What Life Is All About

I’ve been awake since 2:30am. Crazy, isn’t  it? I had a shuteye though this afternoon. It rained early this morning but Josef and I did a quick trip to the wet market despite the rain. I was lucky to find a  fresh bundle of young garlic. What a joy, just perfect for a rainy day.  I’ve been on the lookout for this ever since I tasted it a few months ago at my son-in-law’s house. Although it is more expensive than the matured ones, it is best mixed with soup, a simple recipe of Chinese sotanghon and ground pork. The nutty flavor of the sliced young garlic is just so yummy  I wish a bought a kilo instead of just a little bundle.  You slice it thinly as you would an onion, sauté it with celery stalk  and pork, adding a little salt and pepper then the sotanghon last. It’s best while  it’s hot.

A productive day for arranging books , transferring some notes to my journal, blogging about Nate’s trip to Siquijor and Dumaguete, a little gardening this afternoon, what more could one ask, squeezing a little of everything in one day.

I was looking at the pictures that Nissa sent thru Viber earlier and I was thrilled to see our little Nate enjoying his four-day vacation with his mom and dad. He must be wondering where they were,  different places, lovely scenery, lots of swimming to boot and a wide playground where he could roam around. This particular picture made me smile, I could imagine that hammock swaying gently through the breeze. What an adventure for a two-year old boy.

It must be fun to just be here, with nary a thought of anything but the joy of the moment, the touch of the sand on your toes and the sound of the ocean waves nearby.

Have you ever tried reacquainting yourself with children’s books? I did while I was covering Nate’s books this afternoon. Another weird thing to do but an enjoyable one.  I am into e-books again. Let me correct that, I am alternating reading my loot last August and some short stories in between. I want to reread another favorite since I was in college.  A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, published in 1943 and was written by Betty Smith. Have you read it?

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Did I Say, It’s 42 Days To Go Before Christmas?

♪♫have yourself a merry little Christmas. let your heart be light♪♫♪

Do I hear the music playing? Gosh, the days are definitely chasing each other. Josef and I have finally put up our minimal  Christmas decor and I love the look of our home now. Mind you, these are recycled  decorations that we have accumulated over the years and lovingly restored just for this occasion. I know some of you don’t celebrate Christmas the way we do here in our country, three long months of celebration.  Shopping malls are truly alive during this season because they usually put up their larger than life Christmas trees, trimmings and twinkling LED lights as early as September. Where can you find Christmas songs being played all day long? An  advertising gimmick to lure more shoppers of course. We are vulnerable that way because we love Christmas.  I’ve done shopping for some gifts for the family but I haven’t completed  my list yet. This is the first time that we did the decorating this early. I took advantage of Josef’s vacation leave to sort what to put up. I bought something new of course and it was the first time I did it – a set of pillow cases in Christmas prints.

I bought those empty rattan carts a year ago and embellished them with Christmas balls and flowers. That white porcelain nativity set was a gift from a friend many years ago and I just love it.

Our town is participating in a Christmas tree contest in the whole province of Rizal. The large Christmas tree displayed at the grounds of our municipal hall is made from recycled soft drink bottles. I hope we win 🙂

Don’t look now but I’ve finally been able to find some pictures of the Ayala Triangle gardens. The tradition continues with the  Festival of Lights happening  every 30 minutes from 6pm to 10 pm every night starting today and will continue till January 04, 2015. I got these two pictures from the timeline of JAZA (Jaime Augusto Zobel de Ayala), one of the big bosses of Ayala Group of Companies, Bank of PI included. I am sure he wouldn’t mind if I post them here 🙂 He has a page on FB which most former unibankers like me follow.

Courtesy of JAZA. Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Ayala Corp.

Photo courtesy of Jaime Augusto Zobel de Ayala.

I hope I would be able to visit this and watch musicians/composers sing Christmas carols of old. This is right in front of Nissa’s office building.

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Musings

There is not only more to each soul’s journey than we imagine, usually there is more than we can imagine. –richard paul evans

Why is it that sometimes, my day seems so incomplete if I don’t share my thoughts here?  I remember  that one time a friend told me that “even blogging is a way of life”. Do you agree?

Five years, a long time to share one’s thoughts in cyber space. I never thought that I will last  this long in the blogging world. It gets more addicting when you find new  friends who really and sincerely admire your posts and  read everything  down to the misplaced comma or misspelled word.  Maybe if I would collate all these from the first few lines I wrote when I started, I’ll have a thick book by now. Scattered thoughts, broken dreams, unfulfilled promises, disappointments, happy and delirious moments that I just have to write about because seeing them in print (even just in this platform) is the only way I know how.  Somehow when you feel so alone in a crowd, you turn to something that would make your world a little brighter even just for a few moments.  The good thing about writing your thoughts (but not necessarily sharing them to the world) is that you learn to cope with the dark days and see the promise of a new day. The sun always rises even if there is a storm but you don’t always see it. You look back and sometimes you wonder, did you really think that it would make a big difference to the world or  make a dent in yours?  I must admit, there is that kind of self-fulfillment when you write no matter how mundane or unimaginative your thoughts are.

