immanence

ikea food

2012-01-11T23:41:00.000-08:00

I don't mind it at all. Imo and I had breakfast there today and he was utterly unhappy with his "Swedish pancakes" with strawberry compote, whereas I had no complaints about my spinach and cheese crepes and smoked salmon plate. (All for $12, by the way. And that includes two coffees.)

I think it's funny that Ikea food puts Imo in a really bad mood (or maybe it was my impulse-buying, but, eh). I happen to like Ikea food. The same way I happen to like hospital food and airplane food. Is that gross? I mean I know bad food; I can tell what bad food is. It's just that there's something about this type of cafeteria food that's comforting to me. Also, every time I eat at Ikea, I remember this story that my dad used to tell me about the time he spent at the Institute of Social Studies in The Hague. The food was so bland, he said -- so bland in fact that one of the other fellows, who was Thai, had taken to carrying little jars of spices with him to the mess hall each time they had to go there for meals. I love this little anecdote told by Daddy. I could totally imagine his Thai friend, sneakily seasoning the food on his plate. Actually, when I saw this photo (from Daddy's collection of slides), I couldn't help but wonder: was this the mess hall where Daddy and his Thai friend ate bland Dutch food? (And could that be his Thai friend? Is he hiding his bottles of exotic spices on his lap under the table?)

I am finding it hard to believe that one wouldn't enjoy the food on that table. The milk in those bottles look extra creamy and refreshing to me. And how lovely that light from the windows! Then again, maybe that's just me, lover of Ikea food.

scored some roses today!

2012-01-10T16:23:00.000-08:00

I got lucky and chanced upon the neighbor's gardener trimming their rose bushes this morning. I asked if I could have the roses he had clipped off and he gladly gave them to me. I couldn't help but skip happily back home!

partying roaring-20's-style

2012-01-02T02:56:00.000-08:00

It was the perfect way to end the crazy year, and to welcome this new one.

daddy and his hi-fi

2011-12-17T20:41:00.000-08:00

Here is a photo* I have never seen before of Daddy, taken sometime in the 1960's, in his clinic (growing up, we called this room the "office" in the old San Dionisio house, before that, I heard it was Lolo Pio's "chess room"), posing in front of the hi-fi stereo he had told me so much about when I was a kid. There are so many details in the photo that I love -- other than the cool stereo cabinet, of course -- such as the fact that the windows didn't yet have those (hideous, in my opinion) iron grills; the medicine cabinet was in fact an actual medicine cabinet (I had always only seen it used as a china display cabinet); and that Daddy is wearing such fashionable shoes! If I am not mistaken, this stereo cabinet was still in the house when we lived there, though it was repurposed into a simple (very midcentury modern!) credenza. That turntable lived in his closet for a time until it was no longer there.

*Awesome vintage photo found by my cousin, Oton Santiago. Thank you so much for sharing it, Kuya Oton!

quotes and a photo

2011-12-10T00:08:00.001-08:00

"I'd much rather be a little crazy trying to keep it orderly than a lot of crazy living in chaos."
- Jennifer Altman, on keeping house

"Ang lamang lang nila sa 'tin, matagal na silang nakatira dito."
- Imo, on our immigrant struggles

"So how do you guys like living here? It's so bourgeois."
- Nyan, on South Pasadena

My girls, riding their scooters, in our bourgeois neighborhood.

making coffee with yumi

2011-12-08T21:39:00.001-08:00

She loves the manual coffee mill. It turns out that manually grinding beans with this awesome contraption is not at all so hard. It takes time, but a four year old can do it, as you can see, and she'll gladly volunteer to do it.

She also loves the Chemex. Loves to watch me pour the water on the coffee grounds, and see the coffee drip from the filter.

Funny how the kids take interest in these little rituals. Come to think of it, as a child, I was quite taken with my dad's little ritual of scooping Taster's Choice, Coffeemate and sugar into a cup of steaming hot water, setting down that cup on a saucer on a table while he proceeded to type or paint or build. That coffee smelled so good. And when he wasn't looking, I would always steal sips from it. My siblings stole sips too. And that was what got us started on this serious coffee love. (Though we won't drink instant coffee now if we had a choice. Then again, who would drink instant coffee if they had a choice? Who would drink Starbucks if they had a choice? Haha, so I'm a snob.) I won't be surprised if my kids grew up loving coffee too. Actually I wonder if they haven't already started taking sips of coffee behind my back.

All the coffee-making this morning made Yumi want to have her own cup... of hot chocolate.

after the windstorm

2011-12-03T15:21:00.001-08:00

We went to Garfield Park yesterday. We counted six downed trees, including our favorite one that was close to the playground and gazebos, the one we would always sit under on our visits. I thought it was really sad, to have so many trees gone in a park that we loved precisely because of how lush it was with trees and grass. But the children didn't seem to mind -- in fact, it seemed to me that the uprooted trees got some extra love that day, if only for the last time.

(More pictures are here, and here of the wreckage around the neighborhood. And a level-headed take on the sadness over the loss of our trees is here.)

It's strange how... normal everything seemed, despite the fact that South Pas had actually declared a state of emergency on Thursday. Coming from the Philippines, I guess I just expected chaos. As of yesterday, two-thirds of the city still didn't have power; there was tree destruction everywhere and damage to property. But neighbors were helping each other clear out debris, cars were taking orderly turns at intersections where the traffic lights were out, local business owners were offering residents free cold storage and recharging stations, there was shelter being offered at the senior center and library. People are continuing to work this weekend to restore power and to clean up the roads, and I feel confident that things will really get back to normal soon. I don't want to romanticize about the conditions that allow a community to work, but I must say that it is so refreshing to see a community at work.

bagyong first world

2011-12-01T19:05:00.001-08:00

It felt familiar, the lying awake in the middle of the night with the power out, the wind howling, the roof and the windows rattling. Except there were also the sounds of car alarms going off, and firefighter/police sirens down the street. There neither was rain nor mosquitoes, but still I couldn't sleep. All the noises startled me. And though I didn't need to worry about leaky roofs or the house flooding, I did worry about our magnolia tree being uprooted.

When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed that the world was ending. That Imo and I were trying to get to our kids, but that the land which we were on broke off from the rest of the Philippines (like the Philippines wasn't already made up of separate islands). Then there was a big flood, and somehow we found our kids, and we were holding each other's hands and we were sinking underwater. I remember the panic and then the calm.

I've had recurring dreams about water since I was a teenager: water overflowing (from toilets to tsunamis) and me drowning in it. And always, there is peace when I drown in my dream. Also, the dream was no surprise because a few nights ago, Imo and I saw Melancholia. He fell asleep in the middle of it; I was completely drawn in. That movie was so intense, I kept thinking about it for days. I would think about it even in the least likely of places, like in the parking lot of Yumi's preschool, at the sight of the gingko tree whose leaves had all turned yellow.

(Oh I hope last night's wind spared that gingko tree outside Yumi's classroom!)

I woke up to see that the power was back on. It was probably around 4 a.m. I turned out the lights and I fell back asleep, only to be woken up by the alarm on my phone, which had apparently already gone off thrice that morning (in 15-minute intervals) because when I looked it was already 7:48 a.m. and the kids were going to be late for school.

It was a mad scramble to get ready. There was no time for breakfast. The ground outside was covered with leaves and other tree parts. The magnolia tree was bald but it was still standing! Two trees had fallen on Beech Street and I had to take a detour. There were more leaves and branches and broken trees everywhere -- on the street and the sidewalk, on people's yards, hanging from electric wires. (Tree massacre, Joms called it.)

School would later be officially cancelled, but only after I ended up taking the kids back home with me anyway this morning. There was traffic and confusion in front of the school when we got there at 8:15, with teachers stopping cars to tell parents that officially school was open but that there was no electricity and water in the building; I decided to take my kids back home. Kat and Olivia came by (they had no electricity in their apartment). And we all hung out at our apartment (where luckily there was electricity), watched movies, had Dutch pancake for breakfast, and fried rice/leftovers/grilled cheese for lunch. Asha got to grind coffee beans in my new coffee mill (which would've been really useful had there still been no power).

I wondered about all the homes that still didn't have power and about all the cleanup that had to be done around the city. Kat said, This is the problem with living in a city so full of trees! And I said, Better flying branches than flying yero and billboards.

It's funny the things we forget we were used to.

It's funny the things that are the same. Such as Nacho rejoicing when he learned that school will be closed again tomorrow.

laundry day thought

2011-11-22T12:48:00.001-08:00

I wonder if it has anything to do with getting/being older that my emotional status quo, underlying all my small joys, has been a kind of quiet, peaceful sadness.

kitchen action

2011-11-15T16:30:00.000-08:00

I got me some renewed cooking (and baking) energy. I don't know from where. Before the past couple of weeks, I had zero motivation to cook at home, so this is a good thing. Though, I notice that I go through phases of wanting to cook and not wanting to cook -- I have sort of a culinary bipolar disorder thing going on. Go figure.

Anyway, here's all the action my kitchen has been seeing this week:
(I've linked some of these to the recipes I followed. The rest, I improvised.)

Dutch babies

Broiled rosemary chicken fillets + basmati and wild rice pilaf + arugula salad

Stovetop-grilled all-beef sausages + fire-roasted veggies with balsamic butter (from frozen, but brilliant nonetheless)

Banana cake

Hainanese chicken (with accompanying garlic rice, soup and dipping sauce)

Soba noodle soup (with vegetables, mushrooms, fish cake and hard boiled egg)

Black beans, salsa, poached eggs on rice (inspired by Heirloom)

Chicken tinola

Savory whole wheat crepes with fresh mozarella, tomatoes, garlic and red pepper flakes

Fried fish fillets with a cornmeal crust + insalata caprese + brown rice

Right now, there's bread baking in the oven, and spaghetti meat sauce waiting to be prepared for dinner. I'm on a roll.

wednesday morning

2011-11-09T13:16:00.000-08:00

Imo and I had breakfast at Heirloom. I had the best latte ever, and a Hearty Breakfast (two poached eggs, black beans, brown rice, cheese, salsa and sour cream, and toast) -- delicious!!! We sat outside and talked about -- goodness, I forgot what we talked about. But at the table next to ours, there was a middle-aged couple and their dog, and I couldn't help but think that was going to be us in fifteen years, minus dog (or, well, who knows, with dog), still having leisurely weekday breakfast dates while the kids are in school.

preppy boy imo walking to the car

After breakfast, we went to the Salvation Army antique store and bought old records. We found Genesis and Heart albums (among a few others), which amused the heck out of Imo, who, it appears to me, is on an eighties music trip. As soon as we got home, he put the records on and grinned while listening to In Too Deep, and then, Never. So funny.

We've been getting beautiful fall weather: sunny and cool. There's still a lot of green but the maple trees are starting to turn red and the gingko trees yellow. I love this time of year.

hanging out with our favorite neighbors

2011-11-05T00:09:00.000-07:00

Or, as Nacho's friend Ian would say, our people. This afternoon, at Buster's.

We're finally starting to get some fall weather around here too.

baking with vegetables

2011-11-04T00:16:00.000-07:00

I use the term "vegetable" loosely here. I am actually referring to beets and pumpkins. Recently, I made a beet cake (for Nacho's birthday) and pumpkin cupcakes (for Halloween). And I am totally sold on incorporating veggies in one's baked goods. They make them so soft and moist. Not to mention, healthier. (Well, kind of. You know, you'd like to think. Haha!)

There's but a fourth of a cup of Ghirardelli bittersweet chocolate chips in this cake, and most of it is pureed beets, but my oh my.

The recipe is here. I must say, it was the really pretty video that convinced me to give it a try. But, just to let you know, that beet cake totally deserved all that how-to-make prettiness. (Go on and watch it!)

A photo of the pumpkin cupcake frosted (and half-eaten by me) is here. This cupcake was another winner! The recipe called for canned pureed pumpkins, which I didn't have. What I did have were plenty of pumpkins around the house as Halloween decor, so I went ahead and made fresh pumpkin puree out of one of them. (Yumi was a little horrified. She is attached to her baby pumpkins. Lumpy Grumpy in particular -- which isn't a pumpkin, actually, but a gourd. And it is truly lumpy and grumpy. {It makes sense: wouldn't you be grumpy too if you were lumpy?} These children of mine are so funny and strange.) Anyway, the cupcakes turned out so good, let me tell you now that another one of them pumpkins in this house is about to meet its fate.

we had a good saturday

2011-10-29T01:41:00.000-07:00

All fell into place today, if only for today.

melancholy

2011-10-27T22:58:00.000-07:00

once again, the drudgery is getting to me. i go through cycles. and i don't mean just the menstrual kind -- though i wish that that is what's behind this. sigh. i slept in today (imo drove nacho and asha to school, poor kids whom i didn't even get up to pack lunches for). then, poor yumi, whom i did get up for a minute to fix lunch for, which was cereal and milk, then i went back to bed. when i finally decided to get out of bed and put on my face, there wasn't time to pause, even to have a quick lunch. there were errands to run, homework (a major project, can i say), soccer practice, dinner to cook, tidying up, more homework, more tidying up. all by my lonesome. i am so tired. in spite of all the sleep i just got. plus i haven't even done any volunteer work at the kids' schools. or gone to pilates. or cleaned the house. i kick myself and kick myself. i ought to be more thankful, i tell myself. after everything we've been through, i know too well how transient everything is. the only thing that kept me going today was the thought of fixing myself a cup of coffee. and now that the children are in bed, it's time.

but first, a couple of happy things:

i found a laura nyro record at the thrift store a few days ago. the album "it's gonna take a miracle." i gasped. i also maybe squealed a little. i love laura nyro.

i am now officially in love with fiore. their sandwiches and their cafe latte are divine. thank goodness it's just right next door to yumi's preschool. maybe i will treat myself and yumi to some of their food again tomorrow (i've gone twice this week already). yes, i think that will make up for the sad cereal i fed her for lunch today.

and some photos from the past weekend --

could they be magic mushrooms?

pumpkins

2011-10-23T15:07:00.000-07:00

We brought the kids to a pumpkin festival at Lombardi Ranch yesterday. It was 92 degrees outside, but since there wasn't going to be another chance for us to go, we went anyway. (Halloween is next week, and we wanted the kids to at least have a week's worth of celebrating with pumpkins/Jack O'Lanterns around the house.) The whole experience would've been more, um, authentic if it wasn't so hot ("Which is why I can't imagine Christmas in Australia!" Kat was saying) but such is fall in SoCal!

