This week has been one of delight when it comes to flowers. One of the Mama's orchids has a blossom. I only noticed the flower over the past weekend. I truly was going la, la, la when I've been watering the orchid pots. Oh well, makes for a nice surprise. Aren't the orchid's colors gorgeous? The Husband's bicycle has almost the same color of green.   Sigh. I miss pedaling around on Tilda-Hilda, my sweet pink cruiser. The ornamental pear tree is in full bloom. This is the second year that the tree's branches are in synch with their flowers. Until last year, it could've been October, December, March, June, or whenever a branch felt like showing off its blooms. I'm happy with whatever it wants to do. On Valentine's Day, I sowed a large packet full of seeds that when in bloom will attract butterflies and hummingbirds. I threw the seeds in that old drawer (in the photo) and in that space in front of it. I put branches and twigs on top of

With all the current churning of evilness in our country's leadership, we need to take time every day to look for the wonder, the beauty, the eloquence, and the love in our lives and our environment. Call me simple, if you like. Doesn't matter. I have faith that we shall get positiveness, common sense, and humanity back in power again. It's the letter E at ABC Wednesday . To check out ABCW posts from bloggers around the world, please click here . Thanks ABCW Team!

It's the letter D at ABC Wednesday . My share is a post that I originally published on April 11, 2014. To check out ABCW posts from bloggers around the world, please click here . Thanks ABCW Team! Because I was born 10 days after the cut-off date for first graders, I was sent home on the third day of school. Fine. The Mama had her hands full caring for Baby Sister and figuring out the new house that we had moved into about a week before school started. That meant I got to go with the Daddy for part of the day. Great!   The Daddy irrigated the rows upon rows of crops on the valley floor. During his morning break, the Daddy came home to fetch me. I'd get in the car with my Golden Books, coloring books, and crayons and down the hill we would go. While the Daddy worked, I entertained myself with my books and when that became tiring, I'd wander and explore, but never too far from the car and always where the Daddy could see me. We'd go home for lunch and

Bold, bright, brilliant, yet tranquil, joyful, and sensual. . . C O L O R ! ! ! That's what I need to see a lot more.  The Mama put it this way , as she planted more flowers in her crowded boxes: "I like flowers. Lots of flowers."  B y the way , th at cluster of the Mama's pink roses are hanging out in the backyard. They don't seem to mind our cold wet winter . Thank goodness! It's the letter C at ABC Wednesday , a fun meme with participants from around the world. Want to join in or check out other C posts?  Then please click here .  Thank you, ABCW team!

The banana plant reminds me of Don Quixote fighting at the windmills. Don't you think? This Banana Quixote attacks the apple tree branches. By now, the Mama's banana grove ought to be pruned back. The rain and the muddy ground have kept me from doing the job. When it's not raining, the temperatures have been in the 30s in the early mornings. I was going to say that's cold for us, but that's only because we forget from one winter to the next. Anyway, this year I've learned that icy temperatures burn the banana fronds dry, just like not watering would. Interesting, huh? Click here to see what the grove looks like the rest of the year.  It's the letter B on ABC Wednesday . Click here to join in and/or check out the other participants of the weekly meme.  Thank you, ABCW team!

So, what did you think about when you read the letter A ? The Scarlet Letter ?  Alvin from the Chipmunks? "A-a-a-a-a" as in the Fonzie's? Nope. You get no analyzing from me about your answer. Mine, you ask? Avocados. That's because an avocado fell from our tree during the amazing storm this past weekend. Most of the fruit are at the top, which surprised me. I didn't think we'd have much of a crop because of the big one last year.  But nearly every time I looked at the avocado tree, and it was infrequent, I found another hidden among the leaves. Trés cool. I read that avocados start ripening once they're picked and that the best place to store avocados is on their tree. In two or three days, the avocado may be ready to eat. Maybe four days. If so, our feasting on avocados begin. Once all the avocados are harvested, we'll lop off the top branches. The Mama taught me to prune high in the tree so that the fruits would grow low on the tree

"No, thank you. Zabaglione is not for me," said Molly the Cat. Very politely too. Missy waited patiently by her little table. That's one of the ways she lets us know that she's ready for a meal. Yup. Our darling spoiled feline has a table, which is actually a small cheese board, placed sweetly upon a placemat. Molly likes to keep a few of her balls nearby. Zort, as Pinky of "Pinky and the Brain" would say. It's the letter Z at ABC Wednesday . Another end of a round, thank you very much ABCW team. Want to join in and/or check out the other Z participants?  Click here then. 

