors. I was feeling the food hangover from Thanksgiving—those heavy carbs and massive blood sugar swings get me every time. I seem to forget this each year. I wonder why.
My household was sure partaking in the Black Friday shopping. I just can’t handle the crowds, people are crazy. I guess it worked out well enough for everyone because they did manage to find some pretty good deals on nice items.
That evening was the University of Texas and Texas A&M football game. BIG deal for some people. I hate them both. Teegan was really invested in his Aggies; I’m almost certain he’ll become one. The game was actually good and surprisingly so. I was sure A&M would walk away with the win—they were ranked high, while UT has had a horrible year. Well, had I bet on the match, I would have lost. The Aggies played horribly, the referees were awful, and UT had the best game of their season. Who the hell would have guessed?
On Saturday, we took the girl with us to see the Grinch, and boy oh boy, that didn’t go well. She was terrified of him, and we got some hilarious pictures out of it. I missed this last year, but she was too young then to be frightened. I guess the Grinch is a terrifying creature. When I was a kid, I don’t remember people dressing up as him for Christmas—it was always “take your kid to see Santa” back in those days. His popularity has skyrocketed.
Afterward, it was time to pick out the Christmas tree—a real Christmas tree. This was a special moment for me because it was the first time Yvette and I picked one out together. In the past, it was always a tradition between my mother and me. It was nice having Alaya along. She was having so much fun and helped Yvette and me find the perfect one. It was a kind of therapy for her after the whole Grinch ordeal.
Back home we put up the tree and tried to find all the lights. I had a rather odd, eclectic mix of them for some reason. I had two strands that matched, and I needed three more. Do you know how hard it is to find incandescent lights when everything has basically gone LED? I went to multiple places before I found what I needed. Walmart had them. The place was weird after dark—sketchy characters in the parking lot. I remembered why I don’t really like Walmart.
That night, Yvette and I watched a movie we had hoped to catch in the theater, but it didn’t stay long enough: Regretting You. It was the age-old sad story of love, betrayal, and what happens to a family broken by tragic loss and revealed secrets. I must say, it was entertaining. Movies like this are why some people don’t want relationships—the fear of betrayal.
Sunday, the rest of my family went home. Yvette, Alaya, and I went to her parents’ for some homemade chicken pot pie. It was a warm 40 degrees outside, so the weather was perfect for it. I was seriously impressed by the pot pie. I think my mother made one once and never again, claiming it was a total pain in the ass. I can see why.
The rest of the afternoon was spent with the three of us shopping all over town. We went to the mall, Walmart, Sam’s, H-E-B, and even stopped by Petco so Alaya could see some birds and fish. It was a good time, and she was a real trooper all day long.
Since it was finally soup weather, I made some chicken tortilla soup—one of my all-time favorite dishes. I couldn’t wait to have it. Sadly, Yvette’s kids do not eat soup if it’s called soup. I don’t really understand why they don’t consider soup to be a meal. Their loss.
The little holiday break came to an end. How terrible it is to return to work after five days off. I suppose it’s a lead-up to the extra-long Christmas break we have soon.
Surprisingly, I was able to jump into the work week with ease. I woke up at 6:30 and made breakfast. Work wasn’t hard to adjust to—well, not for me. My coworker, Tory, cried heavily. He came into the week thinking he was doing a certain job, only to find out that wasn’t what he was doing. It’s happened before; after last Christmas break he did the same thing. Cried. I have never worked with such a crybaby in my entire life. He proceeded to give me the silent treatment for the entire week. Would not even speak to me when spoken to. It’s one thing to see Alaya throw a fit—she’s eighteen months old. It’s another to see a fifty-eight-year-old man throw a tantrum like he’s eighteen months.
It was sad.
Back at work, I was busy purchasing from vendors across town—really busy, as I knew I would be after the holidays. Had Tory been doing my job, he probably would’ve been just as upset. Anyway, I was happy to be active. Day goes by quickly.