Anyway, I am loving these fall harvest traditions, if only for the reason that they are so exotic to me. Pumpkin patches, sunflower and corn mazes, wagon hayrides. Delightful stuff! We all got to eat corn on the cob and caramel apples while listening to live country music; the children, including Olivia, chose pumpkins to bring home; Imo got to wheel them (the pumpkins, not the children) in a wooden cart; I totally knocked myself out taking pictures.

joshua tree notes

2011-10-17T18:40:00.000-07:00

The Joshua tree, which is a kind of yucca plant, is a very prickly thing. Pricklier than one would expect. I got pricked twice on the scalp. It really hurt. Oh but what a curiously beautiful plant it is! Just like the park that was named after it.

Desert camping is different from regular camping in terms of: the lack of shade (though the temperature was moderate this weekend), the lack of regular trees from which you can get branches to use for roasting marshmallows, and the presence of killer bees, huge red ants, and camouflaging lizards, and woodrats. Also quails (that can fly, apparently).

"So, Nacho, remember: don't run if you see a coyote."
"Why not? Road Runner runs when it sees Wile E. Coyote."
"Kuya," says his Ninong Jomar, "if you see a coyote and it's carrying an Acme dynamite, then, yes, you can go ahead and run."
We laugh at Nacho until I ask: "And what kind of animal is Road Runner? An ostrich?"

The sound of howling coyotes at 4:30 a.m. is terrifying and awesome at the same time.

So, yes, other than the above mentioned animals, there also were coyotes and roadrunners (which are not ostriches).

Our campsite neighbors were musicians. They had guitars and a double bass. A double bass! In the desert! On our first night, we listened to live music. It was part rock and roll, part folk, part mariachi. They played an entire set, while we sat around our campfire, drinking cold beers/hot coffee. It brought a whole new level of enjoyment to roughing it in the outdoors! (Our luck with camping neighbors have really turned around since our last trip!)

Huge rocks and rock formations are ideal for climbing on and exploring in (the children and Brian certainly thought so), and are made even more interesting by the fact that these can also take on the shape of skulls, dinosaur heads, armadillos, and Baby Bears.

The kids were fantastic hikers. Even Olivia, who invented "tandem" hiking (i.e. she was carried, haha).

We had an amazing time! (I took more than 600 photos! 10% of them are here.)

all talk

2011-10-12T11:52:00.000-07:00

It's funny how when someone asks me what I've been up to, my mind draws a blank. What do I do really other than go about the usual tasks of keeping house, running errands, and minding the children? And on my "free" time, I... putter. I putter: I drink coffee, I read blogs (see right margin), I ogle Etsy and Anthropologie, I try to write, I take pictures. It's ironic that now that I actually have "free" time, I am less inclined to sew or bake or volunteer or exercise or do some serious reading.

Ugh. I think I have rested enough. I mean, really, why am I so exhausted?? It's the staying up late, drinking too much coffee, and having to wake up early to pack lunches, make breakfast, get the kids ready for school. But if it's any consolation (to me), I have started to ease into my daily routines, and I love that sense of order and efficiency. But still. There are women who do all these things and work full-time. I have no excuse. It's time to take on a new project. It's time to start being productive. I've been putting off sewing some clothes. A bunch of clothes. Pajamas for the girls. A retro top for me (I got this groovy vintage pattern from Etsy a while back). And also a bunch of patchwork blankets that need hand-tying. I need to start baking more bread, especially because I have two relatively new bread-making books -- The Bread Baker's Apprentice and Artisan Breads Everyday -- that I haven't tried a single recipe from. I also need to take this food styling and photography business more seriously (in both the creative and financial aspects of it). Also, I feel this almost desperate need to work on my, um, intellect (which I feel is deteriorating) by actually reading and having conversations about things -- politics! poetry! critical theory! anything! other than this, the minutiae of everyday life.

Sigh. So much to do, so much time, so little motivation.

Some unrelated photos taken with the film camera --

a little experiment

2011-10-09T01:20:00.000-07:00

with film and digital. It's not the most scientific (because I am not the most scientific -- in fact, my dad, the doctor, used to tell me that in exasperation), but I just wanted to see how they would differ. There is a certain warmth and richness to film. (But I still love my trusty digital camera, though!) What do you think?

pot roast --

coffee --

how cool is baby bear?

2011-10-07T11:03:00.000-07:00

*Patti Smith, and John Lennon & Paul McCartney photos from Retronaut.

it's raining today

2011-10-05T12:13:00.000-07:00

I was supposed to go to pilates but I didn't. God, I will take any excuse not to go to pilates. Which makes me feel bad. We signed up Yumi for an extra two hours in preschool so that I can go to pilates, but here I am, having my morning cup of coffee in front of the computer with no intention to go. I also need to go to the grocery store, but I am having second thoughts about that also. I am eating butter and jam on naan because we are out of plain bread, among many other things. (It's an interesting combination of creamy and fruity sweet with hints of curry. Hm.)

The idea of going out in this weather does not appeal to me at all. I was wearing a corduroy coat and peep-toe flats when I dropped off Yumi at school this morning, for chrissakes, and I was soaked. Just me, though. And I knew that the rain was pretty heavy (by southern California standards). In fact, I had equipped all three children with the proper shoes, jackets, and an umbrella (Yumi) before stepping out of the house, and had asked Imo to take his car instead of the train to work today. But I got myself sufficiently soaked so that I can say, "Nope, not a good day for pilates."

It is, however, a perfect day to stay at home. And take pictures. And write. And drink coffee (naan all gone now). And listen to Alexi Murdoch (on the iPod this time).

Steve Jobs passed away today. I did not expect to be saddened so deeply by this. Rest in peace, Mr. Jobs. And thank you.

more analog love

2011-10-04T13:17:00.000-07:00

Imo recently got a turntable and we've been having a blast thrifting for old records and listening to them at home. I realize that when it comes to music, this is just my thing. I love old music and I love that it takes on an actual physical form. I am really hopelessly old-fashioned this way. I don't care much for the iPod, or the iTunes on my computer, and I realize that it's because that seemingly unending list of mp3s overwhelms me. I like being able to thumb through albums (dust and all) and to play a record with only 4 or 5 songs on one side. I like the silence that comes at the end of those songs that signals me to walk up to the record player to flip the record on to Side B. I know that when we were listening to cassette tapes, auto-reverse was invented to do away with this inconvenience, then there was the CD that you could play on repeat, then there was the CD changer.... But after all this technology, I am more than glad to pay attention to my music and flip the record when it needs flipping. There is a kind of ritual involved here, and it's comforting. I love that at the end of the day, Imo and I have taken to sitting in the living room together to listen to music, which was something we never did around the iPod dock.

Joms says that it's just my imagination, but vinyl sounds better to me. Fuller, more alive. That first night Imo set up the stereo and played Joni Mitchell's Ladies of the Canyon (which, together with her albums, Court and Spark and Mingus, was among our first great finds at the Salvation Army antique store), the hairs on my arms stood on end and I wanted to bawl. The record itself was older than me, but it sounded so crisp and clear and beautiful (someone had obviously taken good care of it before parting with it and moving on to a more modern format, I suppose). It was a different experience all together. In fact, I don't really mind even when the records are in less than perfect condition, such as the Ella Fitzgerald 180-gram double-vinyl that we found at the PCC Flea Market last Sunday (for 5 bucks!). The faint little crackles are a reminder to me of the life of that music, the years it has survived, the number of times people have listened to it. There's a tangible sense of connection there.

Apparently, I am also hopelessly sentimental this way.

(But that's not big news. Haha. I wonder when I will start feeling this way about CD's. Or if I ever will. I know that I am nostalgic for mix tapes -- the ones that Lille used to make for me in high school, the ones that I made for the boys I liked, and the ones the boys I liked, when I was lucky, made for me. Oh how I miss those!)

Anyway, I just wanted to say that I am really excited about this new thing that Imo and I share, and that we share with the kids as well. They are amazed that music plays out of a plastic disc with grooves when a needle touches it. (Heck, even I am amazed.) Nacho (who once said, "THIS IS THE BIGGEST CD I HAVE EVER SEEN!" upon the discovery of a vinyl record when he was four) seems to take the most interest -- though he chooses to play the new music (we have a few: Fleet Foxes, Bon Iver, the Postal Service), I'm sure it won't be long till he or his sisters discover The Clash and Bob Dylan and John Coltrane. Or even the Carpenters or the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack or Madonna's Like a Virgin. (Haha!)

conversations with yumi

2011-10-03T13:46:00.000-07:00

Over lunch today --

"Mommy, is Belle a bride?"
"Well... she was a bride when she married the Beast."
"When the Beast became a prince he didn't have a name. We don't know the princes' names. The princes don't have names."
"You know, you're right." (I realized she was right!) "Except for Prince Eric, the little mermaid's prince."
"Oh yeah."

Princess Asha and Princess Yumi

***

"I'm not afraid of Large Marge anymore, Mommy. I got used to it."
"When I was a kid, I was afraid of Large Marge."
"Really? Kuya played it over and over, so I got used to it."
(I wonder if she is only trying to convince herself. Large Marge is pretty terrifying.)

Large Marge

***

"Where did Baby Bear come from?"
"The hospital."
"The hospital?? From her mommy's tummy?"
"From the gift shop at the hospital when you were born."
"Oh. But in Baby Bear Land, she came from her Yellow Mommy Bear's tummy."
"I see."
"Baby Bear has a thread. Is she going to..." (She avoids the word "die.") "... break?"
"She won't break if you're gentle with her."
"I am gentle with her. It's Kuya who's not."
"Well, you have to take care of Baby Bear."
"I do take care of her." She hugs Baby Bear, then sets her down on the dining table. "Look at Baby Bear's tummy. She ate a lot of rice."

*all artwork by Yumi

a nine-year-old in the house

2011-09-30T23:30:00.000-07:00

Nacho is now nine. He has big feet, and an even bigger appetite. He can be counted on to make his bed in the morning, cook his own ramen when he is hungry, look after his sisters under certain circumstances, and be the voice of calm and reason sometimes when I lose my head. I am sure that he has many frustrations (number one of which is being unable to play Halo Reach because I forbid it), but he will listen, even when I shout, or even when it's over his head such as when his Tito Brian told him, "It's called capitalism, Nacho, and we must destroy it." He is sensitive and self-aware, sometimes to the point of melodrama (or comedy!): "Please stop torturing her, Mommy!" "I feel so guilty!" "I don't want Asha to die!" He has an uncanny ability to remember and put together (sometimes seemingly unrelated) information, and is beginning to look more and more like Imo. Still, it is hard to believe that he is nine. I remember like it was yesterday his first few weeks as a baby and how terrified I was to be a mother (at 25!) and to realize that there was no turning back now. Well, nine years have gone by and I am happy to report that nothing has given me more joy than to be a mother and to watch this boy (and his sisters) grow up.

And I am still 25. Hahaha.

***

In lieu of a birthday party, he and his best buddies went bowling. With us, of course :)

the urge for writing

2011-09-28T17:32:00.000-07:00

I think I may have lost the urge to write fiction. It used to come so naturally: I would see things or hear things and feel compelled to work them into stories somehow. These days, when I notice something interesting, I am fairly content to take a picture, or post a status update on Facebook (which I do begrudgingly, because, god, how I hate Facebook and how it has taken over my life!) It is ironic that I admit this to myself now that we've recently joined (or formed) a group of Filipino-American writers here in SoCal. Or maybe this is just a manifestation of my fear of having to write again. I haven't written a short story in ten years.

What I do have the urge to write are these blog entries. I go about my day composing sentences in my head. Except they do not always get written. Not because I do not have the time. I spend a great deal of time in front of my computer, looking at an empty new blog post page, trying to get something down. The reason nothing gets written -- or, more aptly, published -- is that many times I sound like a ditz. And then I start to feel restless because I really wanted to write something but didn't. I find that when I write, I write for myself, for my own sake, and if that sounds self-absorbed, it's because it is, and I really should stop pretending to not be self-absorbed by not writing because the fact remains, and not writing just makes me go crazy. Maybe someday these ramblings will be more than the ramblings of a suburban housewife. (That's what I am, right? I was going to put in "immigrant," but I find that these days my struggles are more bourgeois in nature than they are "immigrant." Ha.) Maybe they will have a little more significance than a mere record of my small domestic victories (and failures). Or a record of my feeble thoughts.

Wait, hang on a second. My thoughts are not really feeble. And I'm not really just all about domesticity (although that makes up a huge part of who I am right now, I guess I can't help it). It's just that these are the things I feel I can write about here. These are the things I feel like writing about. Everything else (like what I think of this book and its Filipino author and this bit of lip service on her blog {which I stumbled upon via Facebook, where else}, or what I have to say about this, or how much I appreciate this, or how this makes me curious and hopeful vis-à-vis how strongly I feel about this) gets me so worked up, I can barely speak.

