El Gringoqueño

All a man needs out of life is a place to sit ‘n’ spit in the fire.

Category: Family (page 2 of 15)

Where I express my endless and boundless love for my kids through the stories of their youth. Someday you’ll all be old enough to be embarassed by these. Chuckle. I’d talk about Laura here, but she doesn’t like that… private she is.

We Call it the Easter Dishwasher

Like most everything these days, home appliances come with printed circuit boards tucked away in various corners of their interiors. These control and logic boards rein over everything from the temperature, to water usage, cleanliness, etc, all to achieve an Energy Star rating.  They do the same job with as few resources as possible. The only problem is that you have to throw them out after a couple of years.

It turns out that the heat and humidity of tropics is murder on the electronic guts of modern appliances, ovens, dishwashers, refrigerators, washing machines. Sure, they’re more energy efficient, but then you have to get new ones every few years because the cost of repair is nearly the cost of the appliance as new. Sigh. How environmentally sound and efficient is that?

Anyway, so our dishwasher started acting up, first not draining properly. At first I thought it was clogged, but it turns out that the drain cycle was just not being triggered properly.  The cycle would not complete due to some control system problem. I took it apart, checked what I could check, studied the electrical circuit diagram, went online and found the part.  $150 but I couldn’t get it shipped to Puerto Rico without jumping through hoops. Sigh again.

After further reading however, the problem didn’t necessarily have to be isolated to the control board. It could be in the touch panel circuit.  Both together would be over $300 and that wouldn’t guarantee it would solve the problem. As a do-it-yourselfer I can’t guarantee my work. If I have misdiagnosed the problem, I eat the cost and try again.  To pay someone else with more knowledge to do it, I would have to chip in another $150-$200 for the work. Now we’re at nearly 80% of the cost of a new dishwasher.

So there I was, the thing wouldn’t drain, and now the touch panel was not working… lighting up in a strange configuration, only turning on and running if the delay wash button was pressed. Then one day it stopped working all together.

Time to get a new dishwasher. And off i went.

Perhaps it was the threat of being replaced. Maybe it had reflected on its life purpose, and got past its existential crisis, maybe it wanted us to reconnect with hand washing so as to appreciate it more. I don’t know, but that stupid dishwasher began to work again.  One day, I closed the door and heard the pump motor wind up and suck the dirty water from its bowels. “Well, will you look at that. Do you hear that, hon? This damn thing is draining!” On a hunch, I loaded it up and pushed the delay washer button, and was greeted with a one hour count down. I danced a jig in the kitchen.The boulder had been removed from the tomb, but I did not know what it meant yet.

For a week, we used the delay button to do the loads and things came out sparkling clean. The water drained. It’s a work around, but we can live with it. Then Laura came to me, “I pushed the wash button, and it started up!”

“Really?!” It was too much to believe, unreal, a complete resurrection.  I had to see it for myself.

Now the question is how long will we have it.  For how long will it walk with us, washing our dishes, freeing us from the hell that is hand washing? I suppose we should rejoice for whatever it decides to give, for it could be recalled at any time. Let’s hope it goes longer than 40 days.

Windows Update Comes to the Rescue

We have been watching the TV show Arrow, a live action show about the DC comic character The Green Arrow. The show is sponsored by Microsoft and one can see their products, the unmistakable Windows Metro 8 interface conspicuously sprinkled throughout, with lots of little logos, and other call outs to Microsoft products (Bing etc). This is important, so pay attention.

Scene: Green Arrow is chasing down a bad guy who has someone tied to a bomb that is set to go off on a timer.  Green Arrow’s computer expert, Felicity, is tracking some IP address, wireless tower, whatever to help Arrow locate the evil doer and hostage to avert disaster. Seconds are ticking off, the hostage is crying, the evil doer is laughing, monologue-ing. Tick tick tick.

“Where is he?!” yells Arrow into his communicator

Felicity concentrates on her Windows 8 laptop as her fingers dance over the keys, “Just a second, I almost have him.”

“Oh wait,” says Jaimito, “There’s a Windows Update, and it’s restarting the computer.”


We all roll on the floor laughing.

Dogs and Man and Cosmos

Loving the new show Cosmos with Neil deGgrasse Tyson. Today, episode two came to life.

The second episode of the new Cosmos began by detailing the ancient relationship between humans and dogs, how we co-opted each other to mutual benefit. Tamer dogs would get closer to the humans and be rewarded with scraps. Those dogs reproduced and the traits that allowed them to coexist with humans caused them to diverge from gray wolves. In turn, humans began to incorporate these new friends into their tribes, using them for hunting, watching, herding, etc.  It has been a fruitful collaboration ever since.

In modern times, a good many dogs are little more than companions to their human benefactors. They are rarely called upon to fulfill their ancient duties. These little doggies, yearning for the times of old, bark furiously at the postal worker, dig for ground animals in flower beds, and scavenge trash for treats. Mostly though, they languish with only the faintest primal ember still burning in their dark eyes.

Today though, our dogs returned to the lives of their ancestors.  An iguana, a big male, perched upon our fence and dared the dogs to do something. They barked and leaped throwing themselves at the high fence in a desperate frenzy. “Look, master, another meatbag wandered into our yard. Ooooo, I want it so bad!” They seemed to say.

I, however, wanted the racket to stop, and I didn’t need the impudent creature impregnating another female, thereby increasing the devastation his invasive species brings to Puerto Rico. I reached up and grabbed him. With my hand firmly around his big tail, I hauled him down twisting and squirming in my grasp.  His thrashings were so violent, I couldn’t hang on. Wow, that had never happened before. He was vigorous and strong and raced free along the fence seeking escape, rising up on two hind legs for maximum speed. Without hesitation, Lucy took off after him, through my spinach, over my basil and peppers where she ran over him twisting her body and grabbing him in her big powerful jaws.

