Day 104 CJSM

Day 104

 

Casa Bonita’s and the “Plight of the Sophopilla”

 

We always seemed to find the “unique” in whatever endeavor of pursuit struck our fancy.

Our first house was in town and a story and a half “fixer-upper” in the rough. By the time we finished her up, the yard had been transformed along with the interior and basement, the latter even sporting that slate-bed pool table I had so many years longed for. Eight-ball? Anybody?

Yeah! Sure! We sold the property---and…the late pool table. C’est la vie!

Raking the quick three year profits, I purchased ten acres sitting on the two hundred and fifty foot high limestone bluff overlooking the Monroe County Mississippi River bottoms with a view to die for offering a vista to the mighty river westward some thirty miles into Missouri. Wow!

Truth be told: I still miss those enviable sunsets! Oh! And, I got another pool table, too!

Six years there brought us horses and our second baby girl; Beth and Becky were our lives.

I sold that “dream” home, too---Damn! Gipsy-blood!? I reckon! And, we moved on.

We found ourselves on a 214 acre real farm about a mile from our beloved Maeystown. Wow! What a fantastic property. An acquaintance lawyer was running for “Judge” and while out campaigning, crossed the creek which our driveway ran through, found our house a half mile up the valley and knocked on the door. I was not home but he knew our family and asked Lady Candy how it was that we always managed to find such “unique” properties. He had seen and been impressed our “view” residence of the previous domicile. Yeah! I did vote for him.

On a vacation to my beloved Rocky Mountain Colorado, we found a restaurant called “Casa Bonita’s” on Colfax Blvd. just west of Denver’s Mile High Stadium. The food was Fantastic! The atmosphere most entertaining with cliff divers in a giant “cave” setting.

The Spanish décor offered a menu specializing in a Mexican dessert called “Sophapillas”.

The hollow pastry delicacies were to be slightly pierced so that the diner could drizzle provided honey into it thus naturally flavoring the treat. Well! Never trust a “kid” with a knife!

Playing with the crispy crust delicacy, the “big” kid, Me, found a curiosity in the “breathing of the pastry when just the right amount of pressure between finger and thumb was exerted so that the dessert breathed, just like a living human lung, somewhat resembling a heart.

As Lady Candice and our “angelic” girls daintily pierced the dessert packet with a delicate touch of the knife-point, ole “Dad”, the biggest of the kids, made his bellows breath in and out like a lung while “huffing and puffing” in rhythm to the outlandish pumping motion. With all eyes on the immature rebel, rascal, rogue, reprobate, the old man’s eyes got big in surprise; he threw the “living” specimen onto his dessert plate and stabbed it to death with several blows!

Some people you just can’t take out in public! Really! (Hey! It got the desired laughter!)

 

Anybody care to “lend” me a knife? (I thought---not!)

 

Ah! Cookie Jar Sweet “stabbing” Memories!