Thursday, 26 June 2008


I never appreciated Pasta d' Soia(pancit)till last Wednesday. Its what I cooked for the buffet lunch at Lukie's school for their Kindergarten graduation. I was to bring ready made desserts but my husband told me to cook Riso Cantonese (friedrice) and Pancit. My indecisiveness was thinking that the Italians might not eat these Pinoy foods and the hassles of preparing such is not that easy.

My husband could attest to it that I did the 2 dishes in an hour. 1 kilo of the main ingredients which are rice and noodles made two trays each. I thought its best to take it to school freshly cooked so it won't spoil with the summer heat that had reached 37°C this week.

I did not reset my alarm clock and woke up late when I was suppose to do the cooking earlier. It was "ZOOM" here and there: boil rice, garlic, onions, pot, oil, carrot cubed, carrot strips, chicken, shrimps etc...etc... Husband's help in slicing the veggies were a BIG help or else we would be late for my son's graduation day.

The fried rice was quite saggy but the pancit was perfect and we got to Lukie's school 30 minutes early.

When we took the food inside the room "to join their kind" hehehe... The Italian Mom's, upon knowing that its 'pasta d' soia', gave us the WOW look and one mom can't help but took the fork and ate some of the pancit. It was suppose to be served outside for the picnic lunch.

The frenzy, speedy and panicky cooking paid off. My dish was devoured in seconds and one tray of pancit was missing probably hidden by the organizer mommy's or school staff. Or maybe, eaten inside the room by any of them before lunch. Really paid off when I went to the get us something to eat and saw an old man spooning the tiny pieces (about five strands of noodles)left on the aluminum tray. It was funny but elating to see him doing that.

I was asked for the recipe and was complimented by moms and teachers. Thinking out loud, "duhh, its just pancit, what's the fuss". I also want to hide from this one mom who asked me for the recipe twice and politely told her I will but not now.

So, this will stay in the family's story when someday we will talk about our first born's first graduation day. Its all about "long life".

Why long life? There's this joke by our pony-boy friend, Steve "Piltok", about a prisoner sentenced to death. He was asked what would he want for his last supper and requested, "Pancit!". They asked why of all the food on earth he asked for such. He answered, " 'tapno' long life!"...



Remember my MAMA'S "CAMO TOPS"? It thrived and fed my soul hehehe... The original plan was to make a "diary" for my dear Camote. (Not my 'butoys'(lost translation hehehe...CALVES) that someone once referred to as, "the wrath of the Igorot tribe").

Will someone remind me of sticking to my topic...Okey Camote, I planted 10 shoots last spring but because it was always raining, it died. Its good I left some stems on the mother Camote just to make sure that I'll have seedlings if my first attempt will not "survive".

I planted the remaining shoots last June with the petunias that just grew from a pot I left out last winter. These Petunias wildly sprig every year for me since I planted it four years ago. They just sprout when summer is near and all I have to do is transfer them when they've grown about 2 inches high.

Our neighbor, Manong George told me that the Camote is ready and asked why aren't we taking the leaves. He said we should do so because it will allow more shoots to grow. I told him I didn't know and immediately do what he "advised".

I didnt expect I could "harvest"(hehehe) half a bag while Manong George asked for the stems and took home to plant.

My once abandoned Camote - now in its "glory" with tomatoes, lemon juice and 'bagoong'(fish sauce). Sarap talaga pag fresh!

Sunday, 22 June 2008


Lukie asked me to watch football tonight and tell him in the morning who won. Its a match between Italy and Spain. "Its my, Ale, Filipo and Lore's game", my son said before it started and pleaded to stay till its over. Since its a school day tomorrow, he has to sleep early and I only gave him 30 minutes extension from his usual bed time.

After a hundred times of telling him, "Lukie go wash and brush!"(a cue that his time lapsed), he went to clean up but made sure I'll finish watching the game. Then off to bed - I tucked him in.

