a_little_taste_of_time_long_gone birdmad My grandmother's cousin from way down in Michoacan got stopped at the border on her way up to this side to visit my aunt. My brother and his wife went to pick her up before being told she could not cross. Before coming back across, bro found a jar of a particular treat i had not tasted since we were kids and had gone visiting the distant relatives and just shopping for odd little trinkets on a hop to Nogales "cajeta de chivo" sweet, liquid caramel made from goat's milk mild flavor with none of the goaty afterbite you'd expect, or at least not in a way that makes it noticeably goaty goes fantastically over ice cream or drizzled very lightly over cake. if you buy the jar or wedges of a pastry made by alternating it in layers between stacks of wafers as thin as the phyllo leaves used for baklava (i remember that last one came in a wooden, wax paper lined circular container with a paper lid not much bigger in diameter than a CD and just under an inch deep inside.) a million little flashbacks triigered by something so simple as the taste of candy. hmm. time and memory are funny that way sometimes. 041025 ... raze memories_of_tastes must be one of the last things to fade. just the thought of orange crush and the sauce on an assorted sub brings me back to an afternoon twenty-two years ago when i was hungover and heartsick, listening to david_bowie croon about throwing darts in lovers' eyes. i can see the band that blew an amp at changez the night before. tyson moving garden gnomes from one lawn to another and stealing a fold-out sign from a gas station. laughing like he thought he was doing something clever. jeans that were too worn to go on hugging my waist. hands that refused to let them fall. the joints i kept in my jacket pocket. handwritten letters littered with glitter and homemade stickers. if nothing that touches my tongue can tell me who you were, did we ever even meet? 240206 what's it to you? who go blather from