Join This GroupApril 7, 2008
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This afternoon, my wife and I had a salad bar lunch. We both enjoy salads and I prefer vegetables and fruits to meat. This does not mean I do not eat meat, as we had great steaks just last night at Texas Roadhouse. However, one steak a month is enough for me.
Let me see . . . I am a rambling man . . . oh yes, salad. While building my lettuce masterpiece, I came upon the olives; green and black. My mind jumps to
While in
- He was a hard working man.
- He thrived working outside.
- He reminded me a lot of my dad (the Spanish version).
- He was a jovial man.
- I liked his name.
As to his name, I had always thought if God blessed me with four boys, I would name them Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Also, if I was to start a port-a-john business, I would probably call it
Mattias worked the land for some wealthy Spaniards. The owners were not always there, so Mattias and Teresa (a lady who cleaned the stately mansion) would invite us to their little homes on the property for cena (dinner).
One beautiful and sunny day late into the year, Mattias wishes to show me the olive orchard he tends. He had told me several stories and was very proud of the orchard. Anxious to spend time with him, I jump at the chance. Walking among the rows of trees, I listen to Mattias’ olive oratory in fluent Spanish with my non-fluent ears.
When he takes a breath, I jump in with a question.
“I see all the beautiful black olive trees, Mattias, but do you have any green olive trees?”
Mattias gives a very hearty laugh. He turns to me with a broad smile and says, “Black olives are just ripe green olives.”
Well, if you don’t just learn something everyday . . . except for Spanish, that is.