MAMA: Lukie, 'ti voglio bene' (I love you very much) (then kissed him good night).

LUKIE: NON-ti voglio Mama (I don't love you Mama).

MAMA: Why?

LUKIE: You make me think of the "baddies".

MAMA: "Baddies" who?

LUKIE: Captain Hook... Now, I can't sleep.

MAMA: You know honey, if there are baddies... you can be scared but Mama will punch and kick them for you.

LUKIE: (smiling now) But, you have no Karate costume like Papa.

MAMA: Amore, Mama could be Supermama, Batmama and Spider mama for you honey. Sleep now, I'll stay with you till you're really-really asleep.

LUKIE: I love you Mama! 'Bouna note'(goodnight).

Ohhmygoshhh...What will Lukie think of me now when I will tell him tomorrow that his Italian football team lost? Its 4-2 in favor of Spain. Yikes! I'm the villain and its my fault why Italy didn't win... Help, I need my Super powers please!

Friday, 20 June 2008


Did it ever occur to you that when you were still under your parent's roof, everything was a burden? You doing what you're told, whether you like it or not - it must and has to be done. Chores that you are suppose to do everyday should have already become a habit. But no, you still consider it as a "punishment" to your youthful life?

Now that - that youth had been of yesterday, looking back at those "impositions", it had become more of the lessons you've learned.

This week's question from Teacher Julie's Greenbucks is - "What valuable lessons have you learned from your father?"... I say, so many and my blog had been constantly writing about it. For this time, I'll just talk about how my father forces us to work.

Having 6 children with only a year or two years gap, we used to have two house helps. To help my dad with in his farm, we also have four to five stay-in workers we call " the boys". Stay-in drivers too to help my Dad in transporting his vegetables and driving the trucks. Other times when my dad has a project for his Contracting business doing rep-raps or school buildings, most of his workers live at home or at my aunt's vacant house near us. Add our adopted cousins who also became household members.

The first three older girls - me(10 years old) and my two sisters(9 and 7) have a list of every day chores posted in the kitchen. A rotation of who is to wash the dishes and clean designated rooms of the house.

I always say it then that IT WAS UNFAIR. We have so many house helps but we are the ones doing the chores for them. Also during planting, weeding and harvesting in our farm. We are there during Saturdays, a day of no school which is more of a play day supposedly. I really find it a big "burden" or more of a "punishment" cast by my father because aside from the "boys", there are day paid workers around we call the "puldiya". I never miss to tell my sisters that indeed, my dad is SO UNFAIR.

He used to tell us, "Learn to work and do things by yourselves because no one will do it for you". Realization does come always and my Dad was right. Had it not been with the learning of working hard, life is MORE UNFAIR if I did not know it earlier.

That makes my never ending picking up of children's toys, cooking 3 different dishes each meal and emptying the washing machine easier. I had my training grounds hahaha!!!


Teacher Julie's third question from GreenBucks asked, "What were your favorite books as a child, specifically in your elementary school years?"

I really didn't have any. I'd rather play than read. But, I remember this cooking book and a medical book my mom use to keep. We were not allowed to touch nor take it out from where it was hidden - my mom and dad's drawer for "important documents." Every time my parents would go to the city, I'll sneak and go read them.

Wednesday, 18 June 2008


I am always awe struck to how amazing different creatures come into existence. Like these sharks called dogfish we just saw from Italy's biggest Aquarium, Sea Life, found in Verona.

Same as full term human babies, it takes nine moths for these sharks to hatch. Into the sea, the mother dogfish lays her eggs and leaves the babies to take care of themselves.

Inside these natural incubator called "mermaid's purse" are the tiny baby shark which is about the size of a finger nail.
At Sea Life, each stage of the baby shark's development were put in different aquariums. I thought they were corals till I've read the descriptive labels. My regret is not to take note of the months corresponding each of these pictures that my husband took.
These tough leathery casing of the mermaid's purse protects the babies from predators. It could also hide the egg from seaweeds with it's camouflaging effect.
The darker the color of the casing means the young is less developed
Then here are the babies out of the mermaid's purse which are still blind on their first days.

