There is some magic ~ start doing lunch at 9:30 pm and leave the apartment with a whiff of Almorzadero against which you can not open windows, closed doors, lighted candles.
I'm taking lunch to work every day, largely because it is better for my pocket, in good part because it is good for my back, and in some part because it satisfies me to leave my comidita prepared the night before .
Well, I am preparing lentils. In my house, traditionally, have lentils paprika sausage ranch and diced potato. I got to throw them in exotic beer and bay leaves to not so noticeable lack of paprika. But what I have to say is thatI had a great experience cutting potatoes.
It was a great pope, the size of my hand (as I taught my mother bought, because they are easier to peel) and carrying at least one month waiting for their hour. I removed the purple retoñitos he came to his stay in the dishwasher, and amused me to think that the pope had fighting spirit, and I imagined a picture of those old taking root tubercle pierced by sticks and suspended above a liquid. As I was peeling Papote feeling increasingly ma, S wrong with it: he had struggled to survive for many weeks, CAST shoots and everything, and I was there making him a true vivisection with all the arrogance of my person. What gave me my right to eat at that potato? Where he got me the best thing that could happen to me the Pope was that I eat and not to be eaten by worms? As for me I'd better feed me and not worms, but who am I to judge the fate of a species which probably existed before mine? And while the potatoes do not have a brain or nervous system that put them at a competitive level compared to the entelegencia Homan, byshould one be so arrogant to assume that because the parents did not think then you have no rights? They have no desires, no soul? Of course, logic is not something to be lodged between one and often the things you do (because besides the fact that something seems logical does not make it), then I asked myself all these things as he threw the skin of the potato in a plastic bag and yellow flesh reduced cubes.
After peel and chop before, washed it a little. The washed carefully, almost tenderly, and thanked him. But I missed a kiss.
Thank you, dear father.
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