"I'm going to make bibingka," I said on Christmas morning. "Do you know how to make bibingka?" asked the Husband.  The Husband forgot that I've baked this Filipino dessert a few times before. Of course it was easy for him to forget since the Mama liked to make this cake treat nearly every Christmas and for any day she deemed special.  I don't know if I'll carry on the Mama's annual holiday tradition. It simply felt good to have some kind of warm sweetness enveloping the house on Christmas morning. The tradition I will carry on is the Mama's like to experiment with recipes. I read a recipe for pumpkin mochi which I thought would translate quite well into pumpkin bibingka. Both recipes use sweet rice flour rather than wheat flour. Instead of condensed milk, I used a combination of coconut milk and lactose-free whole milk. I'd give you the recipe but I modified it as I was going and you know how that goes. The result turned out pr

Do you ever see faces in rocks? The alphabet in landscapes? Spaces that look like they could be portals into another dimension? Me too. Merry Xmas! Happy Holidays! Be Happy! I'm happily linking up with ABC Wednesday. Please click here to check out the other participants and/or to join in.  Thank you, ABCW Team !

The Husband and I wandered about the country roads yesterday afternoon for my birthday treat. Our first stop was at the small old church in Tres Pinos, California, population nearly 500. (These links will lead you to my posts about the church and town , if you're interested in know about them.) We happened to be in luck. The church doors were open.  I'm not a churchgoer, but I find comfort sitting inside this church every so often. Maybe it's because I was baptized there. As always, I enjoyed contemplating over the stained glass windows. They are eloquent in their simplicity. They are poetry. It's the letter W at ABC Wednesday. Click here to join in, or to check out other participants. Thank you, ABCW team!

This morning I thought today was the letter W on ABC Wednesday . What shall I do? I wondered. Then it dawned on me that today is December 7 -- Pearl Harbor Day. I can repost the War! piece I wrote several years ago about my parents's experiences on that day in 1941. Yes, that's what I would do later when I had a chance. An hour ago was my opportunity to do my post. Whoops. It's actually the letter V. I thought vice, viceroy, vicious, villain, vile and all kinds of v words that had me thinking of our new President-elect and his , shudder , proposed advisors and cabinet secretaries. Vleahhh. I decided you would prefer to see something pretty. So, here you go—the Mama's flowers in the front of the house. They are in bloom this moment. I don't know how long they'll last. It's starting to get quite chilly. To check out other participants in ABCW, please click here . Thank you, ABCW team!

"We can't store the persimmons in the garage," I said to the Mama and the Husband at the lunch table one day. "There's an uh-toot ." The Mama laughed. "What's that?" the Husband asked. "A mouse," I said. Most likely I shuddered. Rodents give me the creeps.  " Uh-toot in Ilocano means mouse. Right, Mama?" " Uh-taut ," said Mama. "You have a funny pronunciation." " Uh-toot ," I said. " Uh-taut ." " Uh-toot ," said the Husband. "She's saying the same thing." The Mama smiled. " Uh-toot ," I said. "Be careful. If you say Ah-toot , you're talking about a fart." That conversation happened a few years back. Recently, I learned that the Ilocano word for mouse is bau , which I never heard the Mama or the Daddy use. I also found out that the spelling for fart is o-t-o-t.  The Mama considered mice as farts. Giggle. Toda

Trieste is the name of the street I live on. The Husband pronounces Trieste as Tree-est . The Mama used to say Trees-tay. I like to say Tree-es-tay . Molly the Cat simply says Mwrr. Today, I found out that I was wrong about what trieste means. I thought it meant sad. In Italian, which is the word's origin, trieste means market place. (Italians pronouce the word as tree-es-tay .) According to Wiktionary.org, trieste is from the Latin word tergeste , which comes from Venetic, a once-upon-a-time language in the long-time-ago region of Veneto. I love the idea that we live on Trieste, a market place. I shall now imagine myself selling, trading, and giving away the creations of my heart. They may be words, images, and things out of stuff. Hmmmm. When I was a young thing living in San Francisco I wanted to be a street artist when I grew up, but I had no idea what I could sell as I had no artistry of any kind. That's what I thought then. Things are different now. I have the t

