Cinco de Mayo (feat. Yardwork)

Buenos Noches, niños.

So Cinco de Mayo isn't something the Houghs generally choose to celebrate.  While I have absolutely nothing against Mexican culture or Mexico itself (I've been there, I enjoyed it), I personally don't get any satisfaction from reminiscing about Mexico's fight for independence from France (yes, France - they used to own Mexico.)  I have no Mexican heritage, so I honestly don't care.

While that may sound harsh, I also don't care about Bastille Day.  Or Throne Day.  Or Czech Founding Day.  Let other countries have their days of independence and cultural heritage, I'll keep mine on the f***ing 4th of July.  'Cause 'Merica.

Other folks, however, seem to get a serious kick out of celebrating the independence of some other country, regardless of whether or not their heritage reflects it.  And while I can't say we have any friends that throw a bitchin' Canada Day party, we do have some friends that choose to honor their non-existent Mexican heritage by throwing Cinco de Mayo parties.

We have a lot of whatever these flowers are. . .

Because who doesn't like Mexican food and tequila, am I right?

(Time to step up your food game, Canada.)

Anyway, so as it turned out, we had ourselves a Cinco de Mayo party to attend this evening, and up until then Yours Truly spent the majority of the morning and afternoon re-mulching some of the garden beds throughout the yard.  'Cause Spring.

So here we go - cómo la familia Hough celebró el Cinco de Mayo.

Todos disfrutan. . .

A sound majority of our many, many garden beds had mulch that was in pretty rough shape, so even last summer Kris and I knew we were going to have to drop a small fortune on mulch in the spring.  I ended up buying 30 or 40 bags of mulch (Kris wanted black) from Lowe's that had gone on sale, so we actually got a pretty awesome deal on it.  After mulching the front garden bed, we turned our sights on the backyard's foremost garden bed - the biggest and most-cared for garden we have.

The black looks pretty sharp now, clearly, but as small animals, kids, and Watson tear through it for whatever reason, the lighter mulch underneath is sure to spill out and get mixed in with it.  I'm sure that's going to look like pure shit.

Before. . .

. . . and After.

Before. . .

. . . and After.

Before. . .

. . . and After.

It took me a couple hours to mulch the whole thing, which I did by myself while Kris had the girls working on cleaning up the inside of the house.

We're not going to mulch anymore of the yard, as the perimeter beds along the back and sides of the backyard we're thinking about doing in rock at some point (as well as the garden bed by the shed.)

Before heading out to the Shepherd residence for their annual Cinco de Mayo party, Kris whipped up a home-made jug of Sangria.  When in Mexico. . .

The Kentucky Derby just so happened to be taking place while we were all at this party, so everyone chipped in $5 and we all bet on a horse by drawing a name out of a hat.  We ended up with a real stinker (I forget the asshole's name, but he ended up in, like, fifth place or something). . .

So long, Five Dollars. . . 

Taco-shaped pinatas?  "Es muy bueno," says the Cannonball.

Someone else - not our kid, obviously - ended up smiting the shit out of it, and accordingly thereafter the entire backyard exploded in a frenzy.

She ate the majority of this plunder while still at the party, and declined to share any later with her little sister (who was away staying the night at a friend's house.)

Ummmm. . . . yoga?

There was a ridiculous amount of food on hand - everyone brought Mexican-ish dishes to share, so we all ate like a bunch of fat-asses.

There was also some of this done by the padres.

And then you have the Macarena.  'Cause it, too, is Mexican.

- Brian