Two nights ago, I dreamed of Dad. You know that kind of dream that goes on through the night and lasts till you open your eyes to the morning sun touching your face. It’s been almost seven years now since he left us one Friday night in a cold December.  I miss those days when  we used to talk a lot about anything under the sun, the way he struggled in life at a very young age because my grandfather who got married a second time when they were small cannot afford to send them all to school at the same time. They were fifteen in all (half-siblings included) and I was a year older than my youngest aunt. We were quite lucky to study in a prestigious  university  all through high school and college because of his efforts. He was a brave soul and I miss him. It is always around this time of year that I get so nostalgic and yearn for the good old days when he was alive. I always blog about him  on his birthday and death anniversary.

This might seem a childish wish, but I want to see Ayala Avenue at night with all the twinkling  dancing lights and sounds,  some moments that would make a child wish for a starry, starry night.  I asked Nissa if she could take a picture of  it some time before they go home after office.

Life told, dreams shared, moments cherished. The journey is one long road of discovery.

(this is my 1,535th post according to WordPress)

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When You Have Nothing To Do, Read Labels

I love collecting journals, that’s a fact. I have at least a dozen more  blank pages to fill up. Of course when you love writing, you also love having so many writing materials at your disposal right? I won’t say, it is a love affair with tech pens, colored pencils, Sharpie  and Stabilo markers. It all started when I was in my junior year in college majoring in Economics. I was fascinated with graphs. I don’t know of any other course that uses more graphs than Economics. Theories are presented in pie charts, bar graphs, curves, the X and Y points and the like. Using graphs means using different colors of pencils/pens to make it more understandable (at least in our time).  I am digressing again so let’s go back to paper and pen.

Just this morning I noticed that I was half way through a thick journal that I started almost two years ago, when Nate was born  and I scribbled some notes while we were at the hospital. It was followed by several recipes  and baking tips culled from the internet. Lately it has become a hodgepodge of thoughts and  ramblings, friends’ contact numbers and mailing addresses, quotes taken from recent reads, books I want to have on my shelves and some scribblings that I haven’t published on WordPress. Haha, this is really funny 🙂  A friend gifted me with a Pilot tech pen labeled .7 so I asked Josef if the print is smaller than the three tech pens he bought me with a .4 mark. He looked at me as if I have forgotten to do simple Math or Arithmetic, hay!

Last Saturday, we were at the mall and first stop was at a bookstore. I was looking for a fine-point marker that I could use to label my grocery purchases. You might find it weird that despite the expiry dates written clearly but finely on each can and box of grocery items, I still write them in bold letters and arrange them in  the pantry by expiry dates. OC? Probably.  Sometimes, I get confused by the words Best By, Use By, Best Before. What do they actually mean when you see these words? When it says the expiry date is 12/14, will it expire right at the start of December or by month-end? Packing codes which are a jumble of numbers in a particular product  are mostly found in cosmetic  items, shampoos, detergents, toiletries etc. I  asked a shop assistant once in a grocery store how they know when an item like bars of soap are already expired. He told me that the dates displayed on the box is the manufacturing date and  the expiry is normally three years after  if they stay unopened.

Do you read nutrition facts on grocery items? I do, although at times even if you know that it is not that healthy, still you buy it. Junk food is plenty in grocery stores. It is your own look-out to feed yourself with such unhealthy snacks just because you are tempted  to grab them at the grocery shelves.  This  Christmas, I  am planning to cook my own home-cured ham, a healthy alternative to store-bought ones that are sometimes too salty for my liking.

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Pink Over Red?

Pretty in pink…

And in red too….

A few days ago, I blogged about the new buds of my pink Mokara orchids. Here they are in full bloom now. The red blooms are just as pretty as the pink ones.

What a lovely way to greet the morning!

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Good Old Family Bonding

One thing great about unplanned meeting  is that, it almost always pushes through unlike other times when you have anticipated and looked forward to it only to find that it was just that – a plan. You feel disappointed.  Last Friday was one of those spur of the moment decisions to have lunch with the kids. Since it was a  Friday and Josef was still on vacation leave so off we went to Makati to meet Nissa during her lunch break. She needs a xerox copy of Nate’s birth certificate  for their flight on Tuesday so I have a perfect excuse to tag  along.  We had lunch at Cafe France. I enjoyed looking at their display of French bread, croissants, pastries and cookies. My busy mind was at work the whole time I looked at the arrangement on their shelves. I was thinking, “I’ll bake my own Vienna loaf or sourdough one of these days.” I was pleasantly surprised when Nissa told me that it used to be called Deli France and she meant my favorite hangout with some friends years and years ago. Have I grown that old that I never noticed that it has changed its name all these years or have I become such a recluse, often afraid to go out alone?

