The mistress of ceremonies, a local poetess named Alicia Larralde de Ferrero, did not observe that more than a dozen uninvited guests had joined the audience.
“[Registration week] always been The Hunger Games of scheduling,” Valdez said. “You ultimately get in based on timing and luck.”
Many moons had waxed and waned when on the afternoon of a lovely summer day a lusty broad-boned knight was riding through the forest of Sherwood.
A matanza was another busy time for the Spaniards. This was the butchering or killing of the cattle for their hides.
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