Anyway, so I am writing here. I don't feel like writing stories, nor do I feel able to write lucidly about bigger things that matter beyond my home. (I have opinions, though! And I do wish I had someone to talk to about them, but alas, I usually only have Yumi to talk to and today's conversation in the car went something like this: "Guess what, Yums." "What?" "I went to pilates today!" "Good job, Mommy. Now you won't have a fluffy tummy anymore!" And then a few minutes later, completely out of the blue: "Large Marge looks like Michael Jackson." "Large Marge looks like Michael Jackson???" "Yes, Mommy. They have the same hair." {Ah, Yumi and her relationship with Michael Jackson.}) But I always feel like writing here, even when I have nothing important to say, really. I am sorry if I sometimes sound shallow (never narrow, though, I hope), but I've been holding back (see my long periods of absence?) but I need to write. So I will. I'm back.

a sexy cake

2011-09-26T22:12:00.000-07:00

Red wine chocolate cake is the sexiest cake I've ever heard of.

Until I made it and it wasn't. (I seem to be on a baking fail roll here, did you notice?)

"How is it?" I eagerly asked Imo.

He looked at me with a mixture of unease and concern. "Mahal kita, Sunantha," was all that he said.

Half the cake ended up in the trash. I only kept eating it because I thought that perhaps one could acquire the taste for something that resembled stale, crumbly, overly yeasty bread, or a Christmas fruit cake gone horribly wrong. (Nope, one couldn't.) I had to face the fact that if you are going to make a red wine chocolate cake, you do not scrimp on the red wine, nor the chocolate. Duh. I should've opted for a mid-priced bottle, instead of a cheap one. Also, maybe a pinot noir or cabernet would've paired better with chocolate than a shiraz. In addition, I should've used the Dutch-processed cocoa that the recipe called for, and not the store-brand unsweetened cocoa powder from Trader Joe's. I mean, god, what was I thinking?

Still, I continue to fantasize about the idea of this cake. I know now that it is not a forgiving recipe, but if done right, I know that it has the potential to be mind-blowing. I mean, it's red wine and chocolate in cake form. Okay, maybe the combination seems a little odd. But you have to admit it sounds... sexy. And sexy cannot be wrong. I must try again.

along highway 1

2011-09-08T16:20:00.000-07:00

I have no words.

we find a hidden beach

2011-09-07T22:55:00.000-07:00

Well, it wasn't too hidden, because the GPS led us there without any trouble. But it was a beach that was accessible only by a 2-mile-long, narrow, unmarked turnoff from the Pacific Coast Highway, which we took on our drive back from the Bay Area this weekend. (There will have to be another post on that trip!) Imo and I decided to go on a little adventure by taking the long, scenic route home, and stopping by Pfeiffer Beach in Big Sur on the way. It was late in the afternoon, but we were completely fine with a 7-hour drive plus a stop-over, and getting home to LA at past one a.m., if it meant being able to see spectacular views of the coast and setting foot in Big Sur where we've always wanted to go.

The turnoff is called Sycamore Canyon Road, but we knew that there would be no signs leading us to it, and that it was going to be a really sharp right from the highway so we were on the lookout. Imo was worried that the road would be a bumpy, dusty road to the beach. What we found, though, was a one-lane road that, although it was paved, seemed like a trail in a forest. There was barely space to make a U-turn, and so we drove on, under a canopy of trees, not knowing what the end of the drive would look like. We were so excited!

What we found at the end of the drive on Sycamore Canyon Road was a little anti-climactic: there was a booth and a long-haired gentleman collecting a $5-per-vehicle entrance fee. There was a parking area, and restrooms. There were a few groups of friends, a family, a couple of surfers. (I have to say, though, that I was a little relieved because, after driving a few hours along the coast, surrounded by trees and rocks, mountains on one side and the ocean on the other side, it started to make sense to Imo and me why so many American horror films like "The Hills Have Eyes" exist.) The beach couldn't be seen from the parking area, but we could hear the ocean roaring. We followed the sound of the waves and walked through a grove, and then we were there.

And it was absolutely beautiful.

(I wish I brought my wide-angle lens. I couldn't help but take a gazillion pictures {you can see some of them here}, though I knew that better photos of the same place existed out there and mine wouldn't do justice.)

The wind was strong; it made the grains of sand fly and prick our skin like needles. The waves were huge and crashed against the rocks. But then they would recede and smoothen the shore and make it glisten (though we didn't see much of the purple sand -- yes, this beach has purple sand!). There was a lagoon that was clear and still. Seagulls waded in it. Nacho skipped stones on it. Pfeiffer Beach was nothing like the beaches we had gotten used to in Malibu. The sun was starting to set and we were a long way from home. But we hung around, so very grateful that we came, and already dreaming of coming back to explore more of Big Sur and staying for much longer.

the moody princess

2011-08-30T09:39:00.000-07:00

I am thrilled that Camille, my best friend and collaborator on grace, is blogging here! Her photos are lovely and her words are a delight to read (and of course I'm not just saying these things because I love her). Check it out :)

The Moody Princess

analog love

2011-08-28T13:25:00.000-07:00

I had my first roll of film developed yesterday. I had forgotten what it's like to have to wait to see pictures one has taken. My kids laughed every time I took a quick glance at the back of the new (old) camera right after the shutter fired (which is funny, considering they had no idea what a film camera was before they saw this). I crossed my fingers a minimum of 24 times these past few days, but I am happy to report that I think the finger-crossing paid off. Well, that and taking longer than usual to take one shot.

A few more photos are here. Some are over/underexposed, a little out-of-focus, or the white balance is slightly off, but I love them all.

film

2011-08-18T13:29:00.000-07:00

So I got me a handsome little vintage Nikon FE online. I can't wait till Monday when it arrives in the mail. It's been ages since I last took a picture with a film camera, and the first (and only) memory I have of ever using an SLR camera is from forever ago, when my dad let me use his camera for the first time. I remember that I was trying to take a picture of a helicopter flying overhead. We were in a rally in 1986 and I was wearing a yellow dress.

I can't even remember now what kind of camera that was -- it was either a Pentax or an Olympus. I am guessing it was the same one he had taken with him on all his travels. I remember that he had a special bag for it. And a cleaning kit. I remember him sitting on the bed, one afternoon, in our old apartment in Sucat, with a little brush and blower, cleaning that camera. And I could see the dust specks flying around him in the afternoon light.

(My dad's things were always, to me as a child, curious, magical things: camera, typewriter, slide projector, paintbrushes {camel hair, he would point out to me}, oil paint in foil tubes, old hardbound medical books, stethoscopes, old turntable {with a diamond needle, he'd told me}, voilin, the metal filing cabinet he kept most of these things in. Now that I am older, I feel a powerful emotional attachment to these objects, and I think it's because none of the actual ones that he owned are with me, which makes more palpable the fact that my dad is no longer with me.)

Now, I don't think I would recognize that camera if I saw it. He sold it -- along with the camera bag and the lenses and cleaning kit inside, I imagine -- before we all moved here to the States in the early 90's. Come to think of it, he had stopped taking pictures by then and no longer needed it (or wanted it). If I had only shown any interest in photography as a teenager, perhaps he would've kept it for me.

It had to take almost twenty years (from the time Daddy parted with his camera) for me to take up photography. And then two more years for me to realize that I would like to learn to shoot film. So here I am now, going about learning photography backwards (in a manner of speaking). But when you are overcome with nostalgia and a longing for your dad (that grows stronger as you get older because you realize you have more in common with him now, you appreciate him better now, except that he is gone), it doesn't matter anymore when or where you start.

Dr. Angel Mendoza. Amsterdam, circa 1960.

a summertime meal

2011-08-11T01:43:00.000-07:00

I first noticed these summer squashes at the farmers' market a year ago but never got to try them out. Which is why, when I saw them again at the grocery store a couple of days ago, I put them in my shopping cart right away, even though I had yet no idea how I was going to prepare them. I love trying out new-to-me produce. Baby purple artichokes, blue potatoes, figs, pomegranates, dragon fruit, brussels sprouts, heirloom tomatoes, sugar beets, enoki mushrooms, red anjou pears, spigarello, romanesco broccoli -- ahh! The markets here are fruit and veggie heaven to me! You can only imagine my excitement at bringing home zucchinis so small (about the size of a finger) and squashes so funny looking! (They're called scallop or patty pan squashes, I later found out.)

Anyway, today, since I began cooking for my family again (after finally recovering from my two-month-long food styling and food photography gig, which I thoroughly enjoyed, but left me exhausted and devoid of any desire to do some real-life everyday cooking), and because school is starting in a couple of weeks (already!?) and I am trying to hold on to the summer by having dinners out in the patio again, I considered the summer squashes, and was inspired to make a roasted vegetable pasta.

I also had baby bell peppers (in red, orange and yellow!) in the fridge and decided to throw those in as well. I cut the squashes and peppers into bite-size pieces (and couldn't help but munch on them as I worked in the kitchen -- they were sweet and crunchy and delicious raw!), sliced up half of a white onion, pounded several cloves of garlic, then I placed all these veggies in a bowl, seasoned them with sea salt, tossed them in olive oil, transferred them to a baking tray, spreading them out in one layer, and roasted them in a 450 degree oven for around 15-20 minutes, flipping them halfway through the cooking time. (I must say here that I absolutely love roasted veggies -- asparagus, eggplant, mushrooms, whole tomatoes, carrots, cauliflower -- roasted veggies always make an exciting dish/side dish!) When the veggies were done, I tossed them with penne pasta (cooked in well-salted water until al dente and then drizzled with olive oil). To accompany the pasta, I made a simple salad (another favorite of mine these days): arugula with olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper, and shredded parmesan.

We sat in the patio and had dinner as dusk came at 8 o'clock. It was perfect.

random things

2011-07-28T01:43:00.000-07:00

I haven't been sleeping right. Not to mean that I haven't been sleeping well. I mean that I'm not sleeping at the right hours. Like last night, I went to bed at 4 a.m. and then woke up today at 1:45 p.m. I remember vaguely hearing one of my kids asking for some breakfast, but I couldn't get up. When I finally did get out of bed, they were watching movies and eating bread and Nutella, and Snapea Crisps. It was 1:45 p.m. Ugh.

I have to work on my sleeping schedule. I want so desperately to be an early riser. Except that I love staying up late, when the house is quiet, and I can do what I want in peace and without interruption. Like sit in front of the computer, and drink some coffee, like what I am doing right now. If only I can do with only a few hours of sleep, so I can stay up late and still wake up early. I remember Lille in college, and how she would always say that sleep was a waste of time. But then I also remember that movie The Ring and the part where the kid says to his mother about the evil girl Samara: Why did you help her? She doesn't sleep. Creepy.

Anyway, to make up for my negligence, I took the kids out to lunch. It was 4:30 p.m. Then to the park, where we stayed till 7:30 p.m. (Imo got home before we did.) Then they had movie night.

I took a picture of my toes in the park. The grass there is so lush and green. And my new nail polish is a purplish grey. It works for me.

Last night, before heading out to dinner with the family, I snapped a photo of myself in Joms' and Kat's mirror because I thought that this V-neck shirt made me look thin. I am really not thin. I am still wearing the same shirt. It smells like Korean barbecue (from dinner last night and lunch with the kids this afternoon. We love Korean barbecue.)

I want to visit the Heath Ceramics store here in LA. I've been coveting their tableware. Imo thinks I am crazy to be willing to spend more than $30 for one plate. But look how beautiful!

Bon Iver is the soundtrack to our better days. And for that, other than they are brilliant, of course, I love them.

And since I am on the subject of music, I also really like Midlake. Have I said this before? I am not very musically up-to-date, in fact, I am quite hopelessly baduy. But I love Midlake, their album The Trials of Van Occupanther, specifically, because they remind me of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young and Fleetwood Mac... and America(!). Though with a somewhat more ethereal(?) sound. I've come to realize that it's easier for me to appreciate new(er) bands/artists if they sound old.

I have old ears. Imo is the cool one. Thank god for him and his taste and his influence on our children.

a fairy party for asha

2011-07-20T15:09:00.000-07:00

Because she wanted a real party (vs. the ones we would have at home with just family) and spent the past year (as in, right after she turned five in July 2010) dreaming up a party for her sixth birthday. And because Asha has these amazing powers of persuasion (i.e. she will wear you down until she gets you to do what she wants you to do).

Of course life started to get really busy right around summer started, and July drew nearer and I had but a vague idea of what this party was going to be like: pizza? a piñata? cupcake decorating like what Yumi had? Until two weeks before the set date (yes, I had set a date before I had anything), I looked to Martha Stewart for inspiration and found this. Oh my god, I was sold.

The moment I sent out the invitations, there was no turning back. It took two weeks of rigorous party preparations, lots of team work (thank god I had Imo, Kat, Joms, Nyan, Brian, Loujie, Nica, Dada, Louise, JR on my team!), and extremely late nights/early mornings. I sewed the girls nightdresses made of cotton eyelet. We made tissue paper pom-poms, magic wands, treasure-hunting pouches, treasure/treat bundles, fresh flower crowns.

a fairy's treasure-hunting kit

some of the treasures/treats

It was a great outlet for one's OCD (mine). In fact, one night, while I was making one set of treat bundles (there were 5 sets, with around 20 bundles per set) wrapping little treasure items in 5"x5" squares of fabric scraps, and tying them up with yarn and brown paper tags (which I had cut, punched, and stamped myself), Joms stopped and looked at me and asked, "Gusto mo yang ginagawa mo?" And I, with dark circles under my eyes, and on the verge of a fever, happily nodded yes. "Ako, parang ayoko," he said. Of course, two nights later, he would be obsessively working on his computer on this genius of a treasure map.

a faerie map of Garfield Park

Asha's friends started arriving at 5 p.m. They snacked on (what in my mind was) fairy food: chocolate snails (rolled Nutella sandwiches), chicken wands, pretzel twigs, leaf chips, and strawberries, and apple strawberry juice. They went on a treasure hunt, hosted by Fairy Godmother Kat. There were different kinds of treasures to be found around the park (which turned into fairyland for two hours that day): tiny garden insect erasers in the Roses Circle, golden chocolate coins at the Sleeping Giant's Bridge (Brian dressed up as the Sleeping Giant -- he was brilliant and the kids loved him! Except for Yumi who was afraid, no matter how hard I tried to convince her that it was just Ninong Brian), mini-clothespins and twine in the Bamboo Fortress, bottles of bubble liquid in the Faerie Dust Valley, shiny marbles at the Realm of Rocks, and Pixy Stix in the Pixie Palms Meadow. After collecting treasures, they went back to the picnic to get fairy and elves stickers and flower and dragon tattoos as prizes. They gathered around and sang happy birthday to Asha and had flower muffins (orange poppyseed muffins, in place of the usual cupcakes, as requested by the birthday girl). Then they played until the sun began to set at 7 p.m.