I used to attend high school reunions on a regular basis but then even that has lost its magic. Seeing my former classmates on Facebook  is now enough for me.  I have my group now, mostly members of our Catholic page where I am an admin. They are OFWs  (overseas Filipino workers) who make sacrifices being away  to earn a few dollars to support their family back home. When they go home for vacation, some of them drop by to see me  and we usually have  long chats on how life is away from one’s family.  I know, I always tell them, I was a OFW wife for more than twenty years. I know what one feels when you are faced with a gargantuan task of raising a family alone while at the same time trying to balance a day job.  Maybe, I was luckier than most to have found reliable minders to my kids back then.

Things do not always end the way you planned. Sometimes, there is a greater force you have no control of. These are those things that make you stronger in faith that you will get through it all.  The richness of life does not always come from good things thrown  your way,  most of it comes from your experience of what pain is all about and how you cope with it. You learn and you learn well. When the journey becomes a perilous path of uncertainty, you pray hard for guidance and God never disappoints.

On a lighter note, I am quite happy that we have finished putting some Christmas decor. Most are recycled and favorite pieces over the years.  I took advantage of Josef being  home to help me hang  the trimmings. I am still thinking of putting Christmas lights on the newly trimmed tree in our garden.  We have this kind of pine  tree that I can’t identify planted near our little pond and I think it would be perfect for that holiday touch.

 

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A Little Thought About Christmas

I briefly went out to unlock the gate and a cold wind brushed my cheeks. Cold nights and cold mornings are finally here. In our corner of the world, that means Christmas is near.  I haven’t done my Christmas shopping yet but my list has narrowed down a  bit. It’s mostly for family now. Years ago, I dreamed of just baking some goodies  for our neighbors and a few close friends I still get in touch with. I guess, I know enough now to make it happen.  As you grow older, the Christmas list is a little shorter because what matters is not the material gifts but more on what you share from the heart. There was a time in the distant past (when I was still working) that I used to buy all my gifts for family and friends even at the start of the year and by September, everything is ready.  I love  it to be a little personalized keeping in mind the particular person I want to give the gift to. I used to wrap them up and lovingly embellish the boxes with ribbons. That’s when Nissa’s craft supplies come in handy. The crimping scissors, glue sticks, wrappers, ribbons and all the accoutrements we have collected over the years. I recently visited my photo albums at Photobucket and found these. I don’t have any picture on my Zoom browser application except for the latest shots of my Mokara orchids.

the fun of crafting…

I love using local materials which are cheaper and fun to do. I have a stash of greeting cards for all occasions and I still use them now and then. One thing that I miss nowadays is receiving  hand-written cards  and letters from friends. I am reviving it this Christmas.  I will buy greeting cards and write. There was a time in our small group of online friends at Multiply before when we exchanged letters and postcards and it was fun. Every day, I would check if there is one in the mail.

and the joy of wrapping gifts…

I am excited. It’s 48 days to go before Christmas. Since Josef is on leave, we will visit Nissa later at her office to have lunch together.  They have scheduled a trip next week to celebrate their wedding anniversary and Nate’s second birthday and they have chosen Siquijor and Dumaguete City in their itinerary. Siquijor is a lovely island province in Central Visayas. Like Boracay, it boasts of white sands and lovely beaches. Lucky Nate to have a wide and big playground for a few days.

 

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Things I Should Have Done But Didn’t

I know, I know, some of you would probably say or think there is still time. It seems as if time is running out on me, of course not and that is not why I am writing this blog. At some point in our lives, we think of things that we would like to do, things we would  like to try at least once, things that somehow in the course of the years remain just that –  pipe dreams, still.

When  the kids were young and I was still working, I kept on thinking, when they grow up, I would plan to do all these but family life will always be a priority and still is until now. These come in no particular order or how important they are in my life. I just thought I could still make up for lost time and do a thing or two.

– enrol in a culinary school. And I don’t mean just the six sessions I did at Sylvia Reynoso Gala Culinary Studio with Sylvia herself and her two kids Ernest and Morella.  Learning the basics of cooking for more than your family and close friends, learning how to prepare Chinese food with fresh ingredients, learning how to bake bars, cookies and simple bread, I think there is more to culinary arts than this. I learned a lot though, but still it was not enough. You need  sizable financial resources now to enrol in a named culinary school and I don’t have that.

