Monday Blog Hijackery or Parrots, El Puma, y el Cubaneo

Today's Monday Blog Hijackery is brought to you by my friend, Chantel Acevedo.

You'll find her linked in a few places here on my blog. She is part of the blogroll titled Smart Cuban Women and Friends. Her personal blog is called Yuca Baby. (Go there. Right now. Tell her Marta sent you. =D)

You'll also find her listed in the Smart Cuban Authors section.

Her book is Love and Ghost Letters and according to Oscar Hijuelos (another celebrated Cuban author. Actually, Mr. Mambo King himself. Shut up. I know.) her debut novel is...

"... enchanting;a heartfelt story. It tells volumes about the intimate life and loves of a family in pre-Castro Cuba. Along the way, it captures, beautifully, the atmosphere and emotions of a time which, both Cuban Americans and many an American reader, will find both reminiscent and fulfilling. A great debut.”

Personally, I couldn't put it down, but that's not important right now...

I had the happy privilege of meeting Chantel face-to-face last year (at Disneyland, of course!) and I felt like we were insta-friends. I know you're going to love her, too.

Without further ado, please welcome Mrs. Chantel Acevedo to My big, fat, Cuban family. (APPLAUSE!)

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Why I want a parrot...

I want a parrot. 
Specifically, I want a Sun Conure.  One of these guys:

I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now, considering what kind of cage to buy, where to put it, what to do with the bird I’ve already named “Sunshine” (not so creative, I know) when I’m out of town. 

All of this, even though I know I’m not getting the parrot.  He’s wee, but expensive.  Loud.  Messy.  Yet, if I close my eyes, I can imagine his minimal weight on my finger, the downy feathers against my cheek, the soft scent of seed in the air.

Where does this desire come from?  As all things in my life, I can trace this one back to my Miami childhood, and my very Cuban upbringing. 

I grew up in a house full of birds. There were the canaries in wicker cages in the Florida room, a dishtowel hung up between the cages so that the canaries, unaware of each other’s whereabouts, would sing operatically, trying to locate one another. 

One of the canaries was named Jose Luis Rodriguez, and the other, Julio Iglesias.

Remember El Puma, guys?  Vintage yum.

There were parakeets, all blue, because my grandmother said the green ones tended to be mean.  I named them all Tweety. 

And outside, the flocks of green Cuban parrots, having found their way to Miami like so many of their human counterparts, created swift, moving shadows on the ground as they flapped loudly above us in happy, squawking groups.

Everyone I knew had pet birds. 

My aunt, bless her, had a Tweety of her own, a most unfortunate creature that got trapped in the refrigerator, smacked around by a ceiling fan, and nearly drowned in a fish tank. Yet it lived over a decade, and learned to call my cousin’s name, “Andrea, Andrea,” in a sweet, parroty voice. 

My husband’s family had birds too, a host of finches in an elaborate glass cage in his mother’s house, while his grandmother had a penchant for canaries named Caruso.

There’s some irony here I’d rather not explore, this idea of caged things among a people who once lived on a caged island…

It seems my childhood had wings, or at least, it did in my imagination. 

So, as I psychoanalyze myself here on MBFCF, wondering why there are birds in everything I write, why I have a pair of bronze parrot bookends on my shelf, and why I’m longing for a Sun Conure, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s all about home, about that añoranza Cubans feel all the time, a word more suited than “longing” for what we feel. 

For me, I am doubly struck by it—desiring a Cuba I’ve never seen, and now, nearly a decade away from home, missing Miami the way one misses her mother. 

As Cubans, this is our cross.  We lighten it each in our own way—the lovely and talented Marta cooks and blogs, our mutual friend, Val, champions the cause dearest to his heart with everything in him, I write about Cuba in my fiction every day and really, really, REALLY want a parrot, if only because it reminds me of home.

Thanks for letting me hijack the blog, Marti.  I suggest we meet again soon, preferably while eating Dole Whips in the Enchanted Tiki Room.

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See what I mean?
Thanks so much, Chantel!
Dole Whips in the Enchanted Tiki Room??  I'm in!

(*sigh* A girl after my own heart....)

My Big, Fat, Cuban Family - The Book.

One of the reasons I started blogging was for my posterity (which is just a fancy way of saying "future generations.")

But let me tell you why...

I am blessed with having my 95 year old mother still around with her mind still sharp and her enthusiasm for life (and my projects) still intact.

That was not the case for her. She left Cuba and her beloved mother, my grandmother, at the age of 47, never to see her again. She often says that if she had known that she might not have made the decision to leave. I think that because of the pain this caused her, there are memories she just refuses to access. It makes me sad.

What we left in Cuba, besides a tight-knit extended family and our home, was the minutia of day-to-day life. All the simple, yet important things that illustrate our existence.

My mom tells stories, not just of people, but of places I may never see. Also, of things, like my grandmother's stove, or her collection of placemats - 52 sets - one for each week of the year, or of a teacup that was in her great-aunt's collection of antique china.