I have to admit that the party turned out wonderfully! I loved that Asha's friends were so into it and having fun! And seeing that Asha was so happy, I knew that the hard work was all worth it.

Now all I need is two years to recover and I'll be ready to do something like this again for Yumi. Then that's it! I'm done! Seriously. Hahaha.

june gloom at the beach

2011-06-24T15:37:00.000-07:00

is not so gloomy. Especially on a Wednesday afternoon, when it's not so crowded, and you can watch the few people that are there and the many seagulls, and start singing the Baywatch theme in your head every time you see lifeguards, and spot dolphins from afar, and get the kids' minds off of video games, and love the fact that it's the baby's first time at the beach, and admire the light as the sun begins to set.

daddy's old slides

2011-06-22T01:48:00.000-07:00

We have two boxes of Daddy's old slides that we have not looked at for more than twenty years. Come to think of it, it's quite possible that many of them we've never seen at all before. We've been meaning to digitize them and preserve them, though we haven't yet gotten around to doing it (but we will soon!). The slides contain photos that he took from the early 1960's to around 1979, all of them of his travels. When we were children, Daddy would occasionally put on slideshows for us, and it was always cause for excitement. We loved those evenings when we would gather in the living room with the lights out, one wall cleared of furniture so that the slides could be projected on it. It felt like we were in a movie theater, and although the pictures didn't move, they were filled with stories: the blond-haired woman walking along the beach in Scheveningen, Daddy and Lola Paring in front of the giant Lincoln statue in Washington D.C., the giant hand holding a giant lipstick (in Universal Studios?) and the scary severed head from the Wax Museum (he always got a kick out of showing us that).

(He was quite the photographer.)

We unearthed those slides today, having gotten our hands on a working slide projector (thanks to Kat's older brother), and carefully took them out of the little boxes (inside the two bigger boxes) that Daddy had so carefully arranged and labeled in his own handwriting: Holland, Madrid, Germany, Vietnam, Baguio -- and loaded them in the slide tray. Daddy passed away in 2001, but tonight, we met him again. Forever young, sometimes smiling like Joms, sometimes making a face like Nyan, sometimes with a look in his eyes that reminded me of me. We drank coffee (the love of which all three of us inherited from him), listened to his favorite songs ("Three Coins in the Fountain," "As Time Goes By," "Misty" and more -- we had been working on a playlist), and remembered and celebrated this incredible man.

at home on the first monday of summer break

2011-06-21T00:59:00.000-07:00

I woke up late this morning to find that Imo, before leaving for work, had washed all the dirty dishes that I no longer had the strength to do the night before. There was also a pot of brewed coffee (still hot) waiting for me (thanks, honey). I got some work done at noon, which also meant that we (me, the kids, Baloo, Karen and Kat) had something freshly cooked for lunch. The kids played a bit of Wii, had a movie marathon in the afternoon (Superman Returns, Goonies and Home Alone), then played outside until it started to get dark and it was time for a late dinner (at almost 9 p.m.) The kids were in bed by 10 p.m. and Bulok Club (with the exception of Imo, who had fallen asleep on the couch) convened around the dining table till past midnight, with cups of coffee and laptops. I think it was a Monday well-spent.

a twirly black skirt for yumi

2011-06-15T17:26:00.000-07:00

I remember, almost two years ago, when I had to take Yumi along to Asha's ballet and tap classes, and how much she wanted it to be her turn to take those classes. Even at two, she knew her big sister's dance moves, and when I made Asha a tutu for her dance recital, Yumi wanted one of her own too. Well, this year, Yumi finally got her turn to dance on stage, though this time the recital was 50's themed and she had to wear a twirly black skirt instead of a tutu.

I can't tell you how heavily putting together that skirt hung on my mind, what with all the activities that started to come up one after another in the last several days of May. But I did it, the day before the recital, with a "pattern" I made up, and very luckily making the one yard of black fabric (that I had bought weeks before with the intention of sewing the skirt that same week) fit. I even discovered, with much relief and amazement, that I had black bias tape in my stash of sewing notions (I needed the bias tape to hem the skirt). I wish I could share here how I put this skirt together, but alas, I took no measurements and made it up as I went along. I know I could've just gone ahead and bought a skirt, but I also knew -- as one other mom informed me with a bit of panic -- that black skirts of this style for children were hard to find in the spring season. I am so glad to know that even in this day and age, where everything is ready-made and can be bought, this sewing skill remains useful! Also, I spent no more than $5 on the skirt! I did spend around two hours working on it, but I love a labor of love.

Here it is up close, front and back (that's an elastic waistband, with a sash to cover it up):

And here's Yumi dancing on stage in the cutest twirly black skirt! (The poodle applique was ironed on late the night before.)

fiore

2011-06-14T19:15:00.000-07:00

I love breakfast dates. It's been one of Imo's and my favorite things to do since we got married (that's ten years, and counting). Back when we still lived in the Philippines, we would go even when it meant playing hooky from work on a weekday morning. (Which we did quite a few times -- head off to work, then change our minds right before entering the highway, and drive back to Alabang, to our favorite Cafe Breton there, and call in sick -- just to have a quiet breakfast together. We felt so rebellious and free, each time we did it. Haha!) Come to think of it, I love our breakfast dates more than I do our (now very rare) evening dates.

Our most recent breakfast date -- though it was technically already brunch (or lunch) -- was a couple of weeks ago, in a small cafe called Fiore Market Cafe, on the corner of Fremont and El Centro. I would drive past this place whenever I would drop off and pick up Yumi from school, and had often wondered about it (I believe it opened just last December). I'm really glad that Imo thought of it that Thursday morning.

It's such a charming little place, and I loved it at first sight. Outside on the patio, where all the tables are, is a little herb garden, and flowers and tomato vines. The sandwiches that we got -- mortadella with balsamic red onions and provolone cheese (Imo's) and grilled zucchini, eggplant, red pepper with homemade pesto (mine) "piccolo" sandwiches -- were delicious, and for me just the right size. The coffees were good too -- I had my usual latte, and Imo had an americano, the irony of which wasn't lost on me nor the lady behind the counter who informed me that they didn't serve regular brewed coffee. The place is run by a husband and wife team -- I believe we met the husband, who was there to take our orders and serve us our food, and bring us olive oil bruschetta later, and whom we could tell loved what he was doing.

These past few days have been quite busy for Imo and me, and I don't know when the next breakfast date will be, as I anticipate the coming days will be busy too. We might have to go on a weekend, with the kids, who will be on their summer break after this week. It'll be great to go back to Fiore for brunch (they open at 11 a.m.) and try more of the stuff on their menu while sitting in that lovely patio of theirs.

four years old

2011-06-03T19:37:00.000-07:00

How crazy is it that Yumi is now four? I must admit that she still looks like a baby to me (she still has those baby cheeks we so fondly call "facelift"), but sometimes I have to snap out of it and see that there is a kid in front of me who can do so many big girl things like write her own name, put together her own storybooks (inspired by her Ate Asha), pump her legs on the swing, put on her own shoes, use big words like "otherwise" correctly in sentences, and sing along quite impressively to songs like Lykke Li's "Sadness is a Blessing" and Lisa Hannigan's "Ocean and a Rock." (Sniff.)

Yumi's birthday last Tuesday was a busy day for her (and me). She had a little birthday party in school, with cupcakes (chocolate with pink frosting, by request), strawberries and rainbow Goldfish crackers to share with her friends. After that, ballet, and then in the evening, more cupcakes, this time to share with family. It was a cupcake-decorating party. (It was somewhat decided on the spur of the moment as I didn't want to give in to my exhaustion and get a store-bought cake, nor did I want to do -- as I didn't have the strength for -- all the work of frosting and decorating a cake. Though I did cave and make a miniature cake with a strawberry on top. Ha.) It turned out to be a lot of fun. We put all the decorated cupcakes together and sang Yumi a happy birthday, then she opened her presents. They were simple, useful/non-material presents, which are the best kind, and she was so happy to get them: a booster seat for the car, a new bike helmet and basket, some dresses, and a pony ride on Saturday (her gift of experience from Ninang Nyan and Ninong Brian, which I hope there will be more of for my children -- gifts of experience, that is)!

It was a very happy birthday!

adventures of the camping kind

2011-06-01T23:47:00.000-07:00

The month of May was so full (I was going to say "busy" but you know how I feel about that word) and what better way to cap it off than with a relaxing, restful camping trip to Lake Isabella. Ha! Well, we got back on Monday, and today is Wednesday, and I have to say that I haven't completely recovered from that trip -- in fact, I just finished doing four loads of laundry today (2 loads of regular weekly laundry + 2 loads of camping laundry). I am so freaking exhausted, but camping is always awesome -- even when it rains and you come unprepared for the really cold, really windy weather, both of which happened during last weekend's camping trip, though I wouldn't want those to ever happen again ever -- and we are planning on going on another one this month. Am I crazy? Maybe.

We drive along the Kern River on the way to Lake Isabella.

Our tent in the gulch.

Part of Lake Isabella.

Anyway, the campgrounds we stayed at was called Hungry Gulch, which, to me, sounds both curious and poetic. A gulch is "a deep, narrow ravine cut by a fast stream," imagine one that is also hungry. I make it sound so dangerous. (Well, we were warned to "keep an eye on the little ones" as there was a mountain lion that lived nearby, and that we should notify the camp hosts right away should we come across a rattlesnake. Hello!) But it was anything but the wilds. There were bathrooms nearby. Also plenty of other families in the other campsites. And on our first night, party people blasting the Lambada (!) from their Hummer, and Nyan said, "Ugh, I feel like I'm in a strip club! Stop them before I start stripping!" which I thought was hilarious. Thank god the party people were gone the following day. After it stopped raining. Ah yes, it also rained on our first night: loud, heavy rain, with winds that shook our tent as in The Blair Witch Project, and it continued on until the morning. We cooked tuyo, scrambled eggs and sinangag in the rain (but in spite of that, breakfast was delicious, albeit soggy, no kidding). I don't think any of us -- 15 of us in all, including the three kids and the baby, in six tents, on two adjacent campsites -- had ever gone camping in the rain before. But, well, that was our gift of experience to ourselves and the children that weekend. Haha! That, and a boat ride on Lake Isabella -- which was fun, save for the cold. We brought fishing equipment and sandwiches on board, and Nacho learned how to drive!

At the marina.

Their first fishing boat trip.

His first time to drive a real vessel/vehicle ever.

As always, we had a campfire going and we cooked our meals and boiled water for coffee and hot chocolate over it, roasted marshmallows in it and made s'mores, sat around it to keep warm (even in the daytime) and told some ghost stories and chatted away and laughed loudly through the night (yes, remember the party people, we turned into them on the second night, minus the obnoxious taste in music).

Also, the mountains were beautiful and so was Lake Isabella. We brought swimsuits, thinking we could jump off the boat and take a dip in the water -- but alas, it was freezing, and so perhaps we could do that some other time. The kids really enjoyed fishing in it though -- from the shore, on the first day, and from the boat the next day. They didn't catch anything, but hey, they learned to cast their fishing poles, and Nacho learned how to hook a worm. (And that is a double accomplishment for my son, who is easily grossed out by worms. And all kinds of bugs. Sigh. It's Asha who will save us from the cockroaches and the spiders.) Also, the kids had a blast, just by being outdoors, collecting twigs and flowers, digging in the dirt, and sleeping in their sleeping bags in our family-sized tent.

So, you see, we are ready to go camping again soon! Yay!

Group picture time. Timer malfunction.

All of us.

around town

2011-05-27T11:48:00.000-07:00

We were in Pasadena quite a bit in the last few weeks. These photos were taken from our trips to the Gamble House, during Art Night, and from the car while doing errands :) (Click to supersize.)

1-4. Outside the Gamble House. No photos were allowed to be taken inside. 5. Inside the Art Center College of Design. 6. The courtyard of One Colorado, where a band had just finished playing. 7. Imo in an alley, on the way to The Artist Studio. 8-9. Habits of Mind exhibition in the Artist Studio. A Manananggal! And other monsters. 10. The light through the trees was so lovely. 11. An accordion player outside Alliance Francaise. 12. Colorado Blvd. at night. (Here it is in the daytime.) 13. On the sidewalk, those flowers hanging on the ledges smelled wonderful, like sampaguita. 14. Goldbug shop window display -- very curious and eerie! 15. A canopy of ficus trees on Green St. 16. The Pasadena City Hall.

going out for breakfast

2011-05-22T11:01:00.001-07:00

Every now and then we like to go out for breakfast. Though I think we make excellent breakfast food at home (with the exception of those muffins), sometimes it's nice to just sit down and be served and not have to do a ton of dishes afterwards. It's also a real treat when we try one of the little cafes or restaurants around town.

Sometime last month, Imo and I decided to go to Mike & Anne's on Mission St. It was a Tuesday or a Thursday morning and all three kids were in school, so it was a date, and we thought we could splurge a little bit. We sat in the patio where, out of maybe ten more tables, there were only two others occupied, so it was nice and quiet.