In my downtime, I made it a point to decorate the office with the few Christmas decorations we had—which weren’t much. They were sad little things, but it’s always fun to have them out for the spirit of it. The people who come into the office seem to appreciate them, at least. We have the Grinch, a Charlie Brown tree, and Caga Tió. I still need a Santa hat for the bear.
Tuesday we had the Christmas tree lighting on campus. After work, I met Yvette back on campus for the festivities. It’s a big bloody affair—bounce houses, train rides, activities galore. I was really only interested in the tree lighting because of tradition. I’ve attended every year they’ve had it since 2018. I actually first really met Yvette at the 2019 tree lighting. It was her first year working, and a group of campus folks got together for it. This is why it feels like a tradition.
Wednesday was more of the same. I didn’t have anything for breakfast, so I picked up a meal for Yvette and me around 7 a.m. At work, I was busy, busy. My coworker was still mute. Not sure why he’s pissy with me, to be honest. Oh well. I rather enjoyed the quiet. It’s better than him talking about eBay, estate sales, and bitching about various trivial bullshit all day long.
That night after dinner I had a new Christmas movie picked out to watch with Yvette. Oh. What. Fun. Michelle Pfeiffer!! I had a major crush on her growing up after her turn as Catwoman in Tim Burton’s Batman Returns. Who didn’t?
Anyway, this was a cute movie that basically points out how mothers are often unappreciated for all the extra things they do during the holidays. That’s a very brief summary. The family is also a damn mess, and they can’t seem to stand on their own without Mom—things just crumble apart.
We both liked the movie, and it was nice to see Pfeiffer in a film again.
Thursday the temperature dropped once again. It was cold and cloudy—like it should be this time of year. It really felt like Christmas was gearing up on campus. We had the President’s Christmas Party for our lunch. I’m glad we take lunch at one o’clock because it looked like most of the crowd had already cleared out.
Mostly it was fried foods, and that’s really not this diabetic’s cup of tea. I did get a sample of everything, just in case. It wasn’t until we reached the final table that we found the true golden ticket: pozole!!! They had it last year and it was fantastic. I made myself a cup, and then I made myself another. I have to say, I was rather stuffed by the time we finally left the party.
On Friday, I was the only one from my direct team at work. Troy was still upset and not talking, so he decided to take the day off. Honestly, I didn’t mind not having the grumpy mute around. His attitude needed to be checked, and I think we all had a better day without him there. It was busy, and I ended up doing everyone’s job.
After work, we went to Pancakes with Santa at the campus alumni center. I’d been told it was a packed, hectic event, but it really wasn’t that bad. We waited in line for pictures with Santa for maybe five minutes. The pancakes-and-sausage line was also pretty short. Yvette said they usually served breakfast sausage, but all they had were links this time, which don’t really go with pancakes.
The single pancake I had spiked my blood sugar to 250, and I ended up bouncing well above 300. Damn. That’s why I don’t do pancakes. Oh well—I’m still glad we went.
Happy Friday!!!
Jalapeño.
Homemade pizza.
Sesame chicken stir fry.
Chicken tortilla soup.
Jalapeño chicken stir-fry.
Pot roast with mushroom, carrots, potato and green beans.
Azteca steak. I was the last grilling night for a little while.
Saturday, I woke up and made some chorizo potatoes while Yvette was having her hair done and everyone else slept in. It was a nice, cool morning—still too damp outside for me to clean up after last week’s storm—so I decided to go shopping. I’d rather cook a brisket.
I checked with Yvette, and we decided the whole family should come over. We were doing family photos around four o’clock, so it only made sense to have everyone over afterward. I grabbed the meat (btw, beef is fucking expensive these days), went home, applied a dry rub of my own concoction, wrapped it in foil, and put it in the oven to cook for a good six hours or more.