–  rappelling. Rappelling, are you kidding? How can that be? My daughter did it when she was in high school  in one of their school activities. My knees tremble looking down from a higher place. That goes the same with zip line.  Nissa has lovely pictures when she and her friends did zip lining in Tagaytay. I remember one time when we went to Enchanted Kingdom and they did all the rides except me. I was content watching and taking pictures.

– biking. Oh please, don’t laugh. At my age, I never  learned how to bike. The only brave thing I did was to drive a tri bike, the one which has a back ride. I had good balance that way, perfect opportunity to drive my children around the village when they were kids. Every kid in town learned  how to bike, except this kid.

–swimming. I’d like to think I have an affinity with the sea with all its angst and gentle waves lapping at my feet but I was so afraid to let my body sink into the water without touching the floor.  Staying on the shore, looking at the blue ocean waters, watching the sunrise and the golden sunset and finding shells were more my thing. Back in the province, we have this clean river where we used to  go  to during the summer months or where we catch fish at the start of the rainy season.  Those were the times when I truly enjoyed it, fishing with mom and dad during school break.

– horseback riding.  Here in our country, that’s for the upper class, if you know what I mean. My grandson Nate is luckier than I am because he has already experienced a pony ride in Tagaytay.

– writing a book. There is still a possibility here but I only dream of writing one, some sort of memoirs perhaps. Ambitious, right?  I’d like to share to the whole world, particularly to those undergoing health issues right now  that there is life after cancer, that you could still  dream  after chemotherapy, that the latter is not always the best recourse for treatment.

I don’t know if I could do one of these but I am sure I could still learn to cook paella (with all the ingredients and trimmings) or probably chicken galantina for Christmas Eve and bake my birthday cake next time.

 

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Thank You

If you’re reading this I would love to thank you  from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for all your wonderful comments and likes to my posts. It is so amazing to know that you find something interesting here. I learned that sharing one’s stories takes more courage than I expect  but the good feeling that you have touched someone lingers longer than the next post.

I tried taking a screen shot of my blog stats. You are part of it. Thank you.

 

 

 

 

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Speaking Of Age

This morning I visited one of the branches of Bank of PI where I used to work and I suddenly missed the daily grind in the banking world. It’s been fourteen years since I left the bank and availed of an early retirement. Taking a commute always has its moments of fun and laughter sometimes.

I took a jeepney  going to and from the bank, a twenty-minute ride from our place  (tricycle ride from the subdivision included). On my way home from the mall just across the bank, a jeepney was waiting for more riders. An old  lady with a cane was dragging her feet to hop on the jeepney so we helped her take her seat. When she did, she said, “the difficulty of getting old”. Another passenger in front of her asked, “How old are you?” She answered, “I’m 78 now”.

Wow, she’s seventy-eight years old, twenty years older than I am but then she does not look her age. She asked the other passenger her age in return and the latter answered, “I am 64”. The old  lady  continued, “I was still working when I was your age, selling insurance plans”. The other passengers and I smiled. You know, that kind of shy smiles that you get to bestow on a new-found friend. It was the start of a lively conversation inside the jeep. She told us that she got rid of her household help of four years, a gossipy woman that she can’t tolerate. She lives alone, her  children are residing abroad. Then she turned to me and asked, “Why are you wearing a face mask?” I told her I am allergic to the gas fumes emitted by the vehicles and motorcycles, I don’t want my resistance to run low because of it and casually mentioned that I am a survivor. She looked at me like I am from  planet Mars and with a smile said, “you look healthy”. Another five minutes of exchanging ideas and views about the importance of health and such. Her parting words before she alighted from the jeepney was, “I pray every night that God embraces me when I am asleep because I’ll never know if I am going to wake up again. At my age, I have to be careful because I am alone”. It set me thinking – the bane of getting on with age and growing older.

During the tricycle ride home, I was beside an old lady who was busy searching for coins in her pocket  and behind us were two old ladies giggling like teenagers while having a chat. The other one said, “mamaya ka na magbayad pag bumaba ka na” meaning she can just pay later. When she alighted from the tricycle, the driver said, “bayad na ho”. A teenager riding at the back paid for her fare. What a nice gesture, it made me smile all the way home.

Sometimes  I just feel happy talking to baggers in supermarkets, cashiers in malls and vendors in wet markets. Sometimes I ask myself why they open up to complete strangers and share a little of life’s journeys. Maybe, it’s the anonymity of it all. Maybe, what we need is to get in touch with people often. Saying “hello” or “good morning” might make a big difference in their lives and talking to them makes it worthwhile.

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