We ordered coffees (regular brewed for him, a latte for me, which tasted a lot like the moka coffee I make for myself at home); Imo got the corned beef hash and I got the lemon ricotta pancakes. Imo's corned beef hash had beef that was handcut and cooked with sweet peppers and onions and was slightly crispy from the potatoes. The toast (I think it was multi-grain or whole wheat with seeds) was excellent (haha! I rave about toast!). My pancakes were very fluffy and the caramelized blueberry compote that it was served with was delicious -- I only wish the server had included what I had of it left over with the pancake I asked to take home (I couldn't finish everything). We spent close to $40, including tips, so... it's definitely food that will just have to be recreated at home!

And then last week, with the Mendozas and Baloo and Irving, before we started our tour of the museums of the Arroyo (on our itinerary were the Pasadena Museum of History and the Gamble House, which were open for free that day), we had a late breakfast at Gus's on Fair Oaks Ave.

Breakfast is served only on Saturdays and Sundays at Gus's, but there's a lot to choose from on the breakfast menu, and it's cheaper than Mike & Anne's -- also, in my opinion, for food that is a lot better, it is also cheaper than IHOP. Imo got rib-eye steak and eggs for $11.95 (IHOP's T-bone steak and eggs costs around $15), the kids got the kids' breakfast (three buttermilk pancakes, tater tots and fruit) for $3.95 each, and I got myself the vegetarian omelet which was $7.95. My omelet had mushrooms, tomatoes, spinach, olives, sweet onions, roasted peppers, fresh mozzarella, basil salsa and daikon sprouts. It came with toast (I chose brioche) and a bowl of fruit. It was really, really, really good. The cost of the food didn't feel like highway robbery (though we were charged 20% gratuity for being a party of nine, not including Olivia, but that was expected) so we will be coming back!

a night on the (old) town

2011-05-15T22:41:00.001-07:00

On ~~Saturday~~ Friday, I had that urge again, to be out at night -- not to go to bars or clubs or anything like that, but just to be where there are people, to take a walk under the city lights, and then maybe have a cup of coffee at an outdoor table of a small cafe (or a Starbucks). I thought I needed to jump on a train to be able to do that, and was starting to feel discouraged because no clear-thinking mother would dare take her kids on an impromptu train ride downtown at past 8 p.m. and expect them to take a quiet walk with her and husband and peacefully accompany them to have some coffee afterwards. Until Kat suggested Old Pasadena.

I forget about Old Pasadena, and how perfect a place it is, really, for me and my sudden urges to go out on a Friday night, with children in tow. It is so close by, and although urban and cosmopolitan, it is also "quaint, picturesque and rich in history" (says their website). And you know, "quaint, picturesque and rich in history" is my thing.

Stores along Colorado St. in 1888.

Colorado St. (now Colorado Blvd.) in 1926.


1934 paving of Colorado Blvd. In 1929, the street was widened by 14 feet on each side. Many of the Victorian building facades (as in the first photograph) had to be taken down and were replaced with Art Deco and Spanish designs, which survive to this day. (Above photos courtesy of the Pasadena Digital History Collaboration.)

And here we are now. Well, last Friday.

The same streetlamps (see third photo) or reproductions.

Art deco.

An outdoor screen on a side of a building, viewed from the One Colorado courtyard.

The historic Braley Building, built in 1906, is now owned by the church of Scientology, which Nacho thought was a science museum. He wanted to visit it and I had to firmly discourage him.

We had sushi for dinner, and although it was a Friday night, and we were a party of nine (that's including the three kids and one baby), we didn't need to wait to be seated. (It was because everyone else wanted to be at the revolving sushi bar. We were fine at a regular table.) Then we took a little walk to the Starbucks that was right next door to a Barnes and Noble, got coffees (and hot chocolates for the kids), browsed in the bookstore a little bit, and then walked to the One Colorado courtyard and sat there with our drinks, until Asha started to get cranky, and so we headed back to the Schoolhouse parking lot and drove home. We were out for a total of three hours, without anything really exciting having had happened, but my pleasures in my old age have grown simple, and this night out was just what I needed.

muffin fail

2011-05-13T11:23:00.000-07:00

After a (close to) two-week absence from this space, I am back on Friday the 13th to write about a muffin recipe gone awry. It started out with so much promise: I craved something savory for breakfast, and since there was neither bread to toast nor rice to fry, I quickly surveyed the contents of my fridge and pantry and thought, no problem, I could make savory muffins!

I had flour (which I always have, but this time, I also had organic whole wheat flour), I had some rolled oats (left over from when I made those oatmeal cookies), I had three eggs left, I had maybe half a cup of buttermilk in the carton (left over from all the buttermilk pancakes I'd been making in the past week) which wasn't enough for the recipe I found online but I also had a bit of plain yogurt (left over from when we made mango lassi for an Indian-themed dinner a few nights ago), and also left over cheeses (parmigiano-reggiano from the night before when Baloo and Irving made eggplant parmigiana, and a blend of grated monterey jack and cheddar from a taco dinner months ago). I wanted bacon and some sort of green vegetable in that muffin, but all I had was farmer's ham and arugula (that was rather bitter and sharp -- could it be that it's now too late in the season for arugula?).

I began by sauteeing the ham and arugula with onions in butter. I wish someone had stopped me at this point and convinced me to make an omelet instead. But I proceeded and made the muffin batter as described in the recipe I had found online, though I seriously thought twice about putting in that much baking powder and baking soda (THREE teaspoons total! for 1 and 1/4 cups flour!) and thought twice about using a teaspoon of garlic powder. I ended up with muffins that, though they rose beautifully and were so tender, tasted flat and soapy and artificial. They were tolerable warm -- eaten with some cream cheese. But an hour or so later, they were inedible and I had to throw them all out.

Looks can be deceiving.

I felt so bad. And I thought I was being so clever, using up all those left-over ingredients and producing freshly baked goods in the morning. And now, because of my guilt at having wasted all that food, I am left to write this as a kind of ode to the muffin that failed. Should I be brave enough to attempt these muffins again, I will:

1. add some kind of sweetening to the batter (2 or 3 tbsp. of honey, perhaps)
2. up the cheese to maybe 1/4 cup
3. use a milder green vegetable, like baby spinach or broccoli
4. do away with the garlic powder altogether

In the meantime, I hope that this was an isolated incident and that I haven't really lost my baking mojo. When (and if) I try making these again with the above improvements, I will report back on the result and post a proper recipe.

the beach

2011-05-03T00:16:00.000-07:00

We went for the first time this year, us + Baloo.

The weather was perfect: bright and sunny and cool. We brought boogie boards but the water was just too darn cold. Which was fine, though, as I had no intentions of going in the ocean anyway. Not because I am a wimp, but because, before leaving for the beach, I tried on my old swimsuits and found that they were all ill-fitting (i.e. I am fat) and so I put on a dress, deciding that I would be completely happy simply sitting in the sun and walking along the edge of the water. (And vowed to take dieting and exercising more seriously.)

After the beach, we went home and fired up the grill, also for the first time this year, and grilled chicken fillets, portabella mushrooms, carrots, zucchini and asparagus. The whole apartment smelled like smoke but dinner was delicious.

It was a very, very good Sunday.

(I couldn't resist.)

Greetings from Malibu!

color

2011-04-28T23:43:00.000-07:00

I wanted to share the "new" thing that I did to our living room, because Imo had commented that the place had no color. Sure there is, I defended myself. But apparently, when everything is blue and white and brown, there is no color. So prompted by that remark from my husband who almost never says anything about the way I fix up this apartment (so I knew it must be serious this time), and inspired by my girls whose favorite color is "rainbow,"

I dug out these throw pillow cases (that were given to me, I believe, by Nanet from when she traveled to Thailand years and years ago) in order to bring some color to our "colorless" living room. It really is strange the way I sometimes obsess over one particular color, or one particular pattern, especially when decorating our home, even though I know that matchy-matchy is totally baduy. I think I may have some form of reverse ADD.

Anyway, tada!

Well, I guess there isn't much of a difference. But that's three new colors, people. Three!

happiness these days

2011-04-19T16:25:00.000-07:00

After I dropped off all the kids at school today and while a load of laundry was in the washer, I sat outside in the patio with my morning cup of coffee.

I put some new container flowers in the patio and it really is beautiful out there right now.

Geraniums. I placed them in handmade ceramic pots/vases that I found at the thrift store a while back.

An insanely large pot of marguerite daisies. I couldn't help myself.

Verbenas. I read that butterflies love them but we haven't had any visitors yet.

I've had this peace lily for two years. It has started to bloom again.

Mint. It grows like crazy. And looks great next to these bilaos that I found at the thrift store also.

My view of the dining room from the patio. Fresh cut daffodils.

dinner picnic

2011-04-17T00:17:00.000-07:00

Though we are not really in the habit of celebrating month-birthdays, I love that we decided, almost spontaneously, to celebrate Olivia's fourth month today -- outdoors, in the evening of what was a very warm spring day, with banderitas (made way back for Yumi's first birthday) and picnic blankets/banig, pasta and cupcakes. It was such a simple little party, instant almost, but with the fresh air and the early evening light (and the impromptu Bollywood dance demonstration), it was perfect.

She was sleeping/cranky for most of the party (Olivia, not Baloo) but the grown-ups and the kiddie cousins had fun. Happy fourth month, Ibs!

trigger-happy

2011-04-16T01:42:00.000-07:00

I take so many photos in one day that I never really get to "use" -- that is, nobody sees them but me. But I like going through my Pictures folder and being reminded of the little things that make our life so full. I love my camera; it was a birthday present from Imo two years ago, and it truly is a gift that keeps on giving.

Here are some pictures that I took from a few days ago. Seeing them today made me smile. Though, I must say beetroot pesto really does make spaghetti look like earthworms. Well, there's a spring pasta dish for you (pwede rin Halloween)!

the cat we met on the sidewalk that looked like Q.D. Mang, my (and Joms and Nyan's) favorite cat from our childhood

our neighbor's garden -- lush with lavender and rose bushes

the shocking pink dinner (beetroot pesto, zucchini, portabella mushrooms, baby arugula)

at Home Depot, plant window-shopping

chocolate ice cream with orange sherbet -- delicious!

mint green

2011-04-13T22:39:00.000-07:00

Yay, I got to do one thing from my list today.

Now my toes match this! Whee!

(Ay, the wonders of allowing oneself a small, silly indulgence!)

**

Oh! And one more thing that made me smile so big today:

Dear Ate Asha, I do, I do like ducklings, and I love you! :)

stuff i want to do right now

2011-04-13T11:13:00.000-07:00

These are not on my calendar. Actually, my reminder board is full of things I really don't want to be reminded of, like bills to pay. But right now I sure would love to:

- get crazy-colored nail polish (like mint green) and paint my toenails
- fill the apartment with fresh flowers
- go antique- and thrift-shopping with Camille.

But alas, mommy-duty calls.

dandelions

2011-04-10T23:13:00.000-07:00

It's the last day of spring break and it was a beautiful day. (And nope, we didn't get to do everything on our list, but that's okay.) The kids rode their scooters around the block in the afternoon. We spotted some dandelions growing by the sidewalk and we had to stop and pick them. Who can resist dandelions? Certainly not Asha!

oatmeal cookie deluxe

2011-04-08T00:24:00.000-07:00

I don't know what came over me, but I just had to do the laundry and make these when we came home from our hike at Griffith Park. I followed this recipe, but since I didn't have raisins or walnuts, I used Craisins (dried cranberries) and sliced almonds instead. I also threw in some dark chocolate chips, thinking that that would make the kids want to eat such an otherwise seemingly healthy cookie. But I was wrong. The girls wouldn't have any of the seemingly healthy cookie. But that's okay. More for me!

These oatmeal cookies are so good -- perfectly chewy, and the tangy flavor of the dried cranberries and the bittersweetness of the dark chocolate complement each other so well.

Oatmeal Cookies with Craisins and Dark Chocolate Chips
(adapted from Smitten Kitchen)
makes 24 two-inch-in-diameter cookies

1/2 cup (or 1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups rolled oats
a heaping 1/3 cup Craisins
a heaping 1/3 cup dark chocolate chips
1/2 cup sliced almonds

In a large bowl, cream together butter and sugar. Mix in egg and vanilla extract. Stir until smooth. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt. Incorporate the flour mixture into the creamed butter and sugar mixture. Add the oats, Craisins, chocolate chips and almonds. You may chill the cookie dough in the refrigerator for around 10 minutes for slightly thicker, chewier cookies. During this time, pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees F. Scoop roughly 1 tbsp of cookie dough onto a parchment-lined baking sheet, making sure to arrange cookies two inches apart. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes until edges are golden brown. The tops of the cookies may appear underbaked, but that's okay. Remove from the oven and allow the cookies to sit on the hot baking sheet for 5 minutes more before allowing them to cool on a wire rack.

sa zoo, sa zoo

2011-04-06T23:29:00.000-07:00

Remember that Yano song? I can't get it out of my head now, because that's what we did today: namasyal sa zoo. LA Zoo to be precise, which is really close by, and inexpensive. We got ourselves a Family Membership, for only $24 more ($34 more without the coupon I found online) than what we would've paid total for regular tickets -- but this one entitles all five of us to unlimited visits to the zoo for a whole year, 10% discount at the zoo restaurants and shops, and two one-day guest passes, among other things. An awesome deal, I believe.

The day started out cloudy today, which I read was perfect zoo weather, because then the animals actually come out. Which they did, and we all got a pretty good view of many of the them. Asha even came prepared with a pair of binoculars! (She had brought her camera too, only to discover that its batteries had been removed -- and placed inside a Wii remote, we figured.)

