Bouna vita, dolce vita. Good life, sweet life. This blog would somehow document how I intend to find joy in simple things no matter how ordinary or insignificant they may be to others.
Thursday 2 January 2014
My recurring dream
My unique cheese board
Saturday 28 December 2013
Learning to Live Beyond Compare
Monday 23 December 2013
Making old friends gold
"She's an old friend ", we often say, but what do we really mean; old as in aged or old having met the person early, early on?
At my advanced age, I remember more friends and classmates from grade school, more than from college. Does memory work that way, or were there just too many distractions and preoccupation in college more that in our younger days?
Thanks to Facebook, a former friend and classmate from kindergarten found me. She now resides in the US but came back for vacation. I invited her for brunch and we had a lot of time catching up. Knowing that I enjoy being with friends, my caring husband treated us to a late lunch, thus prolonging the reunion till mid-afternoon. I had a great time and I feel good.
I haven't seen this friend since we cried, hugged and said farewell at our high school graduation, except briefly seeing her at a Pantranco bus terminal near our province. TodayI learned that for the passed 30 years or so; with the exemption of the last four when she retired and left for the US, we practically moved within the same circles, in fact, we may have even bumped into each other without knowing it, much less remembering how each other look nowadays. While we regret having missed the connection for so many years, still life is good, it gave us the opportunity to re-connect.
Finally, again today, when we hugged and said till next meeting, we did not cry, we smiled.
Pen Pals
Saturday 21 December 2013
My Childhood Christmas
Our family Christmas is a catholic celebration revolving around church festivities. Celebration starts with the Misa De Gallo (dawn masses) on the 16th. Though we had a Buick, we walk with the town folks to church, it is always dark and cold; no street lights in the province, but it was okay, My papa has a big flashlight, same with the other dads.
We never missed a day since no one would play the organ but my mama. I sang with the choir having memorized the hymns in Latin except my favorite which is sang in Spanish during offertory, the "Pastores a Belen "
However, the good part is buying bibingka ( rice cake, baked in a clay bowl heated below and on top ). I used to slip out ahead before the last blessing to beat the other buyers because there's always a long queue. Some days I'd bring an egg and some cheese to add to the rice dough making the bibingka more yummy.
When we get home, it is still dark. I go back to sleep, under the family mosquito net while my mama would address Christmas cards. I recall, it was a lot, she must have sent everyone in town plus the relatives in Manila and in America.
To me our Christmas feast is the best! My papa and mama would invite friends who went to midnight mass. They would dance tango all night; that's when I developed my fascination for the tempo. My mama served turkey and roast beef; at least two salads, cakes, ( my mama baked a lot and at the time, if you bake you are elite, no food channels then). I remember gallons of magnolia tin cans of roasted chestnuts, grapes, apples and oranges as well, but the highlight is torrones and muscatel served after dinner, both imported from Spain. See, even at home, we had bread and wine.
The season does not end after Christmas and the new year for Catholics observe the feast of the Three Kings. My brothers and i would hang back our socks, not stockings and we get money in the morning. How I truly believed Santa Claus and the Three Kings back then. One morning on the feast day I woke up early, look out the window and saw three men walking down the street below. I thought I just missed them a few minutes after they filled our socks.
Oh, what I'll give to live that Christmas again!
Friday 20 December 2013
What's walking got to do with me?
I had to change my eating habits, brown rice, I can tolerate but wheat bread?, taste like cardboard to me. I had to walk as well, before sunrise preferably. I have to tell you, it wasn't easy, old habits are hard to break. I'm no longer used to waking early enough. When my alarm comes off, I bargain for another 5 minutes, then 10 until I sleep again; when I wake up the sun is high and harsh.