Monthly Archives: November 2015
Unforgettable Precious Moments
There is a different kind of joy when you are around a kid like Nate. We are indeed so blessed to have him in our lives.
I taught Nate how to say three with his fingers but he found it hard to raise his three fingers all at the same time so I told him, “two plus one” using two fingers on the left and one on the right. He laughed and when I asked him “how old are you?” he said “three, three, three”. Oo nga naman, it is easier to say them in words, right Nate? Smart boy 🙂
We were both admiring their small aquarium and I asked him if the fish inside have names. He smiled, pointed at each one and said, “Nonna, Josef, Mommy, Daddy, Nathan….” Sometimes, I am simply amazed how he makes me smile.
We were singing happy birthday while he was blowing the spare candle on his birthday cake and he was singing a little louder than we were. A the end of the song, he added, “happy birthday Nathan“. Then he bestowed the usual wet kisses and warm hugs on each of us. Priceless moments of joy.
May you always be blessed little one. You are a wonderful blessing to us all.
Provincial Life
In one of our trips back to the province, I saw this at a neighbor’s house. They make charcoal out of fallen trees destroyed by typhoons. So this is how they make it now. When I was younger, my grandpa would gather tree trunks (they had plenty back then), dig a hole in the ground and arrange the cut wood then put rice husks on top , let them burn all night and gather the newly made charcoal early in the morning. A pail of water is on hand where the charcoal is dipped and let them under the sun to dry for a day or two. We used them to cook on a wide wooden stove. I remember my grandma using charcoal on metal irons. There was no electricity back then and life was simple.
It is so sad that the recent typhoon that hit the province destroyed some of our fruit-bearing trees. It takes years for them to grow and it is hard to replace the robust ones. My mom would gather firewood and neatly arrange them in a pile. Yes, they still use them from time to time especially when there are occasions that need preparations in cooking . It is more convenient to use large pots and pans in preparing several recipes, where firewood is a necessity.
I smiled when I saw this, it reminded me of the times when I was ten and it was a joy to help grandpa arrange the cut stems and branches in a pile like this.
I hope they would plant more trees to replace those which were destroyed by calamities. Trees prevent erosion which in turn prevent floods.
Hope
4am
She wakes
Breathes in the cold air of dawn
The stars shine
A little brighter somehow.
Maybe –
There is still hope
There is hope for the world.
To dream of embracing each other
No race
No color
Just loving arms
Welcoming each other
Home.
When Books Speak
It’s been a while. I’ve been busy catching up on my reading the last few days. I’ve been hooked on Christmas and winter novellas by different authors. It’s nice to go back in history just a bit and read stories set in the 19th century. It’s nice to know how people lived and celebrated Christmas long ago. It makes you imagine December mornings wrapped in white while you watch from your window sipping a hot cup of tea or coffee. It makes you imagine those early nights sitting by the fire and enjoying a good book. The allure of reading, the joy of discovering new authors, the beauty of immersing yourself in a completely different world and that smile on your face once you reach the end and you want more.
I recently discovered a new poet (she’s new in my list). Lang Leav is a contemporary author but I haven’t heard of her till now. Her book Memories is out in the market and I like her simple but profound writing style. It’s a collection of poetry and prose but narrowed to memories and heart breaks. I can’t help but compare her works with some of my favorite authors, Mary Oliver or Rod McKuen or maybe it’s because this is my first time to read her words.
Ah yes, I tried reading other genre, mystery and ghost stories, a nice change from my chick lit and YA books. I am on my second book on the Tradd Street series by Karen White. Don’t laugh but I don’t read them at night. We have these two sliding glass doors in our cabinet and sometimes I am afraid to take a look. Scaring yourself silly while reading but it adds to the thrill of turning the pages. Though they are completely different from Stephen King’s Shining or Pet Sematary, they are just as engrossing.
My TBR list is growing but at least I have more than enough to tide me over until next year. And I have a long list of favorite books. What’s yours?
Alone
You don’t want to hear the story
of my life, and anyway
I don’t want to tell it, I want to listento the enormous waterfalls of the sun.
