And The Mountains Echoed

All my life, I have lived like an aquarium fish in the safety of a glass tank, behind a barrier as impenetrable as it has been transparent.  I have been free to observe the glimmering world on the other side, to picture myself in it, if I like. But I have always been hemmed in, by the hard unyielding confines of the existence that Baba has constructed for me, at first knowingly, when I was young, and now guilelessly, now that he is fading day-to-day. I think I have grown  accustomed  to the glass and am terrified that when it breaks, when I am alone, I will spill out in to the wide open unknown and flop around, helpless, lost, gasping for breath.

Siblings, parenthood, friendship – words  and topics that make up a good and brilliant story. I won’t attempt to make a review here that would probably spoil your fun in reading the book. This was recently released last May 21 so maybe some of you haven’t got hold of a copy yet.  I read his first two books, The Kite Runner which was released in 2003 and was  adapted into film later and A Thousand Splendid Suns  which was made available to the public in 2007. If you love Amir in The Kite Runner and cried with Mariam and Laila in A Thousand Splendid Suns, you would surely appreciate  Pari and Abdullah  in this new tale  “revolving around brothers and sisters, and the ways in which they love, wound, betray, honor, and sacrifice for each other.”

I wrote a review of his second book  A Thousand Splendid Suns back in 2007 and posted it here  two years later when I was organizing my blogs at Multiply. I was quite excited when I read about his third book  not knowing what to expect since my views of him as a writer  were colored by his first two novels but here is a good review I found after finishing the last page without spoiling your fun of discovering what makes it a five-star in my list of lovely reads.  There is that feeling  when you reach the last few pages and you don’t want it to end  – you feel the intensity, the emotions playing in your mind and you want to know more about the characters who have endeared themselves to you in the first few pages.

My best read so far this 2013.

 

Read Full Post »

Savoring The Quiet

The raindrops linger

And I stand here….

Still

Savoring the quiet

Of a misty morning.

Read Full Post »

Authors And Books

I am going back to reading although it has become a bit slow for me. There was a time when I used to read three books a week, getting  older though made me quite a little slack doing some of my favorite hobbies, reading being one. Come to think of it, among all my books (probably  a thousand of them) there are only two signed copies that I treasure for the simple reason that they are the only signed copies that I have Two years ago, my daughter gave  me a copy of Nicholas Sparks’ The Best of Me   as a birthday gift  on the condition that I attend his book signing at The Podium at Ortigas Center. There was an attached invite from National Bookstore but it was not an assurance that I’ll be able to have my book signed. Nicholas Sparks is more of Nissa’s favorite author so I’ve read almost all of his books. The book signing was right after my birthday so you can just imagine how nervous I was because I have never attended one before.  Read my adventures here on how the day went. It was an unforgettable event in my life. I was really tongue-tied when I met him face to face. All I can utter was “hello Nicholas”.

Richard Paul Evans is  one of my favorite authors. Hmm, let me amend that, he is my favorite author. I’ve blogged  about him so many times here. Last year, I received a signed, first edition copy of his book  The Last Promise , a gift from an online friend that I met at Multiply.  Look at how he signs his books. This may sound  crazy but I guess, the value of a book increases when it is personally signed by the author. Do you agree?

I am looking forward to my three  new books  which will be sent by another friend from the US, my copy of A Thousand Mornings by Mary Oliver and two more latest books by Richard Paul Evans.  Right now, I am in the thick of reading Anne of Avonlea (second in a series of the classic books by L.M. Montgomery).

And I wish that like the late D.J. Salinger, I could do this too, ““What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though.”  It hasn’t happened yet because I don’t have  a terrific friend  who is a book author

Read Full Post »

Remembering My Grandmother (And Celebrating My 4th Year Of Blogging)

I came across this program early this morning on PTV4, a government-owned channel that featured  ASEAN member countries. It made me quite nostalgic seeing those features on handicrafts and hand-made products using materials which are locally grown.  I remember the early years of childhood when I was growing up in the province. Back then, my mom used to stay a lot with Dad here in Manila so my older brother and I were left to the care of our maternal grandma until both of us graduated from grade school and we transferred to UST to spend our high school years there. Growing up having a simple life made me appreciate simple things and embraced what I learned early on.