I think that growing up hearing these things made me aware of a greater loss. There are entire lives that were lost. By that I mean that in our need to move forward and assimilate, not to mention the pain involved in remembering, that our celebration of the everyday was muddied. I feel that acutely sometimes.

I have a few things that have family history attached: my grandmother's sewing box, a bedspread crocheted by a great aunt. I insisted that my mom write down (in her own handwriting) the significance of each item on a notecard.

Because documenting these things has become so important to me, I have become by default the Family Historian.

It seems that in this 21st Century, blogging is the natural way to record and capture the day-to-day, the celebrations, the minutia, if you will, of our lives.

My friend, the class factotum, (whom you met the other day) lost years of her blogging and hence the documentation of her memories to a crummy now-defunct blog platform. And I thought how much I'd hate to lose all these hundreds of hours of blogging, so I've been looking for a way to preserve my blog, again for posterity. =D

I have been thinking I would just copy and paste each entry into Word and try to find the pictures and well, you can see that this was turning into a not-so-fun project. Then I toyed with the idea of re-creating each page in Photoshop. I could totally do that, but umm.. no. Frankly it was much more of a pain than I wanted it to be.

(Yes, it's me. It's got to be fun, okay?)

So, I've been mulling this idea over and wrestling with the how-to of turning my blog into a book. While I was on Facebook the other day I saw an ad for SharedBook Blog2Print in the sidebar. I compulsively clicked on the link and within minutes I had uploaded My big, fat, Cuban family, Volume One - from October 1st, 2006 to September 30, 2007 - into a big, fat 400 page memory book. 

(I wish they were paying me for this glowing product endorsement, but they're not. Sad!)

 

I didn't have much creative control, which, for this particular project, I was okay with. I put aside my perfectionism issues and just went with it.

I love that all I had to do was choose the time frame and add my blog header to the front. The program created the Table of Contents automatically and slurped the entries into the book one after the other, automatically paginating as it went. (Anal-Retentive Me would rather have one neat entry per page, but that's not important right now.)

 

 

There was a spot to add a picture to the back and so I did that and hit the "order" button.

 

I just received the finished product and can I just tell you how pleased I am with the outcome. But I couldn't help but wish that I had something like this from my grandmother. Or my mom. Or my dad. But, happily, I have included many of their stories on my blog.

And now in this Big, Fat, Cuban Family Blog Book. (I'm ordering Volume Two as we speak.)

No, it's not for sale. It's just for me.

And my posterity. ;-)

I'm not superstitious, but...

Isn't it bad enough that I have to tip-toe my way through yet another Friday the 13th in a span of 28 days?? 

I also have to deal with this creature crossing my path, back and forth, back and forth, a dozen times a day:

Meet The Cat Bastet.  Not just Bastet. Her full name is: The Cat Bastet.

(I highly recommend that you read Elizabeth Peters - the Amelia Peabody Series to really enjoy the reference, but that's not important right now.)

I'm not genuinely superstitious, but I think that I'll be staying in bed for the rest of the day. 

Porsi las moscas.  ;-)

"Most small boys are barbarians. It is a wonder any of them live to grow up."
                                                                          ~ Amelia Peabody

Cuban guys can COOK - part 2

My very first post, which I wrote on October 1st, 2006 was titled Life on the Hyphen. 

That also happens to be the title of a wonderful book by one of my very favorite authors: Gustavo Pérez Firmat. In fact, if you look over to the right you'll find a couple of his books under Smart Cuban Authors.  Seriously. He's just brilliant.

So imagine my surprise and delight to find that he and his lovely American wife, Mary Anne often come over here to visit My Big, Fat, Cuban Family and are cooking Cuban food using......wait for it.....

My Big, Fat, Cuban Family Cookbook!  (I know. Shut up.)

Gustavo and Mary Anne Pérez Firmat enjoy pastelitos made from my recipe. (shut up!)

Hi Marta,
Thank you  for your wonderful cookbook.  I've been cooking my way
through it.....I really like using the crockpot.  It saves so much
trouble and makes ropa vieja like a dream!....
Our best to you and all of your wonderful family for the holidays. 
You are an inspiration to me.

Mary Anne Perez Firmat

(emphasis mine - I thought it was ironic because he's an inspiration to me, but that's not important right now.)

Thanks, Gustavo and Mary Anne! As always, make yourselves at home here at MBFCF. My blog casa is your blog casa.

Can someone please get me some sandpaper?  (Pa' darme lija!)   ;-)

Celebrating birthdays in Middle-earth

NOTE: If you know what I mean when I refer to Middle-earth, and you consider yourself a Tolkien uber-geek, then read on.... (If not, then come back in a few days when I will be posting a delicious recipe for a Cuban Pudín de Pan or Cuban bread pudding).  ;-)

You would think that for all the fuss we go through that it's a family member's birthday. And I guess in a way it is.
Every year on September 22nd, we celebrate Bilbo and Frodo Baggins' birthdays.

I know. Uber-geeks.
But I've read The Lord of the Rings Trilogy multiple times to my kids, even before they were born. (because my uber-geekiness knows no bounds.) =D

I started the tradition of having the birthday party for Bilbo when they were young and hey, this is the kind of stuff we homeschoolers live for!

