This year our tamales were made with:

Lard we rendered ourselves,
Feral hog we killed and butchered ourselves,
And serranos we grew in the garden.

On another note, I was baking chocolate chip cookies earlier and was moving one of the loaded cooling racks around and one of its supports collapsed and ka-WHOOSH, there was a waterfall of hot, aromatic, butter-laden chocolate chip cookies pouring off the counter and right onto the dog.

For one brief, shining moment, the dog thought that it was the BEST NIGHT EVAR and his big brown eyes sparkled with a canine tear as he ducked his head to investigate the manna from heaven and I screamed, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! GO KENNEL!” and he realized that he probably did something very wrong to make the cookies happen and went to cower in his box as I burned my hands cleaning up Floor Cookies.

They only have a little hair on them.

Happy New Year, everyone!

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