Till they grow and become this big.

Monday, 16 June 2008


Gracing My First was written a year ago. Means "A Raconteur's Attempt" may actually exist and tomorrow starts the pursuit(lol) of it's Biennial anniversary.

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Its becoming a cliche when you're getting older to say, "time really flies so fast". Add another banality of - "Seems it was just yesterday" and you really are piling that age. No worries there, you can always say, "wisdom is gained, regardless... hahaha".

Its now safe to say that 365 days "flew so fast" and "seems it was just yesterday" when I was engrossed on what blog title, template and font I shall keep. I could still feel that sense of "I am just another blogger" which is now "vindicated" with: writing and talking to myself is fulfilling specially when I talk about the people and things I love.

With in my first year of blogging, it got me convinced that the first person: I, me and myself - is phasing out the old book of narcism. It gave a new definition to "talking about your self" and had become an effect of "technology enhancement". To say otherwise is to be left behind.

There was an attempt for this page to gain profit but I chickened out when I was to write about jeans I never wore or advertise movies I don't really want to watch. Its also time consuming to work out on maintaining your rank and requires blog hopping which for the moment is impossible when a toddler consumes most of your time.

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Before I go far and lost track of why I am writing this... and all I was suppose to say is THANK YOU... I'm very grateful to all the readers who keep on coming back although you read the same words, same people and my same silly thoughts. Till the next anniversary when we will again say, "time flies so fast" and "seems it was just yesterday".

Saturday, 14 June 2008


Boogie and I are joining Lukie and Dylan in sending this greeting to Lolo Mondax and Lolo Danny. We love and miss you both! Hope you're always well and we pray that we'll soon give you a visit.

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To Boogie and all the fathers who frequent this site: TruBlue, Russel, Dyani's and Miss Buguias' Papas, Jane's and Izma's hubby, my bayaws: Irven, Marlon and Don-don and to all the lovey Dudes of Pinoy Moms Network(Tina, Raq, MegaMoma, Geri, Julie and Analyse. You all enjoy your day.

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To Lukie and Daylan's Papa, you really are a father now. How to spend father's day? Hmmmnnn...a whole day fathering around, tell Mama to have the day's off. That would be fun...for the Mama, that is. Hehehe...

Seriously, Papa dude is a better parent than me. Aside from "his genes"( the Dac's side), he helps my kids in developing their intelligence.

With Lukie, it was Boogie who was patient in teaching him how to read starting at the age of two. I for one thought, they'll learn those stuff when they're ready but when Lukie was able to read well at the age of 4, I was impressed and submitted to my husband's "fathering skills".

While for Dylan - we have this toy cups of different sizes that when put on top of the the other, it becomes a tower. Boogie would always gather them when each piece will be scattered all over the house. One in the kitchen, another under the bed, some in the box and others elsewhere - you'll need to storm. All these just for Dylan to mess up again.

Playing with the kids? Again, Papa Dude does it well specially with the Play Station and PsP. Mama doesn't even know which is the left or the right. With the bike, Mama is scared and can't ride it with Dylan on the baby seat. She can't even race Lukie and it would always irritate his son whe she says, "Lukie, be careful!" or "Don't go fast, its dangerous!". Kill joy, that's what Mama is when it comes to "games for the boys".

Its Father's day so I'm bravely admitting all of these hahaha... On Monday, I might take it back(lol)....To you Boogs, CHEERS and "HORSE" always!... Palabok, Shanghai Lumpia and Hopiang Ube, I'll cook it for you! Oh my, I'm glad Father's Day is only once a year!

Friday, 13 June 2008


Last night, I was surprised to see my blog counter sored high in a span of two hours. Intrigued why my old post - A MUST READ about Tim Russert's ‘Wisdom of Our Fathers had led 30 persons on the said entry, I googled "Tim Russert" and found out he passed two hours earlier. Full story here: NBC's Tim Russert dies at 58.

