Hurtling.

Lately, all I seem to be doing is oscillate.

I bounce day to day from one project to the next, from one event to the next.

The furnishing of the new home had been fun, tiring, but adventure filled. We must have scoured every interesting nook and cranny of the Metro and nearby provinces looking for inexpensive, but tasteful finds. We were amazed at the amount of available material and most of our free time had been spent driving, walking, arguing, giggling, scoffing at outrageously priced/pompous merchandise, and winking at each other after scoring bargains. It’s nice that P and I can talk about anything. In all our years together, I’ve never been bored in his company (although I must add that he is impossibly useless in haggling and is a bit of a pahamak. He latches very obviously onto favorites; ruining our chance of getting discounts).

Some of our flea market finds.

2008 has been a great year and I'm sad to see it almost ending. In the second quarter of the year we have made our second real-estate purchase, a 2-bedroom condo unit which is a stone’s throw away from the bustling Boni Hi St. I told P that I could now walk to my favorite bookstore anytime. 

Last Oct., the land we bought in the South was turned over. Our plan was to build a home there in 2010, but, with the acquisition of the condo, it may have to wait awhile. But it was nice. Land is always nice. I told the turnover guy that nothing makes a Filipino person’s heart beat faster than the prospect and realization of owning land.

Our piece of earth.

A month ago we have been agog trying to find the perfect tree for our city home and we found it in a mall in Makati, just the right size, height, and bushiness. P woke me up one morning to set it up. Honestly, I tried a bit to help out, but left the designing to P, who is the more artistic one.

The Design Team.

So, a few days a week we go to our nest to play house. I do the cooking, like I used to when we were at our apartment in Mandaluyong and newly married. I remember going home then from the market with both arms laden with bayongs containing provisions good for two weeks. I cooked everything then: from dinuguan to pasta, and the crabs and other shellfishes that P is so fond of—steamed, baked, sauteed, or cooked with leftover red or white wine. In the markets of Edsa Central I learned for the first time about alimangong bakla, the fat of which is just the perfect consistency when cooked, not too hard.

(From top, CCW) Ginataang Tilapia, Almondigas,

White and milk chocolates for making into candies.

Now, it’s November, a few days and I’m turning 33. The winds in our Laguna home blow cool and regularly, the sun looks gentle on the leaves of trees. What else can I say? I’m grateful. I’m happy.   

Damn.

And so it is in the nature of big families (where you have siblings or cousins born a decade or more ahead of you) that there will be weird relationship dynamics—like you’ll probably have aunts younger than their nieces/nephews or children admonished by their mothers not to hit the new baby because, after all, he is an uncle (this sort of weirdness).

Recently, in an impromptu family gathering, I was told by a first cousin that her son has just become a father. After we all went ha-ha, God, you’re so old you have a son who’s a father! The laughter died a natural death in our throats when we realized that this bit of info. had once again altered the family dynamic. We now cease to be merely aunts, we’re . . .  we’re . . .

Yes, folks, at 32, I am now somebody’s lola.

What the . . .!

***

In another news . . .

A few days ago my husband’s cell phone signaled  an incoming text and I went to the fone to read his message (yes, this is just one of the perks of being a wife). Told him, “It’s work, they’re asking you to approve the text to an ad.” Hubby went to check message and said, “OK, na ‘to.”
Me: Shouldn’t the word “ur” in the ad, since it was used as a contraction of the words “you” and “are,” be written with an inverted comma, as in “u’r”?
Hubby: No, youth speak yan, ganyan talaga sila magsalita.
Me: Yes, I know, but shouldn’t media correct this as it’s an obvious error?
Hubby: No ganyan talaga yan.
Me: Kaya nga, shouldn’t you correct it . . .
Hubby: Sweetheart, youth nga e.
Me: (Laughs out loud) Walanghiya ka. OK, I get it.

Yes, folks, at 32,  my husband no longer considers me part of the “youth” segment.

Wiset.

The Sea.

La Mer

If it were up to me, I’d live near the sea. I’d live by the sea. Heck, I’d live in the sea. I’d wear starfishes and seaweeds in my hair. I’d play Chopin for the waves to undulate to. I’d ride the backs of whales. I’d talk to palm trees. I’d get me a gang of fish thugs and we’d roam the seafloors for action. At night, when the sea glitters like a jewel under the iridescent sky, I’d sit next to a crab.

Together, we’d howl our life stories to the moon.