The kids were all right, but I must admit I was the one most excited. There were hardly any zoo visits in my childhood -- there were a couple ones to Manila Zoo but I remember those to be really depressing. I remember how sad and small the cages were. Well, the animals at the LA Zoo were in cages too -- but the cages here at least had the semblance of a natural habitat and the animals looked like they were being treated much better. Which I realize is the same thing that can be said about life here in the U.S. vs. life in the Philippines. Haha.

Anyway, my favorites were the flamingos and the giraffes and the axolotl (which I wasn't able to take a decent picture of). These animals are just so beautiful, they seem almost otherworldly. I wish we didn't have to see them in captivity, but I am grateful anyhow that we were able to see them in person at all.

It's funny that what Yumi wanted to do most at the zoo was have a snack and be carried, and Asha was most excited about going to the playground, and Nacho just wanted to buy anything from a vending machine, and that they all agreed that the best part of the trip was the tram ride. Maybe this is one of those experiences that will mean more to them as they grow up (though I hope the insight will be one more positive than mine about the cages). Maybe the next time we go, they will actually be more interested in seeing and learning about the animals there. For now, we'll have to make do with the following highlights: their awe over seeing a banana plant for the first time (it was just growing there unassumingly), and the four whole hours of exercise we all got just walking around the zoo grounds. And I got to take some really good photos!

*Update! Here is Asha's diary entry on our trip to the zoo. So awesome.

back to griffith park

2011-04-05T23:37:00.000-07:00

We went back to Griffith Park today to finish what we started a few weeks back. We came prepared this time, with water, clementines and Skyflakes crackers. The sun was hot and it was a dusty trail going up to the observatory (and the littlest one in our group started to whine and wanted to be carried) but we did it!

Are we there yet?

On the trail, Nacho stayed alert for rattlesnakes and mountain lions, and Asha was the real trooper, running on ahead and never complaining once about being tired or thirsty. Those two had the best time, though, picking up rocks and sticks, spotting woodpeckers, and strange spiky green rambutan-like fruits growing on a tree. ("It's durian!" said Nacho, pronouncing it "dir-yen" and Imo and I just looked at each other like, "Ay, islang ang bata pero at least alam nya ang durian!") When we reached the observatory, after what I think was an hour long hike (only because we kept stopping), Yumi was finally appeased with a snack.

We made it!

Viewing Los Angeles from a telescope.

Loving the art deco details.

Resting in the shade of the Astronomers Monument.

At German astronomer William Herschel's feet.

Though the observatory itself was closed, there were telescopes to play with, a sun dial and a monument of astronomers to check out. Oh, and there was a good view of the Hollywood sign from there too.

Look at Yumi with her walking stick!

The hike back down was quicker and quite painless, though Yumi kept slipping and I, on a couple instances, because I was holding her hand, slipped along with her. But I am convinced that if we went hiking on a regular basis, these three could be little mountaineers, and Imo and I would lose some weight. Haha. Definitely worth doing again.

so it turns out

2011-04-04T16:58:00.000-07:00

We're staying home today, having fried spam and rice for lunch, and babysitting Olivia. Tomorrow, our adventures begin. Promise. Haha!

spring break

2011-04-03T23:42:00.000-07:00

I had completely forgotten about spring break. Its arrival kind of caught me off guard, but now that it's here, I am thrilled. (I am thrilled that I do not have to wake up early tomorrow morning, yay!) We started it off on Friday with banana muffins in the afternoon (thus ending my more-than-two-months-long baking hiatus) and, later that evening, the year's first alfresco dinner at home (the day before, I had fortuitously cleaned the patio for the first time in months).

Buffet, Baloo, and alfresco dining area.

Arugula salad with parmesan and lemon, broiled chicken, roasted veggies, garlic rice.

We stayed home on Saturday and the kids found their own ways to entertain themselves -- which disappointingly involved hours of sitting in front of the TV playing Wii and watching movies, though they did play outside in the yard (with scooters and mud) and the patio (with paint) for a bit.

Today, we went to two birthday parties, and I can't begin to tell you how relieved I am that I survived those as I am not big on "social obligations," as my dad used to call them. (The social obligation here, of course, is my having to accompany the kids to these events, and not so much their attendance of said events.) Still, I am glad the three had a busy day today playing for real, in the park where the first birthday party was held, and then at a lovely tea party (where Nacho was relieved to find one other boy to play with, thank god) in the home of one of Asha's friends.

We are looking forward to a week of activities (for cheap if not for free!), and these are what's on the list so far:

hiking in Girffith Park
a drive-in movie
a trip to the LA Zoo
the beach
a picnic/barbecue in the park
riding the train and taking a walk around downtown LA
checking out the Victorian houses in Angelino Heights (this last one is for me haha!)

I'm hoping we get to do all these things this week. I shall report back on our adventures!

some snapshots from the birthday weekend

2011-03-29T02:12:00.000-07:00

Nyan and Brian took the kids on Friday and Imo and I had a nice dinner at our (newly discovered) neighborhood Japanese restaurant. I am always craving Japanese food and I can't tell you how immensely satisfying that bowl of chirashi was that night. I was so hungry I forgot to take a picture of it.

After that, we went to watch a show at a club in Silver Lake. I realize I am getting old because, though I was paying attention when the band Ivan & Alyosha started to play, those drums startled the bejesus out of me. Sigh.

Also, just to illustrate how out of the loop I am, I was so shocked that a beer from the tap cost $6 a glass, I quick took a gulp from my glass to hide said shock from the bartender. Also, I was nervous as hell having to show my ID, like I wasn't already 34 that day, you know? (Which reminds me of that time Imo and I went to watch an R-18 movie at Greenbelt or something, and the woman behind the ticket booth asked me how old I was. I was so flustered, I blurted out defensively, "Eighteen!" And Imo looked at me like I was crazy because I was actually 24.) Also, after the first hour (of the three hours we stood there right in front of the stage, watching also Little Scream, then Sharon Van Etten), my feet were killing me, I was turning deaf, and I wanted to go home and have a nice cup of coffee and some quiet. I am laughing at myself now. But seriously, I did have a good time if only for the fact that it was my first real night out in a very long time.

The next day, there were more celebrations in the form of dimsum for lunch with family, and later that night with the Bulok Club and the girls (Nacho had a sleepover at a friend's house), pizza for dinner, beers, and, care of Nyan, a delicious Chocolate Orange Jack Daniels birthday cake (with candles signifying my 30,000th year {see below}, as that's how KJ I truly am haha), and then a movie. It was awesome.

playing in the rain

2011-03-23T21:05:00.000-07:00

When I think about what my childhood was like, "sheltered" readily comes to mind, but "overprotected" is perhaps more accurate, and, in some respect, even "deprived." I don't know what my parents were afraid of, but they kept the three of us in that big house, with a large woman for a yaya called Adelfa standing guard by the gate, telling the neighborhood children to go away. I never got to climb trees, or play in the mud, or go to the beach. But you know, I made do, and learned to ride a bike in the garage. Also, I guess it's all good as Nyan, Joms and I got really creative with our indoor entertainment (such as when Joms discovered that riding a mattress down the staircase made for a really thrilling ride) and we read all the books in the house (including Daddy's circa 1940's medical textbooks, which smelled like what I imagined would be the smell of smallpox).

Anyway, all this to say that I am glad my children have what I never had: plenty of outdoor playtime. On the grass, in the sand, in the mud, in the dirt, in the trees, in the snow, under the sun, and in the rain.

(Well, it's not much rain, but they'll take what they can get -- any excuse to parade in the courtyard with jackets and rainboots and open umbrellas.)

on the couch

2011-03-21T14:18:00.000-07:00

Here are the four loves of my life being couch potatoes on Sunday because the rain wouldn't stop and it was chilly inside the apartment (and not turning on the heater was a good excuse to snuggle).

(Yes and we watch TV sideways, that way our necks start to hurt and we're discouraged from watching too much TV. Haha.)

the dreaded diorama

2011-03-20T00:34:00.000-07:00

I love the book reports Nacho's teacher assigns them in class, as there is always a creative project component, so it's not all just report writing. Also, she allows them to choose the books they want to read, as long as the books are within the assigned genre. So far, he's made a travel brochure for the setting of a science fiction novel (he had chosen War of the Worlds, the abridged version), a children's book version of a chapter of a fantasy novel (Harry Potter Book 3, I believe), a 3-part exam (and the teacher in me was tickled pink) on a non-fiction book (Saturn), a comic strip on a novel of historical fiction (about Alexander Graham Bell), and a diorama depicting a scene from a mystery novel (the title of which I have now forgotten haha).

Although I think these projects are brilliant, I must admit they cause me some anxiety (carried over, I believe, from when I was in elementary school and having to finish so many impossible and useless projects) and they are never done without a struggle. "I hate school!" Nacho would whine, and it would break my heart. But I'd sit with him through it, and always he would end up having fun making these things and realizing (as would I) that they weren't so bad after all.

I was especially averse to dioramas, but look! Nacho (with my help) didn't do too shabbily on this one.

The protagonists enter the hotel room and are shocked at what they find.

Check out those details: the hotel hallway, the door, room number and "do not disturb" sign...

... and the rope and gag on that poor diorama figure!

today's tulips

2011-03-18T00:25:00.000-07:00

I am broke as a joke, but $7 is a small price to pay for a bit of sunshiny happiness on my dining table. Priorities, di ba?

sewing update

2011-03-17T17:20:00.000-07:00

I must admit I am doing horribly towards my sewing goal. It's been more than a month since I started and have only three blankets in the works (two need quilting, and one is still only a quilt top). But I did finish one, though not for the shop (the shop in my imagination haha). It's for Nacho's teacher who is going on maternity leave, and his class will present it to her tomorrow. I love that it's all vintage-looking and really soft. I hope she likes it.

Only when I finished did I realize why the color combination was so familiar to me. I didn't do it on purpose, but this quilt totally matches my favorite cup!

saturday mini-adventure no. 2

2011-03-15T14:32:00.000-07:00

Later that evening, we went to Hollywood on a whim (mine), because I had never been there and I hadn't gone out for so long, I was willing to take any version I could of a night out in the city (i.e. with children in tow). But what turned out to be more amusing actually was Nacho, Asha and Yumi's excitement over not being in their beds and instead hanging out on Hollywood Boulevard at past their bedtime. It was quite a sight: three little children, surrounded by twinkling lights and neon signs, in the chilly night air (that also smelled of hotdogs being cooked), in a crowd of party people, tourists, vendors, street musicians, superheroes, one villain, and one king of pop, walking down a sidewalk filled with stars.

They all fell asleep in the car on the ride back home. We'd all had our fill of the LA night life.

saturday mini-adventure no. 1

2011-03-13T23:54:00.000-07:00

Saturday was a good day for little adventures. The first one being a completely impromptu trip to Griffith Park. (The second one would be an evening walk along Hollywood Blvd. in the next post.) We've lived in LA for more than four years but haven't, as a family, really explored the city, so we are always thrilled to discover something new (that is, new to us).

We went to Griffith on a whim and were completely unprepared -- we didn't bring water, Yumi and I weren't wearing the right shoes, the sun was beginning to set -- but the kids were raring to go and so we started the hike up to the Observatory. We did make it maybe a quarter of the way there before the nervous mother in me asked everyone to turn back. We did reach a spot high enough to get a view of the city and we were all pretty pleased, but vowed to come back prepared next time.

When we got back to the start of the trail, we spotted this little cafe, aptly called The Trails. Right across the street from where we parked, it stood, just a little shack, actually, hidden among the trees and very quaintly, wonderfully, lit with string lights. There was coffee and vegan sandwiches and pies on the menu. There were tree stumps and haystacks that the kids could play on. We got something to drink (coffee for Imo and me, hot chocolate and iced tea for the kids) and hung out for a bit at the tables (it was all outdoor seating) until the place closed at sunset.

(In light of the recent calamities, natural and otherwise, in Japan and all around the world, I think of our joys, and how simple and small they are, and fleeting. Let me be mindful of these moments. Let me be grateful.)

all parked out

2011-03-11T18:48:00.000-08:00

We were at the park five times this week. It's great that the kids got to do some serious outdoor play (riding bikes, running on the grass, going on the swings and slides and monkey bars in the playground). But, god, how exhausting for me. Keeping an eye on one's children, even when done while sitting down on a picnic blanket in the middle of a grassy field, is exhausting business. I wonder how those other parents manage: regular trips to the park, volunteer work in their kids' school, coordinating playdates and other activities (on top of housework and, for many, me not included, a career). It's crazy how one's "social" life can easily revolve around one's children. It wears me out just thinking about it, and I don't even do a third of what some of these parents do. Though sometimes I wish I were more involved in that way. Not to say I am not involved in my children's lives. The problem I think is that I am too involved: I am always just Mommy. Oh god. I need a life.

Or just a drink. A drink will do for now.

(Photos taken at Lacy Park, except this last one, at the Rose Bowl.)

spring #5

2011-03-06T20:33:00.000-08:00

But I've only started to really pay attention.

My african daisies are in bloom--

as are these trees in the In N Out parking lot.

And I am trying my hardest to pay attention just so that I will not despair.

asha's diary

2011-03-03T00:07:00.000-08:00

On her own, she chose this notebook and started making a record of her days. It is the cutest thing ever.

I love how, out of all that happens in her day, she chooses one to write about and draw. I love the details in her drawings. And the way she spells certain words just about kills me too.

"Today I playd with my ponys."

"Today I pack up my clowse." (This was the day before we went up to Big Bear Lake. She means "clothes.")

"Today I went out and playd in the snow and it was the frst time that Olivia seen snow."

"Today I went to the car wash with my Daddy."