With the meat taken care of, I put away all the fall decorations so Christmas could take over. Nothing went up inside the house yet, but I knocked it out on the exterior—porch lights, my sad little tree, and my funny mesquite with lights. I was happy. I know Yvette wants more outdoor decorations, and maybe I’ll accommodate her later. For now, that was all I had in me.
We had family photos around four, just before sundown—the best time for light. I think the photo shoot went pretty well. I’m not entirely sure how good our photographer was, but I assumed some of the pictures would turn out. I had fun taking photos with the kids and grandkids. This was all very new to me. My first family photos since I was much younger, taking them with my brothers, mother, and father. It brought back some long-lost memories.
After pictures, we came home and finished cooking dinner: brisket, potato salad, beans, slaw, pasta salad, sausage, and deviled eggs—the works. Everyone came to grub around 6:30, and it was a fun evening of laughs. I even had leftovers.
Sunday was a perfectly gloomy morning, great for staying in bed a little later than usual. When I finally rolled out, I decided to make breakfast tacos using the leftover brisket—machacado. Brisket, sautéed onion and jalapeño, chopped tomato, eggs, and fresh cilantro. I still have my homemade hot sauce, so I applied it generously. Served with black beans. A damn tasty way to start the day.
Next up: coffee and Christmas decorations. I’d put them off for a day, and I figured getting them done would make everyone happy. I was surprised by how happy it made me feel. My grandmother’s ceramic tree really made me smile. I loved that damn thing growing up—forty years of memories gazing at that little tree.
After the decorations were up, I battled the acorns for the second weekend in a row while everyone else ran off to lunch at Yvette’s parents. Have I said how much I hate the goddamn things? It took at least an hour. I prayed that was the end of them for another year.
Oh yeah—Teegan got his first deer! A nine-point buck. He kept the skull to have mounted. Looks like we’ll be eating some venison. I could tell he was extremely excited about his first kill. I was happy for him. I’ve never been much of a hunter myself; I care about animals far too much to be entertained by the idea of killing one. That’s just me. I don’t judge those who hunt for meat. I do judge trophy hunters. Fuck those guys.
Sunday wound down like it always does—errands and preparation for the week. A short week, thank God. We did get some torrential rainfall—three inches and one loud bitch of a storm.
Monday, work was lame. I was tired from the storm. I did my job and filled in for some coworkers who had the week off. Had lunch with my mom since Yvette was participating in an interview. Helped Teegan boil the flesh off his deer head. Just another day.
Tuesday at work was dead. I mean dead as a doornail. Even fewer people from my team were there, and my boss was gone. I had to find things to keep me busy, and even that was difficult.
Yvette was lucky enough to get off work early—noon. Her boss told everyone to leave. Must be nice. I was stuck at work thinking about what I could be doing if I were off. I kept thinking about how exciting it would be to have my brothers in town. I was thinking about anything but being at work, watching the clock go tick tock, tick tock.
I had some damn diabetic issues all day long. Not with me, but with my devices. My fucking sensor kept malfunctioning, beeping, and driving me FUCKING insane all day. I had to resort to the old days of finger-pricking. Let me tell you—that hurts when your fingers are no longer calloused.
What I found out later was that it was reading the opposite side of the spectrum. It told me I was about to die while I was at H-E-B. I was shopping before dinner when my devices blew up. Yvette soon called because she had gotten the alert. I started to panic—not feeling low, but sometimes I just don’t know. I grabbed a Sprite and opened it right there in the store, drinking greedily. I paid out and went home. My sugar was actually high. I ripped that fucking device off my arm and proceeded to curse and replace it with a new one.
I hate being diabetic.
That evening, Yvette and I went to dinner with my mother, my brother, and his girlfriend. It was some nice adult time before the nephews arrived and all sorts of crazy ensued. It was also the only way we could avoid spending a small fortune. The kids don’t really eat much, but they still order full meals.
