New home.

Will be hanging out here for a while. 

Goody!

This is Jun's b'day gift for me this year. Come have a look! 

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.

Poetry.

Reading by the sea.

Last year, my friend, Jun, gifted me with a copy of an anthology of poetry where he had contributed some of his luminous works. It took me a while to finish reading the book because I only read it when I am near the sea.

For it seems we have longer summers now (because of global warming. Heh. I don’t know if this is cause for joy or not) and I have had several occasions last year and this year to visit some of our wonderful beaches (we’re so lucky we have some of the best beaches in the world!) and so I was able to close the last page to Latay sa Isipan: Mga Bagong Tulang Filipino (Cirilo Bautista, Allan Popa, eds. UST Publishing House, ‘07) only recently.

Reading beautiful poetry is like salve to a weary soul. Reading it near the sea--sparkling, radiant, endless sea-- is an experience (for me) that parallels no other.

Here are a few of my favorite selections in the book:
     

Excerpt from Ricardo Fernando III’s  “Despidida”

Nagpaalam ka naman ngunit hindi ko inakalang
    aalis ka ng bahay
sa gitna ng gabi habang ako’y natutulog sa
    inaamag nating kama,
hindi ako nakapaghanda
sa biglaang paggaan ng aking tabi kaya’t tila
    naalimpungatang
bumangon ako at nanaginip.

Excerpt from Sonia Gerilya’s “Bigat”

II
Sige. Gaaano ngayon kabigat
ang tadyang ko at balikat?
--dalawang pares na pambaba at pantaas
basa pa ang laylayan at manggas
--sabong panlaba sa karton ng gatas
--limang gatang  na bigas
--duyang may pekas
--sampares na medyas
--kolgeyt at tutbras
--isang ream ng Silyab na bagong labas
--posas
--isang supot ng pasas
--malong na kupas
--dalawang lata ng sardinas
--kopya ng GaMas
--limang oras
--armas
--at ikaw, isang kasamang pantas.

Excerpt from Jerry B. Gracio’s “Silip”

Nakatutuwang isipin
na sa ating pinakapribadong gawain,
Nakabantay ang Diyos,
nakikinig, nakatingin, at oo,
maaari nating itigil ang romansahan,
ipagpaliban ang pagtatalik
sa ibang araw, at iwanang
bitin ang diyos.

Excerpt from Mayo Uno Martin’s “Masdan Mo ang mga Bata”

Inaabisuhan ko po ang lahat ng magiging ina:
Mag-ingat sapagkat ang dinadala sa sinapupunan
ang maghahatid sa inyo sa hukay.

Excerpt from Rosmon Tuazon’s “Salansan”

4
Biglang sinapian ng lula ang mga uwak.
Walang-hanggan silang nangalalaglag.

Hindi masasaklaw ng kuwadro ang lawak

ng taniman. Ngunit makukutuban ang panginginig

ng mga uhay--
inaakalang anumang padapo, pasalakay.

***

And here are two of Jun Lisondra’s poems in full: 

“Nagpapaumanhin ang mga Kaluskos nilang Tinutungo ang Dawag”

Hindi magtatagal ang lahat
ng ito, aking panganay.

Nakabuslo sa puyo ni Aliguyon
ang mga nag-aamarilyong talahiban
ng Puncan, at dito sa kinatatayuan,
langhap natin ang nakaambang mga pangarap
sa anino nilang kinakanlong
ng malalayong gubat. Paano ko bang
ipasusukat sa iyo ang lalim ng halaga
ng kanilang awit, ng aming tula.
Humaharap sila sa ating mga hapag
tuwing gabi upang makidildiil sa ating asin.
Tinitimbang nila ang iyong mithi,
at pagkatapos, nag-iiwan sila sa atin
ng mga pangako at pasasalamat.
Nagpapaumanhin ang mga kaluskos
nilang tinutungo ang dawag. Hinaharap
kita habang iniilawan ng mga nagdaraang alitaptap
ang iyong mukha, at bago magtanong
ang mga mata, isang tapik ng pamamaalam
ang isinasagot ko sa iyong balikat.


“Patungo sa Matandang Pueblo”

Itinutulak
ng estrangherong dalagita
ang pedal paahon sa adobeng daan,
umiiwas sa lente ang batang
nakasilip sa pintuan
habang ako’y papalapit
sa kanilang casa roja.
Patungo sa matandang pueblo
itong mga paang nabato-balani
sa tayog ng mga antigong krus
sa Calle Real.
                    Nakatunghay
sa akin ngayon ang katotohanan
na winika ng isang pantas:
ibang hininga itong tumatagos
sa pagkatao tuwing nilalakbay
ang bayan ng iba. Sayang
at walang makakasama.
                    Naghahanap
itong aking palad
ng higpit, ng pisil. At ang dilang
sinusubuan nila ng banyagang palabra
ay nagnanais bumulong
sa iyong pisngi.
                    Kung
naririto ka lamang sana, makikiliti
kang malaman na sa pagbigkas,
ang tanging kinikilala ng Granada
ay ang katagang,
                    te amo,
sinta.

20 Junio 2005
Granada, Nicaragua

:D

Me: Ilan gusto mong hipon for your baon?
P: Apat parang Beatles. (PAUSES) Lima na lang parang The Cure.
Me: (Starts adding chicken nuggets next to prawns).
P: (Protests) Ang liit naman nung isang nugget!
Me: Ang takaw mo, ang taas na nga ng sugar mo!
P: Gawin mo na limang nuggets para lahat sampu, parang Polyphonic Spree.
Me: (Rolls eyeballs.)

Head in a spin.

(Retropost Sept.'08)

Everything melts in this heat.

Even my brain is mush.

The question is: why have I agreed to work on a book on Visual C++?

Well, let it not be said that I ever said no to work.

He he.