Marcos Pérez Jiménez
that year at the home of the child Jesus arrived 17 otherwise. On December 25 my sister Elsie got up early, opened the window of my parents' room and took the packages were hidden there. After the corresponding division fact, the enjoyment of toys put out any stupor caused by the rare revelation of the mystery. It turns out that 24 my parents had gone to the clinic because he was born Acosta Ortiz José Manuel and my brother forgot to instruct someone in the act sneaky place in our beds while we slept, the baby Jesus gifts. But hey, Elsy knew all (who knows how long) and for me it was time to learn. The truth is that December was memorable for those reasons. I had spent seven years and nine months of my life with one sister and now, as the baby Jesus was leaving for good, a little brother joins the family.
The development of holiday meals was also a special event. My grandmother Anna, because of my mom's pregnancy advanced, she moved from La Concordia to help her cooking chores. I remember doing the 23 hallacas and chicha, brightening the day Tocuyano home with amusing anecdotes and the endless ringing of your laughter. From time to time come to my mind the images of that day and stay a while accompanying me. I do not need color, but tastes. Thus, my grandmother hallacas, in which the only meat dish that was involved the pig, are back here in my memory. And wonderful, recreated by Cuchi, are also at my table of 2010. Fortune wanted my uncle Oscar Cuchi entrust him over thirty years, the secrets that Doña Ana had to compose the sacred Christmas dish.
But back to 57. In the neighboring houses, the vigil was not limited to the holidays. Some concern, conveyed to the sly, gravitated into the environment. Even in the conversations of some children, the issue arose. Second Amparo my friend asked me tomorrow if I wanted to leave Pérez Jiménez. To my affirmative reply, he chose to recommend the application of the old adage: "Better known evil than good to know." Surely, the two spoke by the mouth of Goose, expressing what we heard in our homes, but certainly the fact that a 7 and a 9 a few minutes to make similar comments, was a telling indicator that was brewing in Venezuela more than hallacas, though it was in the back rooms. The plebiscite abuse which the dictator did to perpetuate itself and thereby circumvent a rule of its own constitution, was the straw that broke the camel. The remedy he was worse than the disease. Not always benefit the radical radicalization. Many times the blind. The decree calling for the plebiscite was the death knell for the regime. Vallenilla Laureano, in his book written memory, relates with undisguised cynicism, the details of this awkward and fatal decision, written by himself and Rafael Pinzón, whose home in Los Palos Grandes, by the way, probably ate Best hallacas Caracas Tachira in 1957.
PS: I wish all readers of this space a happy Christmas and once again my gratitude for their commitment .
The development of holiday meals was also a special event. My grandmother Anna, because of my mom's pregnancy advanced, she moved from La Concordia to help her cooking chores. I remember doing the 23 hallacas and chicha, brightening the day Tocuyano home with amusing anecdotes and the endless ringing of your laughter. From time to time come to my mind the images of that day and stay a while accompanying me. I do not need color, but tastes. Thus, my grandmother hallacas, in which the only meat dish that was involved the pig, are back here in my memory. And wonderful, recreated by Cuchi, are also at my table of 2010. Fortune wanted my uncle Oscar Cuchi entrust him over thirty years, the secrets that Doña Ana had to compose the sacred Christmas dish.
But back to 57. In the neighboring houses, the vigil was not limited to the holidays. Some concern, conveyed to the sly, gravitated into the environment. Even in the conversations of some children, the issue arose. Second Amparo my friend asked me tomorrow if I wanted to leave Pérez Jiménez. To my affirmative reply, he chose to recommend the application of the old adage: "Better known evil than good to know." Surely, the two spoke by the mouth of Goose, expressing what we heard in our homes, but certainly the fact that a 7 and a 9 a few minutes to make similar comments, was a telling indicator that was brewing in Venezuela more than hallacas, though it was in the back rooms. The plebiscite abuse which the dictator did to perpetuate itself and thereby circumvent a rule of its own constitution, was the straw that broke the camel. The remedy he was worse than the disease. Not always benefit the radical radicalization. Many times the blind. The decree calling for the plebiscite was the death knell for the regime. Vallenilla Laureano, in his book written memory, relates with undisguised cynicism, the details of this awkward and fatal decision, written by himself and Rafael Pinzón, whose home in Los Palos Grandes, by the way, probably ate Best hallacas Caracas Tachira in 1957.
PS: I wish all readers of this space a happy Christmas and once again my gratitude for their commitment .
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