We got there first. I was still frustrated with my diabetic shit, and the place was fucking packed. I couldn’t hear the hostess, and she couldn’t hear me. I might have been a little rude. Honestly, I shouldn’t have been talking to anyone. I felt bad, but our 15-minute wait suddenly turned into a 45-minute wait, and I can’t help but feel that was her doing. We waited.
Once seated—with a nice little evil-eye glance from the hostess—it was mostly a nice evening. We of course ordered drinks. Something strong after that wait. My brother and his girlfriend had a little problem getting their drinks; I don’t think our waiter was all that great. But when everything finally aligned, it was great. We had a fun night at each other’s expense—mostly mine, for obvious reasons.
After dinner, Yvette and I drove around for a little while looking at Christmas lights. It’s amazing how early people put them up nowadays. My own yard has them up earlier than I ever have, so I’m one to talk. But at least it’s one less thing to worry about after Thanksgiving. It usually feels like a chore at that point.
We got home, and I initially got comfortable for the night. That was until I talked to my brother. He was going to the bar to meet some folks. I asked Yvette if she wanted to go, and we ended up heading out to Parrots Head. I saw some people I hadn’t seen in a long time, and we had a good time hanging out. We had shots and beer, and after watching a friend do karaoke, we took off. It was about two hours of good times, and I was really happy we went. We never do that, so it was impulsive—and worth it for the laughs alone. It was a damn good Tuesday night.
I will admit that Wednesday I was a bit exhausted when I first woke up. We had a large group of us going to see Wicked: For Good. Last year Yvette, my brother, my mother, and I all went to see the first one during Thanksgiving. This year, it was eight of us.
I had some issues upon arrival—a pounding headache. No one had anything for relief, so I went to my car to dig around. What I found was six pairs of sunglasses. Good lord, why?? I guess I unknowingly hoard them. I also realized I was dehydrated. I hadn’t had any water. And I was tired, without any caffeine. I was struggling. The struggle was real. I chugged a bottle of water.
I made it back to the theater just in time for the movie to start. I was excited—until my damn insulin pump began to bitch at me. It was expiring, because of course it was a good time for that. I did my best to ignore it, but it was relentless. At least I had the foresight to mute the bitch.
The movie was really good when I was able to focus. I had been surprised I liked the first one, so this one might not have been quite as magical an event, but I still really liked it—and the whole experience.
Thanksgiving! I slept in a little — and I needed it. When I finally got up, I found that Yvette had been busy making breakfast. Since lunch wasn’t until one o’clock, I figured, why not pig out?
I got ready pretty quickly, so while everyone else was making themselves look presentable, I decided to enjoy the nice day and take a walk around the neighborhood. While I walked, I ran into some great people — Uncle Dick and Aunt Cathy. They were on their way to Thanksgiving and recognized me as I was walking down the street. It was good seeing them, even if only briefly.
We had lunch at Yvette’s parents’ house. They put out the full Thanksgiving spread — damn good food, as usual. I realized this was my third Thanksgiving with her family, and it made me smile. We always take some family photos, and the 2023 picture was one of the first that Yvette made public.
I had some meal prepping to do between lunch and dinner. Back at the house, I made the deviled eggs and the “fresh” green bean casserole. The eggs are always a little bitch, so I knew what to expect with them. The green beans were new. Lola and Yvette took a nap while Teegan watched football and I cooked. I decided to put on some Christmas music. The time flew by, and before I knew it, we were off to dinner at my mother’s.
My side of the family celebrates with booze — wine and beer. There are always lots of “games” between my brothers and me. And by games, I mean that if a glass of wine is left unattended, it will likely be chugged by whoever finds it. This has been going on for years, and I’m not even sure how it started. The only real loser is the one whose wine gets polished off, only for them to discover there’s no more left to refill the glass. That’s a bummer.
The food was good all day long, and it was great seeing all the families together at both get-togethers. I felt very thankful for family. Blessed.
Happy Thanksgiving!!!
Jalapeño.
BBQ brisket stuffed sweet potato with broccoli.