A friend posted a prayer in our group accompanied by this beautiful painting of a mother and child. Coincidence?  Maybe. I planned earlier to blog about mat weaving which I learned from Baing Cion  (Bai or Baing is the local equivalent of a grandmother in our Pangasinan dialect).

This is called Mag-ina sa Banig, a 1960 painting done by Nestor Leynes.  I thought this is a perfect capture  of  the simplicity of provincial  life forty or so years ago. No aircon to speak of, no TV disruption to idle your time away. That bamboo flooring was enough to enjoy an uninterrupted sleep. It was always cool to the touch and so easy to clean. Buffing it with semi-dried banana leaves was enough.

My grandma  taught me how to weave sleeping mats  ( like the one you see in the picture) made of buri palm which we had plenty of  back then. We would gather buri palms, dry them in the sun then remove the middle portion when they are dried, roll them one by one into as big as a plate then when it is time to weave a mat, we would cut them into long strips by using  wood-mounted razor blades for uniform width. More than learning the art of weaving, I enjoyed those endless stories which would usually start  during the 2nd World War and how they survived as a family and always ends with how she raised her kids with the emphasis on Mom being the brightest of the four girls.

Oh, I almost forgot, today I celebrate my 4th year at WordPress as a blogger. The first two years were mostly about my journey as a cancer patient/survivor and the next two were random entries about life, faith, gardening, photography and such. Life is good and I am well. Thank God for all the wonderful blessings.

Read Full Post »

Random Side Of Things

It was one long weekend which means my son and I were quite busy with small household jobs that need attention.  Good thing yesterday was a holiday too. Gardening is such a rewarding but somewhat tedious job.  Re-potting, trimming the carabao grass, removing weeds from our peanut grass, you name it, we’ve done them all through the weekend.

Anyway, I guess it is time to reward myself  by relaxing a bit, finishing another book by Anita Shreve and checking our cupboards for grocery items that we have missed buying on our quick trip to the supermarket a few days ago.  And it is time to reward the senses and satisfy the palate so to speak. I haven’t baked anything for more than  a month I guess.  I was so lazy to prepare elaborate meals and desserts because of the heat. Several days here still register a hot 35°C. So I made three batches of Raising Oatmeal Cookies (all of 24 large pieces), good enough for several days for my son to munch on

Yeay, even without cinnamon and nuts, this came out so yummy and chewy. How I wish my daughter lives near enough so I can share with her some of these cookies.

For years, I used to blog about month endings and beginnings but I’ve missed blogging on this one. The month of May aside from December is one of my favorite months . It’s that month between the vapid heat of the summer and the  rainy season. May is the month of flowers, hence, I am documenting all the blooms in my garden now. And May is the month of Mama Mary. Yesterday was our village fiesta too. Although we don’t celebrate it as festive as those we have in the province, it is still  lovely to see and listen to the sound of a band playing so early in the morning.  And aside from the morning mass in honor of St. Joseph the Worker, there was a short procession around the village.

Hopefully in the next few days, I could start reading books which were put in the back shelves.  I miss reading Mary Oliver, Marianne Williamson and Rod McKuen’s poetry. They are my night read before retiring. Sometimes, I dream of the lines which are etched in my soul and I wish I were a poet too who could express the words beautifully like a song that rhymes. I’ve followed  a friend’s suggestion that I have a notebook anywhere I go but then the words sometimes come at those inopportune moments – while loading the washing machine, feeding the dogs or drenching our parched carabao grass. Why is it that one’s mind becomes pregnant with all these imaginings when it is so inconvenient to hold a pen and write?

Read Full Post »

When You’re Crazy Enough To Do Something Crazy

Don’t laugh…it’s not what you think! Two nights ago (how would you categorize 3:45am…between night and morn?) I woke up to the reflection of the  full moon on my bedroom window.  Everything was bathed in soft light and I just could not resist going to the garden and gazing at the moon. I thought it was too late to go back to bed and still too early to prepare breakfast. Yes, why not, why not take the chance of taking a few shots with only the street lights and the light in our dining  area reflecting its glow at our french windows? Crazy? Well, it was another experiment that I am glad I did.

I like this actually because it turned out like a black and white picture with my gardenia shrub on the foreground.

And this came as a bonus. My Vanda blooms turned out pretty well on a dark background.