And so, year after year, I make a feast fit for hobbits (and Cubans) and if our schedules permit, we will watch The Fellowship of the Ring - the extended version, of course.

We will sit in our regular spots with our Hobbit names on placecards and we will toast Bilbo's and Frodo's health.

Why do we go through all this trouble and silliness?  Well, now it's become a tradition and, well, now I'm committed.

Or.... maybe.....

Now I should be committed? ;-)

Or maybe I just know that this is one of those memories that will last them a lifetime.

TTFN (ta-ta for now)

It's officially SUMMER (!) for the Darbys and we're on vacation for the rest of the week. I will have the laptop and I may or may not be inspired to blog. See there? I have this total "Don't mess with me - I'm on vacation" vibe happening already (but that's not important right now).

I leave you (and my house and garden and cats) in the very capable hands of my first-born. (That's her cross to bear. =D)

Me? I'll be busy.
I have much to accomplish in a few short months and I'll need a head start... ;-)

Why we homeschool - reason # 4,285

He's almost twelve and in the sixth grade.

He has grown about two inches this past summer and is not showing any signs of slowing down.

He is constantly hungry and regularly has second and third helpings of whatever we're having for dinner and about an hour later is on a food hunt once again. 

He eats practically one of everything in the fruit bowl . . . every single day.

He is sleeping about ten to twelve hours a night, easily.

He is also reading voraciously and his imagination has kicked into high gear. He's currently reading a fabulous (450 page) novel by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson called "Peter and the Starcatchers."  He can't wait to tell me what has happened in the latest chapter he's read.  He gives me a painstaking description of the action and describes the characters in detail, including his opinion of what motivates them. 

He tells me just enough of the plot to interest me, but he doesn't give it all away.  He acts it out and mimics the voices and then loudly exclaims: "You've just got to read this for yourself, Mom."  The unbridled enthusiasm with which he says this makes it extremely compelling.  None of this is solicited.  He is just so excited about what he's reading that he must share.  The enthusiasm comes directly out of his heart so much so that it can be felt.

(NOTE TO SELF: Put 'Peter and the Starcatchers' on my reading list.) ;-)

Because he's (obviously!) in serious growth mode right now,  I am not pressing him to do too much academically.  His twelve year old body and mind are competing for all of his energy.  (The body is winning. =D)  I'm so glad I don't have to explain this to a teacher.  I can gauge where he is and what he needs right now because I. KNOW. HIM.  And I'm not worried at all.

This is what the California State Standards have to say about what he's supposed to be doing:

2.3 Deliver oral responses to literature:

a. Develop an interpretation exhibiting careful reading, understanding, and insight.
b. Organize the selected interpretation around several clear ideas, premises, or images.
c. Develop and justify the selected interpretation through sustained use of examples and textual evidence.

2.4 Deliver persuasive presentations:

a. Provide a clear statement of the position.
b. Include relevant evidence.
c. Offer a logical sequence of information.

Which is really just Educationalese for: "Is he getting it?"

I think the answer is a great a big YES. =D
 

Affirmations

Thanks again to everyone who stopped by to wish me a Happy Blogiversary yesterday.
I made my famous Arroz con Pollo to celebrate, because, as you know, I like ANY excuse to cook Cuban food. =D
I'm still in awe and a bit humbled and just "coming to" from the celebratory sugar-coma hangover.
So, I woke up still smiling from all the kind and happy thoughts sent my way, and then . . .
I got a package from Miami! (Yay!)
Could the day possibly get any better??

Umm. . . YES!

The title of this cookbook was so affirming, I just sat and held it lovingly for a while basking in the love.  (This is technically the book I wish I had written, and doesn't that kind of look like me on the cover?? but that's not important right now. )

I decided that Ana is the Nitza of the New Millenium, except she's not a commie and she has much better cheekbones. =D

And she loved my guava and cream cheese torrejas so much that she asked if she could maybe include the recipe in her next book. 

SHUT. UP.

Time to get the sandpaper! (pa' darme lija.)

I swear I'm going to put this on a post-it on my bathroom mirror and say it to myself daily in an affirming way:

"Cuban Chicks Can Cook."

(Thanks, Ana!  I'm feeling more affirmed in my Cuban-ness already. =D)

"The more that you read the more things you will know." - Dr. Seuss

Remember the robot, Johnny Five in the movie, Short Circuit? "Must have input!" That's totally me.

I'm a reader. I read.

I probably should just end the post right there.

The Bible, Newspapers, Political Commentaries, Diet Books,  Devotionals, Chick-Lit, Magazines, Cereal Boxes, Blogs.
If I see print, I MUST READ IT.

I'm caught up in Chantel's book right now. (see sidebar to the right - What I'm Reading)

Dishes? So what.

Laundry? It can wait.

Sleep? I can do that tomorrow.

Will Josefina ever find out it is the sergeant writing to her??
I really need to know this - RIGHT. NOW.

I blame Chantel.  If she wasn't so darn talented, my family would probably get a meal tonight and have clean clothes.  ;-)