Artichoke spinach chicken and rice. It’s like an artichoke spinach dip, but with chicken and rice.
Happy Thanksgiving!! This is both family meals, lunch and dinner.
Saturday I slept in until about ten o’clock. That is very rare for me, and I was surprised everyone didn’t wake me. I must have needed it. I don’t usually sleep that late, and I woke up a little groggy.
Since the rest of the family had already eaten breakfast, I decided to skip that meal and make some burgers for everyone. I put together a grocery list and headed to the store—where absolute chaos awaited. It was a shit show. They had some holiday bullshit going on. Isn’t it a little early to have people dressed as Santa and elves? Apparently not for this store.
I survived the madness and got started on the burgers. Prep work is generally my least favorite part of cooking, but I don’t mind it because it gives me something to do. Burgers don’t take much prep, so I was happy to make a lot of them. Easy meals are the best meals. Everyone seemed pretty happy with the food.
I headed out to my mother’s to water her plants and ended up staying a lot longer than planned. I got sucked into a Netflix special about Eddie Murphy and couldn’t pull my eyes away. I grew up watching his movies—probably way too young—so getting more insight into the man was a welcome comfort. It was great entertainment.
I was genuinely shocked to find out Eddie Murphy never drank or did any drugs, considering he spent the ’80s surrounded by people who were chemically enhanced. The stories he was involved in are epic.
That night Yvette and I had a date night. I wanted to take her somewhere fun. It was a beautiful November evening—unseasonably warm—so we went to the Lake House Pizzeria. Sitting outside by the lake wearing nothing but shorts and short-sleeve shirts is not something you’d expect this time of year, but there we were. Even better, the one freeze we had murdered all the annoying insects. Romantic vibes.
Sunday I made way too much breakfast: fifteen poppers and chorizo eggs. Sadly, only Yvette and I ate. Tee ran off to the gun range, and Lola can’t eat cream cheese. Tragic bummer. On the bright side, we had leftovers for the week.
The girls went to Yvette’s parents’ for lunch, and I tackled the yard. Acorns. Everywhere. I had so many of the little bastards in my driveway that I felt like I was preparing for battle. The fuckers. I filled half a trash can with them. Big oak trees are a pain in my ass, but I love them anyway for their benefits.
I trimmed some more limbs too. We had a stop sign that was partially obscured by an oak limb. I didn’t want someone getting into a wreck and claiming they didn’t see the sign. I know the city is supposed to take care of these things, but they hadn’t done a damn thing, so I stepped up. That was even more work for me—breaking down and disposing of the branches. Love being a homeowner some days.
Next up: cleaning my car. It needed it. Desperately. After a few smart-ass comments from people over the last few weeks, I finally gave in and cleaned both the inside and outside. It’s amazing what you can accomplish with a little shame-based motivation.
Monday was just chaos.
The highlight might have been the Staff Senate meeting. They wanted to enforce attendance more tightly. I’m against it because my job isn’t as flexible as some. Things come up last minute, and I must actually do my work—unlike certain people who seem to have mastered the art of not working at all. I think putting a tighter grip on attendance will discourage more people from wanting to be on the Staff Senate. We already have piss-poor attendance as it is.
They proposed an amendment to the bylaws—three unexcused absences and six excused— and suddenly the room erupted. There was a lot of disagreement. Some people thought that was too many absences. Others thought it was just right. Some others and I thought it was way too murky and not clearly defined. What if you were on medical leave? Maternity leave? Does that count against you? They were so eager to enforce attendance that they really didn’t think things through. New bylaws were just quickly laid to paper.
So in the end we couldn’t even vote because revisions were needed. The people who introduced the vote looked extremely disappointed. Crushed. I enjoyed every moment of it. I’d already had issues with this topic, and they were too cowardly to give me a proper response.
Honestly, I should just resign as senator and become an alternate. These people are sucking all the fun out of it, and fun was literally the only reason I agreed.