And before anybody gets on my case about this, let me just say that what is even more awesome is that she comes up to me and says, "Read my diary, Mommy!" Music to a mother's ears!

thursday afternoon

2011-02-24T18:58:00.000-08:00

There's so much about this city that lifts my spirits, and all I really need to do is to take a little walk. This afternoon, after borrowing some books from the library, the girls and I made our way to the farmers' market. We bought some strawberries and pretty much just admired the flowers and the produce (they had plenty of beautiful green veggies today). There weren't a lot of people, as it was really cold out, but the late afternoon light was so pretty, and there was live music (care of this man who was playing the sitar -- the sitar!), and bubbles in the air (care of our neighborhood Bubble Man who showed up today).

flowers

2011-02-23T18:16:00.000-08:00

I love having fresh flowers around the apartment. I only wish it didn't cost so much money to have them all the time. And so I am always tempted to walk around the neighborhood with a pair of clippers, just clipping away at blossoms that are growing past people's fences, or on trees on the side of the road. It's the best time for the sort of thing too because it's almost officially spring and so many trees are in bloom: magnolia, thundercloud plum, cherry, and plenty others, including shrubs, I don't know the names of. Such as these ones growing right outside the library. Oh how I would love to take home a bouquet of these.Except it's probably illegal. Is it? Haha.

kill your tv

2011-02-22T18:10:00.000-08:00

We have no cable subscription at home and the kids have very limited TV and video game time. The TV gets turned on pretty much only during the weekend (and not even every weekend), like on some Fridays for family movie night, Saturday mornings for cartoons and then some Wii. But that's about it. It's a recently re-implemented rule but already the results are amazing. They fight less, are less prone to crankiness and boredom (I know, isn't that ironic? but yes, TV and video games make them bored), and have taken to doing more productive/active/creative things.

This afternoon, it's origami and plenty of imaginative play. (I just love it when the two girls are busy playing "family" and story-telling with the dollhouse and their toy ponies.) I feel so pleased! It isn't always this peaceful -- I mean, there are moments when one of them would insist on turning on the TV, sometimes to the point of a tantrum, but I've learned that it pays to never give in even when I am really tired. I just have to direct their attention elsewhere. Or plain old paninindak works too ("NO!") hahaha. I've realized that sitting them down in front of a box because I do not want to be bothered is the worst thing I can do. It backfires, you know, the TV/video games as babysitter trick. It backfires big time.

a weekend in big bear

2011-02-21T14:48:00.000-08:00

It was sort of a spur-of-the-moment trip. There were all the right elements for it: a long weekend and a snowstorm in the mountains. So we went ahead and booked a cabin on Wednesday, got food and supplies for the cabin, snowsuits for the kids and tire chains for the CRV on Thursday, then on Friday we were on our way.

It was not an uneventful drive up there: we were running late, I had a throbbing headache, the GPS kept making us go in the wrong direction, it started to fog and snow really hard at 6000 feet, and just as it was getting dark, only a half mile to our cabin, our car started slipping on the icy uphill road there and we were stuck. It was a good thing that just as Imo and I decided that the kids and I would make the rest of the way to the cabin on foot (yes, uphill, in the dark, in maybe more than 6 inches of snow on the ground and more coming down) while he would wait in the car for some help or for my siblings to arrive (who were driving up that night), someone with a huge F350 truck arrived and offered to tow us to the top of that incline. Anyway, the kindness of that stranger, and the children exclaiming in the car when it started to snow that this was the best day of their life and that this was paradise, and all the happy running around in the cabin and frolicking in the snow ("If you ask me to shovel the driveway, I will do it!" said Nacho) more than made up for all the stresses of the ride up there. And I must say, snow, the first time I see it every time makes me want to cry. Because no matter how hard I try to rationalize against the "colonial mentality" I'm sure I've imbibed while growing up in the Philippines, I can't deny that there is something beautiful and awe-inspiring about ice crystals falling from the sky and blanketing the landscape in softness and white.

Some vignettes from inside our cabin --

We stayed for two nights with the McDozas and the Mendozas: Nyan mixed cocktails for the grownups, Brian, as usual, brought the fun, and Joms and Kat brought Olivia! There were snowball fights, games of Jenga and Taboo (and Sliding Down the Staircase with Snowsuits On), roasted marshmallows and smores, hot chocolate and coffee, a movie, hot food including french toast for breakfast and an apple pie for that night's dessert, snowman-building (or whatever that thing was that Joms, Yumi and I could make out of that incredibly powdery snow), and snow-angel-making, getting warm by the fireplace, and among the grown-ups, some good-natured ridiculing of Justin Bieber and Scientology. (Did you guys know that Bieber fans are called Beliebers? Hilarious!)

And so I beliebe -- er, believe -- we will be doing this again next year.

looking back

2011-02-15T15:05:00.001-08:00

I've been thinking about this old entry and how much things have changed for us since then. The park is still the same: with its perfect-for-climbing trees and lush green grass and occasional Bubble Man; but I take the kids there now with different thoughts inside my head. It still breaks my heart a little to remember that I was ever that content, that life had once promised to finally be... normal. But still I am thankful, as I always find myself anyway, no matter what the circumstances are.

not up to no good

2011-02-05T00:00:00.000-08:00

Aside from the usual, I've been busy taking photos for grace (or thinking about taking photos for grace -- man, posting daily requires discipline ha).

Also, I've been busy sewing and dreaming up (planning for) a little shop on Etsy. There. I said it and can't/shouldn't chicken out now. I have only almost finished making one patchwork blanket and wish I could work faster and more frequently than I am able to. But, alas, I have to wait till the children are asleep so that I can work happily uninterrupted, albeit half-asleep. I've got three more blankets already lined up, waiting to be cut and sewn and then hand-tied. I am so excited to open shop, hopefully, by March. My target is to finish at least eight blankets before I start listing my first set of items in the shop, so that's two blankets a week. I know it's a lot of work, but I am hoping my children will be kind to me, and so will my body.

coming full circle with the avocado

2011-01-26T16:52:00.000-08:00

Since having that plantain avocado cupcake from our neighborhood cupcake shop, I've been playing around with the thought of making my own avocado frosting. (Avocado frosting! Can any other frosting be curiouser?)

Our box of goodies from My Sweet Cupcake

I know it must sound a little odd, especially in the context of this country, where avocado is commonly, generally considered a "vegetable" (the way a tomato is a "vegetable," you know what I mean), and how, in the past few years, I've decided to embrace it as a vegetable because I couldn't really come to terms with it as a fruit when I was younger. In the Philippines, an avocado is a fruit, no one will tell you otherwise. My dad would eat it sprinkled with sugar, and my mom would slice it up and mix it with sliced bananas and sometimes fresh mango in sweetened milk; heck, she even made avocado milkshake. And if I remember correctly, you could buy avocado ice cream in the grocery store. Not having been a big fan, as a child, of avocado as fruit (i.e. eaten sweet), I was thrilled to discover its vegetable status here in the States, and I must say it was an epiphany to eat fresh slices of it in sandwiches, salads, California rolls, tacos and as the main ingredient in guacamole. I was thus convinced that this was the avocado's rightful place in the food universe. Until I came across that avocado frosting a couple of weeks ago, and realized that perhaps the avocado as fruit needed some revisiting.

Anyway, yesterday, I had the perfect opportunity to make a cake: there were overripe bananas in the fruit bowl and we were having some guests over for dinner. I usually make my banana cake with cream cheese frosting, but I quickly realized that I could make it instead with avocado frosting. Bananas and avocados apparently go well together (my mom certainly thought so with that fruit salad concoction of hers, and the people at the cupcake shop figured it out too). I searched everywhere on the internet for a recipe for avocado frosting, but none of them sounded good to me (or even looked good, based on the pictures they came with). So I thought I had to do this one on my own.

The recipe I came up with is pretty simple. It's basically an avocado-flavored mascarpone cheese frosting. What's key, I think, is to first puree the avocado, and to incorporate lemon juice into it to prevent it from oxidizing and turning an unappealing brown color later (I am so relieved that I realized this before I mixed it in with the other ingredients). Anyway, the frosting came out beautifully. It was a cool, pale-green color, smelled wonderfully of avocado and had a delicate avocado flavor, was not too sweet, and had a smooth, fluffy, spreadable (and not runny) consistency that was really easy to work with. And it was delicious.

My kids wouldn't eat it. But you know, they'll come around. (Like I did. Twenty years later. Haha.)

Avocado Frosting
makes enough to frost and fill a 2-layer 8-inch round cake

the meat of 1 medium-sized ripe avocado, pureed until smooth
1 tbsp lemon juice
8-oz tub mascarpone cheese
1 cup powdered sugar
1 cup heavy whipping cream

1. Add the lemon juice to the pureed avocado and stir well. Set aside.

2. In a large bowl, whisk mascarpone and powdered sugar together. Add pureed avocado mixture, whisking until completely incorporated.

3. In a separate bowl, whip heavy cream until stiff peaks form.

4. Fold whipped cream into the mascarpone-avocado mixture.

5. Best chilled. Use right away. (*Update: and consume within a day as the avocado begins to lose its freshness later on.)

newfound love

2011-01-23T20:54:00.000-08:00

Just last night, but I have since been unable to take my eyes off of Janet Hill's artworks. I've been staring and sighing and just clutching at my chest, taking in all those wonderful little details: the roses on the wallpaper, the old chairs, the red typewriter, the blue & white cup, the french press, the muffin. All things I love. Oh, I could live in her paintings!

You can see more of them here.

outtakes

2011-01-19T02:02:00.000-08:00

Today I did five loads of laundry, deep-vacuumed the apartment, put fresh sheets on the kids' beds, and baked two kinds of bread, among the usual everyday things (such as driving the children to and from school, washing dishes, preparing meals, supervising homework, giving baths, refereeing sibling squabbles, etc!!!). I am dead tired. But look at me blogging. Haha. I wanted to share some snapshots from today that I was considering choosing from and posting on Camille's and my new little space on the web (it's called grace and we love it) but neither of which I chose to post. Just because in the heat of the moment -- and I also do mean heat as there is a heatwave in the middle of freaking ~~December~~ gah, I meant January here in LA -- I couldn't see the beauty in these images. But now that the day is done and all the freshly-washed clothes are put away and the apartment is clean, I can look at them without a sense of dread.

(And look at Asha smiling at me -- well, at the camera -- from behind piles of laundry.)

Camille wrote that she loves doing housework, which I love doing too, except during the times I have to do it for other people. Which is like everyday. Hahaha. I'm just kidding.

Or not.

not the crazy doll lady yet

2011-01-16T01:54:00.000-08:00

but in the span of three days, I sewed up an entire wardrobe for these two dolls.

Sorry if it's a little Uncanny Valley, but that's Lily, Yumi's doll, on the left, and Katie, Asha's doll, on the right. (The girls came up with those names themselves. If it were up to me and Imo, the dolls, which we'd chosen for their dark hair and eyes/morena skin, would be called Maya and Lualhati, or somthing to that effect, if you know what I mean.) Both are wearing dresses that I had made using McCall's pattern M4338.

I am really happy because before I started on this project, Asha and Yumi barely played with these dolls, which we got them for Christmas, and now they play with them everyday. Also, though the dolls weren't cheap, I feel that I've saved up a lot as I hardly spent anything on the dresses, making use of fabric remnants and sewing notions that I already had. I bought the pattern for less than ten dollars at Jo-Ann's, and that's nothing compared to buying outfits that could go for $20 to $40 a piece at American Girl. With that one pattern, I also made these:

and I seriously can keep making more.

Sewing doll clothes is meticulous work, but the clothes sew up pretty quickly because of their size. Also, I am always amazed by how the pieces come together in the end to make a pleated jumper, or a collared shirt, or a dress with puffy sleeves. Also, I am happy to report that there was very minimal cursing involved.

(Even while stitching up this tiny sleeve, with gathers and elastic, for the pink dress above.)

I love it that the girls come up to me with requests for more pieces of clothing (pajamas, princess dresses), showing me their choices of fabric from the stash in the linen closet. One of the requests was for matching outfits for Yumi and her doll (thank god I still had leftover fabric from when I made her this dress almost two years ago!)

Anyway, I just feel really grateful that I learned to sew, and that I have the time and the patience to do it. I love making stuff for my kids -- when I feel sentimental, I like to imagine them passing on to their children the toys and clothes I've made for them. Also, as a kind of response to how everything is so commercial and disposable nowadays, I am thankful for handmade things.

(This outfit courtesy of remnants from this, this and this.)

christmas sewing

2011-01-09T22:48:00.000-08:00

This was all of it, this one thing: a patchwork blanket for Lilith, the little girl who is growing up so fast. I hardly found much time (or motivation) to sew last year, but I couldn't let this Christmas go by without some handmade love sent her way, precisely because it is shocking how quickly babies grow, especially when you are so far away from them. So I busted out this blanket in one night, so I could send it through the mail (with a drawing from Yumi and a postcard from Inkuwento) the next day, so that it could make it to New Jersey in time.

I used printed cotton fabrics in blues and greens, vintage blanket binding (from this stash), and really soft microfleece for the back. It was my first time to work with microfleece, so the finished product didn't end up perfect or as neat as I would like it, but I suppose that's part of the charm of handmade things (I hope) and I think that Lilith likes her blanket anyway. See here, in this photo that her dad, our dear friend Mike, sent me on Facebook, it looks to me like she thinks it's good enough to eat!

I realize that I need to start sewing more, again. Especially since I think there's a need for it in terms of clothes for myself (as I dislike clothes shopping for myself, ugh) and doll clothes for the Bitty Twins dolls (not cheap!) that Imo and I got for the girls last Christmas. Also because I think my spirit needs it. I'm always so happy to finish something, it makes me wonder why I ever get lazy in the first place. Here's hoping that 2011 will be a good year for sewing (among other things, of course.)

something's hiding in my cup

2011-01-07T17:42:00.000-08:00

I got this one as an early Christmas gift from Imo. It kept getting sold out on Amazon, but he managed to snag one for me. Yes, there is an owl in the middle of the cup. It drowns in my coffee and then slowly emerges as I drink my coffee. I know I already have quite a collection of cups (see here and here and here). But this one is in a league all its own: charming and hilarious and a little creepy all at the same time. I love it.

tasty!