Her blood was excited and I must say, I felt the rush of the hunt as well. Here was a worthy strong opponent, with a razor sharp tail lashing, its strong legs carrying it faster than I could go. And Lucy, 25 lbs of mutt, a funny mix between a rottweiler and dachshund, let her ancestors’ ferocity bubble to the surface.

“Git ‘im! Git ‘im! Lucy!” I yelled. “Good dog! Good dog!” My praise redoubled her efforts as she tore into the shoulder and neck of the six foot reptile. In that moment, I wanted its blood, and Lucy, oh Lucy, she was living the dream, hunting with her master. And her master was happy, and she had blood in her mouth and prey at her feet.

I reached in and grabbed it by the tail once more. It was now far more docile, injured and resigned to its fate. With a quick blow to the machete, I severed its spine taking off most of its head. They have such tough thick skin. I spent the next thirty minutes wallowing in iguana blood butchering the thing as Lucy stood proudly by. I had to put her inside, though, as I think she thought my manner inefficient and sought to speed up the task. “Master, you are doing it wrong. You are wasting blood, and I very much want to eat it. I want to eat that bag of meat that came into my yard, because they are delicious, and I love to eat them.” <- read this in Dug’s voice from the Pixar movie UP.

It’s funny, but only a few days before, we went outside and Lucy came trotting up. “Daddy,” Jaimito said, “Lucy’s hurt.  She has blood.”

I took one look at her panting and trotting playfully. “Jaimito, that’s not her blood. Look around the yard for an iguana carcass.”

As for today, the hunt, the kill, the butchering – we shall dine well, doggies, iguana fricassee is so delicious. You will be rewarded in accord with your ancient assistance.

La Cosecha


Javier picking a peck of unpickled peppers. He crawled all over and under these huge pepper plants, selecting red ripe sweet ones for sofrito. I love this photo, the contrast of his reddish hair with the green and the fruit.


Dat calabaza! A big green Caribbean pumpkin squash. We use them in tons of things, from beans and rice, as a soup thickener, as a soup, and yes, in pie. Delicious. This one weighed 37.5 lbs (17 kg)



Asier will be turning seven, and the common theme in the family is that we like him just the way he is.

“Asier, I forbid you to turn seven.  I don’t want you to get older. I think you are perfect just the way you are,” I said chuckling.

“But, Daddy, if I don’t get older then I will never get married and have a family.”

“You have a good point, Asier. I guess we’ll allow another birthday… this time.”

Congratulations, Asier

You’ve entered an elite fraternity. I applaud you for your ability to eat so much Halloween candy that you puked.  Bravo!

Jumping Around in the Rain

I haven’t seen such an inundation of rain in a long time. The downpour was so intense that streets had turned into rivers. I arrived home from picking up Javier and Asier at school.
“Hey, you guys want to jump around in the rain?”

They looked at me their eyes growing wide. “Really!?” they exclaimed.

“Yes, go put on your bathing suits. Let’s run around in the back yard.”

They scampered off opening up drawers, tossing toys aside in a desperate attempt to find their trunks.

“Last one outside is a rotten egg,” I said. “Hey Javier, it’s gonna be cold, are you sure you’re ready?”

“Oh yes.”

And out we went into the pouring rain, the drops as big as dimes, and visibility a mere hundred meters or so.

“Daddy, it’s cold, but this is awesome.” And they slipped and slid and rolled around on the terrace, running back and forth and jumping around.

We all felt like little kids.

Trabalenguas del Día

Nos echamos a reír hoy por la mañana haciendo el desayuno de panqueques. De momento empecé a acordarme del abuelo de Laura, Papi Quique (Enrique) y como su nombre junto con los panqueques resultaba un trabalenguas.

Mi papi hace panqueques de paquete.
Pero el papá de mi papá, Papi Quique, hace panqueques perfectos.

A Javier Nightmare

“Mommy, Daddy, I had a terrible dream,” said Javier.  We invited him to tell us about it, because it always helps to talk about these sorts of things.  “Well, I dreamed mommy was in jail.”

“Oh, no, Javier. Why was mommy in Jail?  What bad thing did she do?” I asked with a smile.

“She brought butter into the hospital.  They said you couldn’t bring butter into the hospital and mommy brought butter into the hospital, so they put her in jail.”

We all had a nice laugh and no more bad dream feelings.

Overlooking the Obvious

We’re were all out the other day doing some grocery shopping, when we came upon the canned food isle.

“Hey, Daddy, did you have Del Monte when you were growing up?” Of course they said it as “Dayl MOAN-tay”

“What? Hmm…” I repeated it to myself as they had said it. There was something off, something wrong. In a flash there was an epiphany, a revelation. Del Monte, is Spanish for “of the hill.” It’s a brand as American as can be, and the name is Spanish for of the hill. My kids would see it and assume it was a local thing, something Hispanic maybe Puerto Rican but not necessarily American.

“Yes, we did have as we were growing up. It’s a popular American brand, but we say it; Dehl MAHN-te.”

“Eww,” they all said. That sounds terrible. “You really said it that way?”

“Yes, Del Monte said it that way in the commercials.” I paused letting the wrongness of the words sting my mouth. I realized in that moment that the Del Monte of my youth was gone. I turned to my children with a confession. “I never realized until this moment that the brand name is in Spanish.”

I left them scratching their heads as well, their minds perplexed by the idea of daddy not knowing “Del Monte” was actually del monte.

I’m not even going to go into all the Hispanic baseball players I grew up with but never realized were Hispanic on account of how the sportscasters pronounced their names.

Turns out that Del Monte was named for a brand of coffee in a hotel in Oakland, California. “Of the hill” is a good thing for coffee… not so much for peaches.

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