I spent a good hour and a half Wednesday morning trying to get my internet bill down. Lucky for me, I had nothing pressing to do at work, so I could afford the time while on the clock. I was bounced around between three different individuals. It was a sad state of affairs.
At first, all I wanted to do was renegotiate. I had the prices of local competitors and what they were offering new customers—basically the same service I was already getting. I could cancel and switch to one of them for about forty dollars less, so why the hell wouldn’t I leave my current provider? I called my provider and was introduced to my first taste of the hold music.
The first lady I spoke with offered me a ten-dollar discount if I linked my bank account to their system. NO!!! I learned my lesson the hard way linking a bank account for automatic withdrawal with my medical bills. Hard no. When I told her that wasn’t going to work and that she’d need to match the competitors, she transferred me to someone above her. Yay—more elevator music. I think this is a tool they use to test a person’s willpower. I wanted to give in, but I remained strong.
The second lady offered me the same thing, plus a discount for going paperless and a “great deal” on cellular service if I switched to them. Again—no. I didn’t want deals; I wanted my bill to match the local competitors. After another threat to cancel, I was back on hold listening to the most beautiful, barf-inducing elevator music ever created.
The final girl must have been upper tier, because right off the bat she offered me a matching price if I would remain a customer. Ridiculous that it took over an hour to get to this stage, but I understand their logic. Most people give up. Most people take the small offers because it’s better than nothing.
I endured. Unfathomable patience from a man who has none. In the end, I got what I wanted.
On that Wednesday evening, we had one hell of a thunderstorm roll through town. It felt as if I’d turned the calendar back to May and a storm of early summer was announcing itself. It was wild. The light show was spectacular—fucking crazy for November. There were even reports of hail. Everyone in the house was up and moving around because of the unexpected fury of the beast outside, while I was out there like a loon, smiling ear to ear. I was full of static and decided to have a drink to fully embrace the wild weather wonders around us. I was loving every moment of it.
Thursday, it was more of the same. We desperately needed the rain. So nice and gloomy. I was in my element, with an elevated sense of happiness about me. Even a minor hit from my insurance company couldn’t bring me down.
It seems that when I had my ex-wife removed from my auto insurance, for some reason or another, they failed to cancel her “Death, Dismemberment, and Loss of Sight” coverage. How the hell that happens, I have no idea. I blindly assumed that all of that was included, and once she was removed, everything pertaining to her would also be removed. Tricky bastards, those insurance companies.
I was likely not in the best of places when I removed her. Heck, I’ll be honest—I wasn’t in the best of places at all. I was trying to get her name removed from so many things at that time that it doesn’t surprise me something slipped by unnoticed. I was a mess. If I wasn’t working, I was probably drinking. Dark days. At least they somehow caught it, and I’ll be receiving a credit for the time they’ve been charging me. What’s done is done. It’s not like I even knew I was getting screwed, so why be upset about it? Now I see it as a benefit.
Friday finally arrived, and thank God I had work carried over from Thursday, because I wouldn’t have had a damn thing to do that morning. Zilch. Nada. It was miserably slow after ten o’clock.
That afternoon was a different beast—busy as fuck. For better or worse, I was underwater, reaching for the surface. It was crazy. I was having a blood-sugar battle on top of it all: high, low, and back again. Rinse, repeat. Hard times.
After work, things finally mellowed out. Teegan headed out of town to watch his last high school football game. Yvette and Lola grabbed Whataburger and settled in with a Christmas movie while I ordered carryout from The Penny. It was a nice way to close out the week.
Happy Friday!!!
Jalapeño.
Carne guisada bowl
Tacos al pastor.
Shoyu hot dogs. A Hawaiian comfort food, I hear.
Chicken chow mien. those time everyone got in on eating it. Chicken breast, egg noodles, celery, broccoli, cabbage, carrots, green onion and a hoisin sauce mixture.
En Fuego 