2011-01-05T22:24:00.000-08:00

I've been meaning to use this pan since getting it for Christmas from Joms and Kat. Mornings, I would wake up and say to myself, "Today I will make bread in my new pan," only to have my plans derailed by, well, the stuff of my everyday life, such as laundry, dirty dishes, tantrums, etc. I kept meaning to do it, I started dreaming I was doing it. You know, in the manner of those dreams you get when you're too exhausted to get out of bed, you dream you're already getting out of bed?

Anyway, finally, yesterday, ignoring the ugly, overwhelming mess in the kitchen sink (and I am rarely able to do anything in the kitchen without first tackling the ugly mess in the sink), I went to work on that bread. And can I just say that I am so glad I did it, because if I had washed the dishes first, I wouldn't have been able to make that bread yesterday, which turned out to be the best plain white bread I have ever tasted in my life. Think very good quality store-bought sandwich bread, but creamier, fluffier and freshly-baked.

Yumi likes her bread without the crust.

Do you know that joke about this Filipino guy who walks in a bakery in New York looking for "tasty bread" and the baker, confused, tells him, "But all our breads are tasty!" Hahaha. Well, the American name for tasty bread is pullman loaf, and the French (ah, the French!) call it pain de mie. I like that: pain de mie. Sounds so sosi. Anyway, loosely translated, that's bread of crumb in English. This type of bread, usually made with white flour and enriched with milk, oil and/or eggs, is baked in a lidded bread pan, which produces a fine, moist crumb, and a soft, thin crust.

I feel so very pleased because I had no trouble at all making this bread, though it was the first time I tried the recipe (which I tweaked because it called for the use of a stand mixer, which I don't own) and the first time I ever used a covered bread pan. I think I've finally learned the right way to handle bread dough, also I believe it helped that the pullman loaf pan I own is of excellent quality. I ended up making two loaves yesterday.

(They're both gone now, by the way.)

Pain de Mie

1 cup warm water
2 tbsp half & half, room temperature
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tsp active dry yeast
2 tbsp sugar
3 1/4 cups bread flour
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup milk powder

1. In a large bowl, mix together water, half & half and olive oil. Sprinkle dry yeast over the mixture and stir. Add sugar. With a spatula, mix in two cups of flour, followed by salt and milk powder, and the third cup of flour.

2. Once the dough starts to come together, turn it out on a floured surface. Knead in the remaining 1/4 cup of flour until the dough is smooth and elastic, around 5 minutes.

3. Shape the dough into a ball. Lightly oil the bowl you were using and place dough in it (coating the dough's surface with oil as well), smooth side up. Cover tightly with plastic film and let rise for 1 to 1-1/2 hours.

4. After the first rising, punch down the dough and knead it lightly to get rid of any air bubbles. Flatten the dough into an oval and roll it tightly into a cylinder.

5. Grease a 9x4x4 inch bread pan and lid. Ease the dough into the pan. Cover with plastic film and let rise for another hour, or until the dough rises to 1/2 inch below the top of the pan. Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees F.

6. Slide the lid on the bread pan and bake in the oven with the lid on for 20 minutes. Remove the lid and bake for another 15 minutes.

7. Remove the bread from the pan immediately after baking. Cool on a wire rack. Allow to cool for an hour before slicing.

the first monday of 2011

2011-01-03T08:53:00.000-08:00

and I woke up late. I shouldn't have gone back to sleep when I saw that it was 6:59. I thought I could sneak in 15 minutes more of sleep. Turns out my holiday-exhausted and abnormal-sleep-pattern-prone body will not settle for 15 minutes more of sleep, and I instead woke up with a start at 8:05. The kids needed to be in school by 8:05. It didn't help that Asha wouldn't cooperate and so I left her for Imo to deal with. I drove just Nacho to school, in my pj's, with last night's makeup on my face. It was cold and raining outside.

Of course, tomorrow morning will be better. This is what I always vow to myself after dealing with a bad morning. A lot like what I am vowing to myself now (or more like hoping for) after dealing with a bad 2010. Now that it's passed, can I just say that 2010 was cruel. I tried to make it less so, but, god, was it cruel. Come to think of it, we are still pretty much in the same state we were in last year, so it still pretty much feels like 2010 isn't over. Except that it is.

Oh I know that a "new year" is merely symbolic. I realize this: that there is no real actual beginning of a new period in time. I mean, if the numbers didn't change (in a calendar that somebody invented for convenience sake), today is, in reality, just a continuation of the days before it, and what separates December 31st from January 1st is entirely imaginary. BUT I will not think of it that way. I am grateful for the symbolism of a new year. I am grateful that we celebrate it: a different year with a whole new set of potentials, and therefore we can hope that it will be kinder to us, we can hope that it will bring better things.

holiday cheer, after all

2010-12-24T16:38:00.000-08:00

The sun finally came out yesterday. The San Bernardino Mountains in the distance are covered in snow. All (but one that arrived in the mail today!) presents are wrapped. The Christmas Song is playing on the iPod. Red velvet cake is baking in the oven. Tonight, Noche Buena at the Perez/Buenaventuras'. I hope your holidays are merry! As ours are, after all.

this holiday season

2010-12-20T22:45:00.000-08:00

let me remember that happiness is being able to count my blessings no matter the frustrations and the heartaches, and realizing that I have plenty, plenty to be thankful for.

when it was sunny

2010-12-20T01:49:00.000-08:00

These pictures were taken around our beloved South Pas a few days before the rain started. Just a few days ago, it was sunny and green (with just a little bit of orange/red/gold) in these parts despite it being already the middle of December.

It's been raining now for days. Cold, miserable rain. And the weather report says that it will continue on till Wednesday. So I am looking at these pictures because, already, I need a break from all the gray.

The first photo is of that part of Orange Grove where all the big old houses are. The second one is of the entrance to the charming bed and breakfast that's in that part of Orange Grove; Bissell House is in fact an old Victorian mansion that's been standing there since 1887, and one of these days, when we have the money to spend leisurely on charming bed and breakfast inns, Imo and I will spend a night there. The third photo is of a fiery maple tree alongside summery palm trees, and that's precisely what the foliage is like in the winter here in Southern California.

Anyway, here's hoping that the sun will come out again soon.

they waited so long

2010-12-18T23:05:00.000-08:00

and now she's here!

Sweet baby cousin Olivia (a.k.a. Hamburger Siopao Girl with Frequent Hiccups and Occasional Air Monsters) is finally home from the hospital.

And she lives right across the street too. How lucky are we?

suddenly, december

2010-12-12T02:31:00.000-08:00

We went and got a tree yesterday. We decorated it while listening to Christmas songs and eating cookies and drinking eggnog (I spiked mine with bourbon and thought that maybe, just maybe, it will finally start to feel like Christmas around here).

sunday after thanksgiving, 5pm

2010-11-28T16:58:00.000-08:00

Outside --

chilly and quiet.

Inside --

warm and relatively quiet.

I shall go and make myself a cup of moka coffee.

trees

2010-11-23T23:59:00.001-08:00

Ah, SoCal in November.

breakfast date

2010-11-22T17:19:00.000-08:00

I seriously thought that with Yumi going to school now, I would finally get to have a crazy amount of free time. (That's two mornings a week, and if you are like me, that sounds like a crazy amount of free time. To sew, to read, to write, to go out, the possibilities endless!) Except that it isn't. Haha, who am I kidding? Sometimes I am so shocked by the reality of having two whole hours to myself, just the stopping and letting it sink in takes a good half-hour. And then, the tidying up the apartment and being so pleased to not have anyone mess it up the second I am done, that takes another half-hour. And then, before I know it, it's time to pick up the girls from school. So much for sewing. Or reading, or writing, or going out. Bwahaha.

Oh but a few days ago, there was time for a breakfast date with Imo. I was going to clean the apartment and then fix us some breakfast at home, but he had the good sense to stop me and suggest that we go out, just the two of us, something that we are rarely able to do.

We went to Nicole's, on El Centro St. and had coffee (Imo) and cappuccino (me), toast with butter, jam and honey, and a smoked salmon and goat cheese omelet. Breakfast in itself is already a good thing, but a quiet, leisurely one, al fresco, at a quaint neighborhood cafe, was a real treat on an otherwise ordinary Tuesday morning, and, if you're like me, a wonderfully productive use of one's free time.

some sundays are better than others

2010-11-14T22:57:00.000-08:00

Not this one. It was borderline blah and terrible. Asha had a day-long tantrum. I cleaned the apartment after what felt like weeks of not cleaning it. Imo took Nacho to the soccer grad series evaluations. Yumi was constantly needy. I made dinner at 5 p.m., just as the boys got home. I thought we could all wind down early. But the children refused to clean up and go to bed until 10 p.m. We were all at each other's throats.

But now everyone but me is asleep. It's only a little past 11 p.m.; there's probably time to make bread for eating tomorrow morning. And I am looking at this picture, which I took right after I was done cleaning, because I am a dork like that. Oh to make a moment of order and peace that will not last forever, last forever.

(Look at my immaculate floors! Except someone had already stepped on the floor pillows I had just fluffed. See what I mean?)

what i found:

2010-11-10T00:15:00.000-08:00

Two vintage tablecloths -- one made of linen, the other I believe a cotton-linen blend -- in great condition. Both beautifully hand-embroidered.

The vendor was starting to pack up when I spotted them (in a pile of tangled tablecloths). I pulled them out and spread them out to take a closer look. It didn't matter that they were small for our table, I fell in love, and quickly braced myself for heartbreak when I asked how much she'd sell them to me for. (On the last flea market trip before this one, I had found a similar linen tablecloth in a slightly bigger size. It cost $100.)

She gave both of them to me for $13. Oh the happiness!

And now to plan a nice family dinner. Or two.

flea market sunday

2010-11-09T00:00:00.000-08:00

I have a major case of nostalgia.

Imo calls it my "phantom memories" because many of the things I feel affection for are things not from my own time, that is, not originally from my own growing-up past. I was born in the 70's and remember the 80's and the 90's well -- I watched old-school Sesame Street (before Elmo moved in and took over), played Pacman (not Manny) and Astroblast on the Atari as a kid, and loved Nirvana and my Doc Martens as a teenager -- but what I have developed a greater fondness and longing for in my adulthood is an assortment of things that comes not from this later part of the twentieth century, but the earlier part (and maybe even older): dainty teacups with flowers painted on them, embroidered linens and handkerchiefs, heavy typewriters and sewing machines, phonographs and rotary phones, vintage Barbie dolls and tin lunchboxes and rusty toy wagons, mason jars and milk bottles, antique wooden furniture, hundred-year-old houses, jazz music (John Coltraine, Sarah Vaughan, Ella Fitzgerald), black and white movies where Gloria Romero was a young woman, oh I could go on!

I don't know where it comes from or how it started. (My romanticized theory is that the obsession comes from being my father's daughter -- he was born in 1921, which means I should've been born a generation earlier than Gen X.) But I do remember being eight years old and loving the cover art and illustrations in my oldest -- handed-down, hardbound, yellowing and slightly musty smelling -- Nancy Drew books (I didn't care for the later versions). I remember spending hours in the periodicals section of the grade school library in St. Scho, poring over old issues of Young Miss magazine from the 1950's. (They were bound together in volumes, and there were shelves of them. Already, at eleven years old, this was to me a thrilling little discovery.) So I suppose then it doesn't come as a surprise that these days I feel that no other TV series is as brilliant as Mad Men, and that antique stores and flea markets are heaven.

Haha, all of that to say that last Sunday, I went to the PCC flea market with Imo and Mutya and had a fabulous time. Though it was admittedly overwhelming (so much stuff!) and not cheap, I thought it infinitely comforting to be surrounded by old things.

I didn't get to buy a lot of stuff, but I did come home with two beautiful finds, which I will share with you here tomorrow. :)

when life gives you overripe bananas

2010-11-08T00:01:00.000-08:00

make banana cake.

Not banana muffins or banana bread this time, but banana cake. I found the recipe here (though I believe I squeezed more than two teaspoons of lemon juice on my mashed bananas, and used crushed almonds instead of walnuts because that's what I had in the fridge). I frosted it with my go-to recipe for cream cheese frosting, the kind that I always use on my red velvet cake.

Cream Cheese Frosting

1 8-oz. tub/block cream cheese, room temperature
3/4 cup confectioner's sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup heavy whipping cream

Beat cream cheese until smooth. Add confectioner's sugar and vanilla extract and mix until smooth. Add whipping cream and whisk with an electric mixer until stiff peaks form. This recipe is so forgiving, you may adjust the frosting's sweetness and thickness by adding more sugar and/or whipping cream to suit your taste.

Anyway, the cake was delicious. Definitely something to add to my repertoire of home-baked goodies. (I have a repertoire!)

light

2010-11-07T01:11:00.000-07:00

I've come to know very well how the light moves in this apartment. It changes in each room, and with each season. But always the children's room, the kitchen and the patio are brightest in the morning, and come afternoon, the light turns blue and almost silver. Sometimes when I am lucky, I get to capture that light with my camera. Such as in this photo of our patio one recent afternoon.

music to my ears

2010-11-06T00:26:00.000-07:00

I am not particularly fond of making lunch. (If I can get away with microwaving something or assembling a sandwich or peeling a banana, I will do it.) But when Asha and Yumi ask for sushi, it's like music to my ears.

(It helps to have sushi seasoning, nori and bonito furikake in the pantry. And leftover rice in the rice cooker.)