And anyway it’s the same old story – – –
a few people just trying,
one way or another,
to survive….mary oliver
I’ve always been touched by Mary Oliver’s words every time I read her poems. For those who are followers to my earlier blog, you might have noticed that I’ve quoted her words now and then and there are times when I am simply amazed how she could aptly describe such feelings that I want to put into words too. I can imagine a world where you find peace of mind, happiness and sense of belonging even when you’re alone.
In one of our road trips in Tanay, Rizal, I found these pretty rattan hammocks suspended between mahogany trees in one corner of the vast gardens of Regina Rica, a place of prayer and worship where nature brings you to a world of peace and solace. Imagine a few hours of silence while quietly swinging in the hammock with the afternoon breeze gently playing with your hair.
Alone with nature, thinking of what life was and how you wanted it to be, thinking of why sometimes things happen that makes you sad, just like some of those people you meet on the road of life with sad smiles on their faces. The smiles tell such pain they feel. And she continues:
And you know
what a smile means,
don’t you?I wanted the past to go away, I wanted
to leave it, like another country; I wanted
my life to close, and open
like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song
where it falls
down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery;
I wanted
to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know,whoever I was, I was
alive
for a little while…
I could truly relate, I could feel what she’s trying to say. I know what pain is and for a while there, the tears gently flow while I read her words and takes the lesson to heart, surviving amidst this busy cosmos called life.
He Calls Me Nonna
How can you even know how precious your baby is until you feel the soft touch of his fingers on your face, the complete trust he has in you as you hold his hands and take a step or two, the smile on his face as he recognizes your voice, the warm embrace, the wet kisses on your face, the moments you pick him up and he snuggle close to you, safe and warm in your arms. It’s the unspeakable happiness he shows when you are around and the inexpressible love that makes him so precious, so loved, so treasured.
He is turning three in a few days, a lovable and smart kid. Time flies…too soon.
I always look forward to the days when they visit me and Nate’s shouts of “I love you Nonna”. A warm hug, a tight embrace, a wet kiss on the cheeks, what more could one ask for.
Serenity
The very first time I visited the province of Zambales (more than three decades ago) I was surprised to see those imposing mountain ranges along the highway. It was like when you look up, you could almost touch the summit. When I came back some years later, San Antonio was even lovelier than I remember. Behind these mountains is the famous Anawangin Cove which is a frequent destination by locals and tourists alike. it faces the South China Sea.
I love the colors of blues and greens blending well together. The sweet face of serenity warms the heart.
Touches Of Beauty
Don’t you dream sometimes of living in a place where all you see is the beauty of nature, unhampered by tall buildings and malls in every corner? Don’t you dream sometimes of seeing a vast field of verdant greens as far as your eyes could see without worrying about pollution which is a constant in city life? Don’t you dream sometimes of being in a place where all you hear are bird songs and cows mooing in a field or maybe the sound of a rooster crowing? The latter is so regular very early in the morning that you won’t need an alarm clock to wake you up 🙂
I do.
Life in the metropolis is a bit stressful at times. You become a clock-watcher, you worry about traffic, you worry about everything there is to worry about. And when the day ends, you wonder if there is something left undone and the ritual begins as soon as your eyes open the very next day. You dream of spending a few days in a quiet place, somewhere you can recharge, somewhere you can be yourself , somewhere where life is a little laid-back. It is a blessing to take an early morning walk and let the day takes it course for a change. Ralph Waldo Emerson was right when he said: “Nature never hurries. Atom by atom, little by little she achieves her work.”
Clouds
I am always enthralled and fascinated by every cloud formation that I see. I could not count the times when I looked up and wished I had a camera to record every movement. The sky remains a big canvas where the most mysterious drawings materialize…clouds.
O Cloud,
You make me feel anxious when you darken the sky
but there is still that feeling of happiness
when I see you just passing through,
like bright cotton candies, mysterious figures that brighten my world
– for a few moments, for a day, for eternity.
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