May is the most miserable month of the year, and we’ve just entered it. What’s so bad about May? It’s hot, or rather what passes for hot at 7,200 feet above sea level where it’s cool to cold most of the year, which we like. And it’s not just hot. It’s dusty and dry. Most of the year it’s green, wet or damp, which we also like.
You’d likely refer to May here as stuffy. I sometimes do.
Turning now to positive things, May is limeade month. Limeade in the afternoons makes the days more palatable. Here at the Hacienda, I am the limeade maker. Interestingly, Mexicans don’t call them limes. They are limones, lemons. The larger, yellow fruit that Gringos call lemons are far less common down here.
My recipe is easy. A glass the size in the photo. Squeeze four limes into the glass, then add 2.5 tablespoons of that bottled sugar water. Stir and add ice. The bottle of sugar water is available where bar supplies are sold. I’m almost to the bottom of this bottle which I bought at least three years ago. It doesn’t go bad.
I have professional skills. Back in the 1970s, I was a bartender in two establishments in New Orleans. I was fired from both, the only jobs in my life from which I was fired.
Those who know my history might think it was due to my imbibing the merchandise, but it wasn’t. One was a hotel bar which I think was run by the Mafia. The manager decided he didn’t like my style, so out the door I went. The other bar was in the French Quarter. That manager and I had eyes for the same woman, a major babe who waitressed at the bar. He got rid of me, but I got the gal. I enjoyed being a bartender.
I am a certified bartender. Yes, I even completed a course.