We join all the people who were inriched by his wisdom. In peace may he rest, we pray.

Remembering the life of Tim Russert

By Michael Gartner, Special to USA TODAY
Michael Gartner was president of NBC News from 1988-1993

He was a senior executive – an inside guy, a go-to guy, an idea guy – when I joined NBC News as president in 1988. He had a background in politics, and a few months after I signed on I asked him to head the Washington bureau. He didn't want to leave New York and thought he was being shoved aside, but he very reluctantly agreed

In Washington, he quickly re-established old contacts – he had worked for Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan, and he seemed to know half the town – and increasingly the morning news conferences at NBC were filled with his inside stories of this, his analyses of that and his predictions of this and that. He was always right.

Tim," I said to him one day a year or so later, "the news call isn't supposed to be more interesting than the news shows. We've got to get across on the air the stuff you're telling us every morning. You should be on the air."

"No way," he said.

Eventually, he agreed to go on the Today show periodically to talk politics with his equally knowledgeable friend Al Hunt, at the time Washington bureau chief for The Wall Street Journal, and, later, as an occasional panelist on the sagging Meet the Press show. But Russert remained mainly an inside guy, an unseen face, a choreographer of coverage.

Finally, I told him he should be – had to be – the moderator of Meet the Press, which wasn't doing well.

"No way," he said again.

We argued. We debated. We fought. He raised objections, I shot them down. At the end, he said, "Look, I can't do it. I'm ugly." "Well, I said with a laugh, I can't argue that one (he had a chubby face that looked like it was made out of Play-Doh) but I'm not looking for a handsome guy, I'm looking for a smart one." Finally, he agreed, and in 1991 he became moderator of the show.

I had some sweatshirts made up with his picture on the front. "Tim Russert," they said, "Not just a pretty face." He was, eventually, amused.

He was made for the job. His training from the Jesuits had sharpened his mind, his lessons from his father had instilled his values, his life in politics had widened his knowledge, and his training as a lawyer had honed his questioning. The show was almost an overnight success, and soon we expanded it to a full hour. Then he — and it — took off.

He used old-fashioned tools in a new-fashioned industry. He used a chalkboard like a coach. He put words – words, of all things! – on the screen to make his point. He was as tough as he was fair, as demanding of himself as he was of his guests. He prepared for each show as if it was a final exam.

Most of all, he was believable. That face turned out to be what my father called "an affidavit face." You looked at him, and you just knew he was telling you the truth.

The show made him rich and famous. I don't know how rich, but a few years ago, when he signed a new, long-term contract with NBC, he called me up to tell me, and he remembered his reluctance about taking the job. He laughed, and he said: "I thank you. My wife thanks you. My son thanks you. And my unborn grandchildren, however many there will be, thank you." It must have been a good deal.

But no matter how rich and famous he became, he always came across on television as a nice guy – who couldn't like a guy who loved Buffalo and who wished his dad Happy Father's Day on the air? – but he was more than nice. He was kind, he was caring, and he was generous

A few years ago, I called him and asked if he'd make a big speech in Des Moines, where I live. It was part of a lecture series at Drake University. I knew he was in great demand, I said, but I asked if he'd do it as a favor for me. "They'll pay you $30,000," I added. He didn't think twice. "I'll do it under one condition," he said. "The $30,000 goes to that program for kids that is Christopher's memorial."

Christopher was one of my sons, and he idolized Tim. Christopher died in 1994, at age 17, from an initial attack of juvenile diabetes. I had left NBC by then, but within hours of Christopher's death the phone rang at home in Des Moines. It was Russert. I was in tears, and he seemed to be, too. He expressed his deep sorrow, and then he said:

"Look, if God had come to you 17 years ago and said, 'I'll make you a bargain. I'll give you a beautiful, wonderful, happy and healthy kid for 17 years, and then I'll take him away, you would have made that deal in a second."