Read Full Post »

Of Dreams And Music

I haven’t blogged for more than a week. Has it been that long?  My mom’s 84th birthday celebration last Saturday  was a mini-reunion for my two brothers, their families and Nissa’s family sans of course our youngest  brother and his family whom I haven’t seen for more than five years but we get in touch often through phone calls and e-mails. He’s been in the United States since 1991 and he has embraced the American way of life.

Josef and I embarked on a bold project of painting our grills and two front gates over the weekend.  It’s fun to undergo something like this but the heat hinders us from working the whole day. Anyway, our gates are sporting a new look – in bold reddish maroon color. We were able to finish painting the two spans of metal grills fronting the house and there is a lot more to do in the coming weekends. It’s good, paints nowadays no longer have that strong smell that makes you cough. Davies paints are odorless and easy to apply. You need to have a good brush and roller though to make everything smooth. It is an accomplishment that I am proud of.

Last night, I dreamed I was teacher. Yes, I was teaching high school kids to appreciate music. It’s not the kind though where you need to recognize wind instruments and chimes or guitars. I was teaching them how to listen to David Cassidy singing Cherish and The Associations belting out their more popular Never My Love. Ancient you might say but I remember in my dream telling them about the British Invasion in the music world and what baby boomer means .  Earlier on, a friend posted some old, old songs from YouTube and it made me remember being a child of the sixties. Then I suddenly thought of  teen idol David Cassidy. I was in high school during the early seventies and one such program that I never failed to watch was The Partridge Family. Never mind that we didn’t have our own TV set and just viewed the series on a small black and white unit of our neighbor whose children loved the same program.  It was such a poignant reminiscing of the good old days. I also remember another figure that I loved, Mark Lester. I used to scrimp on my allowance just to be able to buy the monthly issues of Jingle Chordbook magazines where most of the time, they had colored posters of popular singers back then.  I never learned  how to play the guitar though because my eldest brother who taught me was left-handed and even if I could read the chords it was hard to interpret it when you were  holding it the other way. My dad used to play the guitar and even composed some songs in the vernacular and one of my uncles played the violin. I guess I was the only one who never learned, but I am proud to say I could carry a tune. So much for dreams and music.  Hearing your favorite tunes from childhood makes you smile.

 

Read Full Post »

Don’t Ask me Again, I’m Still Not Convinced

A friend who is an avid Facebook user asked me once why I am not using the networked blogging platform of  FB. Although I am an avid Facebook user too, because my religious friends and I have a page to update, I am still not convinced  that it is wise to share all your thoughts in such a chaotic world like Facebook. There is that hesitant feeling that my blog won’t be safe if I announce  it to the whole world that I blog at  WordPress.  I know, I know, you might say that the latter is public too and anybody would be able to find you, right? I just feel protected using this blogging platform than anywhere else.  If  Facebook is a game, they are forever changing the rules. It’s either you delete your account or stay on the sidelines.  I still link some posts though but they are limited to my friends. I am not after the number of viewers who visit my blog, I’d rather have a meaningful exchanges of comments with fellow bloggers who truly appreciate what I write.  Same holds true with each post that I like and each blogger that I follow. I may not always leave comments but I appreciate what they share.  Less than a month from now, I’ll be celebrating my 4th year into blogging. I celebrate the date that I posted my first blog and not the time when I bravely opened an account at  WordPress, not knowing how to go about it and it took me more than a year to have the courage to update my blog here. It is not easy to share your thoughts to everyone, it is not easy to open yourself to people you don’t know from Adam but the nicest feeling comes when someone says, he/she is inspired by what you share.

I wouldn’t know how long it would take me to blog and find words to express my thoughts, I wouldn’t know how long it would take me to snap those pics that I share here but then, the feeling of fulfillment that I get is reward enough. Looking back, I just could not believe that I have posted about 1,204 entries at Dreams and Escapes and  around 240 entries at  my three other blogs that I have here. Dreams and Escapes has quietly reached 194,931 views as of this writing.  My heartfelt “thank you” from all of you.

Read Full Post »

One Small Step

Sometimes, life needs to be taken one small step at a time so you can learn to appreciate what is in front of you and look back with fondness what you left behind.

Read Full Post »

After A Day’s Work

….the calm and quiet

after a day’s work

loving the smell of newly trimmed

carabao grass

and seeing the repotted plants

lining up the wall

a hot cup of peppermint tea

and chocolate cookies.

another perfect day

despite the hard work.

being a gardener has its rewards…..

 

Read Full Post »