He was right, of course, that was the deal. I just didn't know it.

As it turns out, there was a similar deal – the terms were 58 years – with Tim.
We just didn't know it.

But we – his family, his friends, his guests and his viewers, all of us so enriched by him – would have made it in a second.

Thursday, 12 June 2008


Still toiling to regain my "normal state". I'm glad there are pictures to do the talking. It was a fun get away although the weather was playing on us, for a second it would rain then later the sun would prick us with it's heat. The kids loved their treat specially Lukie who keeps on saying, "Che bella vita!"(What a beautiful life).

Before we went into this trip, Lukie had been anticipating to ride the roller coaster they called "Mammut" at Gardaland. His Papa rode with him but Lukie got scared and cried after. He keeps on saying it was a mistake riding it. Lunch calmed him down and said he doesn't want to get into any rides anymore. We went to watch the Hollywood Dreams musical show and he forgot his 'Mammut' nightmare. Then we went to see the dolphins at PalaBlu and Festival On Ice.

Little Dylan had been a little adult even during the shows and the boat ride into the jungle. How he steals the attention of the crowd, I'll tell it more on my next post.

Friday, 6 June 2008


We joined Teacher Julie's Greenbucks and had our first answer to her weekly question here: MY SAY FOR JULIE'S QUERY . For this week, here's another "timely" spot where my mood would fit :-) .

WEEKLY QUESTION 2: Let's say it IS possible to have that one chance to be another person for a day, who would you choose to be and why?


Quoting Christopher McCandless, "I'll be fine with what I've got.", I love being Lovelyn. But, what's the thrill of joining a game when you don't get to play. So, if I were given the chance to be another person for a day, it would be the same person I quoted above - Christopher McCandless. Why?...because I want to understand fully what it means to be truly FINE WITH WHAT I'VE GOT when people are HURT because of LOVING ME.

Chris was a 23 year old young man who gave up wealth, his promising future, his family and friends in search for real happiness. Wandered and walked embracing his idealism of which freedom has no bounds, not even time, space and anything that modernization dictates a man to have and do.

I believe in what Chris' wants to prove but from a mother's perspective, It will kill me a thousand times. Losing a son and worst, the uncertainty whether he is alive or dead would be unbearable.

Our children will spread their wings and will fly on their own someday. To which direction and how they'll set forth will be "influenced" by the "home" we gave them. What they see and feel from us - our marriage, how we discipline them, how we deal with money and all material things and how we run and keep relationships will neither give security or break them. I hope I am doing the right thing and someday be strong to give them support to what ever they want to decide their life would be.

Read the story here: Into The Wild - The Story of Chris McCandless by Jon Krakauer. It was made into a film directed by Sean Penn: INTO THE WILD .

Then, on July 3—the day after a journal entry that reads, "Family happiness"— Chris tried to go back but was trapped with the raging river and later met the end of his fate. From all his search, he had come to write, "Happiness only real when shared".

Tuesday, 3 June 2008


What's slowing our blogging lately? A lot! "Tolerate" the topic that just popped out as I am writing this. Thoughts brimming of "must do" decided to do the list. Might be of help, as I'm close to getting loony.

1. Permit Of Stay to be retrieved tomorrow.

2. Dylan's smaller and lighter carriage.

3. 4(mine,his and kids)summer wardrobes.

4. Packing for our get away HERE.

5. Confirm our stay HERE.

6. Loads to iron.

7. How to pack Dylan's food to our 2 days TREAT for him and Lukie.

8. Train tickets.

9. First year anniversary of this blog.

10. Lukie's graduation from 'Scoula Materna'.

11. Stuff for dry cleaning.

12. Dad's eye intervention.

13. The usual chores and duties

14. More......and more but I'll stop now before you'll give me that yawn.

15. Pray for me hehehe...

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