Wowza! I planned on writing something serious today about current events, but then I received wonderful news this morning that I want to share. It was the first email message I saw when I opened my mailbox.  Giggle, giggle. First some background.  Are you familiar with the Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes series by Laurie R. King? This is one of the few series that I keep up with. In a nutshell, in case you're not, Mary, the wife of Sherlock, is the main character in the series. Mary goes from being Sherlock's apprentice to his equal partner in marriage and detection.  Together, they resolve situations for clients and Sherlock's brother who is in the deepest of deep English intelligence, as well as for themselves. The time frame for their adventures is the late 1910s and 1920s. For more about the series, click here . So, what's my news?  Last month I entered that drawing above of Mary and Sherlock on a hillside in Laurie R. King recent fan art contest. It

Once upon a time when I was young, I needed to have a car insurance adjuster give me an estimate on the damage done to the car I was driving at the time. I no longer recall what the damage was and how the car got damaged, which makes me think that some one thumped or scraped the car in a parking lot and drove away. Or, something similar that made a big enough of a dent for the Daddy to tell me to take it into an insurance office so that I can get it fixed. Immediately. Got it.  At the time I was a big girl working and living in San Francisco. Whoo-hooo! Very responsible I was, this big girl that I was. I even knew where to take the car, without looking it up in the phone book. Remember that book? Early one Saturday morning, a friend and I drove over to the State Farm Insurance Office near a mall south of the City. Easy peasy. I went into the office and told a guy what I needed. He picked up a clipboard, and, leading me back outside, asked, "Do you have your insurance ca

"You're a sweet cat," the Husband said. "I am not," said Molly the Cat. "Yes, you are." "I am not." "A very sweet kitty cat." "I am not! I'm a lion!"     "I'm a tiger!" "I'm a panther!"   "M-m-m-o-w-w-w-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!" "So there, Mister the Husband." Missy Molly by Golly and I are performing the letter P for ABC Wednesday . Giggle. Purrrrrrr.  Click here to visit more ABCW participants. Thank you, ABCW team!

"Are you ready?" "Me?" "Susan?" "Yup. That's me." I pushed myself off the bench and grabbed the Mama's cane. "Take your time," the X-ray lady said. "No hurry." "I finally think of myself as old," I said, trying not to grimace as I stiffly walked into the inner room of the X-ray laboratory. "Is that why you gasped when I gave you the form to sign?" the office lady asked, as I walked behind her desk. "I wondered what it was on the form that made you hesitate." "Seeing my age, yes," I said. "I don't think of myself as being that old. 62!" "I don't think of myself as old either," said the office lady, who may have been a few years younger than me. The X-ray lady, who looked to be in her late 40s  agreed as well.  I felt like the three of us gave a invisible collective sigh. Since the beginning of August I've been hobbling alon

Harvesting crops is hard back-breaking work. Every time I pass by a field of workers, I'm very grateful to them. How can anyone not want to give them a living wage? It wasn't until 1978 that farmworkers on large farms were finally included under the Fair Labor Standards Act, which required their employers to pay them minimum wage. Still, in some states today, farmers can choose to give their workers a piece-rate wage rather than a minimum hourly rate. It's not a high piece rate either.  For instance, if a worker receives 50 cents for every bucket of tomatoes she picks, she would need to pick about 2.5 tons of tomatoes to earn an equivalent minimum hourly wage for a 10-hour day. I think all states ought to mandate hourly wages for farmworkers. I've got a Mama story for you. She always laughed when she told me about her first year working in the fields of America. It was either the first or second year that she was living here, so that was 1950 or 1951. She decided

Scuff marks, cat tracks, and stains. I no longer could ignore it. The kitchen floor needed mopping. Because I am hopping along on a cane, the Husband agreed to mop the floor. (My knees are alternating between being painful.) All I had to do was fetch the tools—the bucket and mop handle out of the shed and the mop head out of the closet. Problem was we had no mop head. Sigh . Snap! Light bulb. I had the answer in my hand. The cane! The Mama's cane, actually. She rarely used it to get around. What she did use the cane a lot for was shining the kitchen floor. She threw a rag on the floor and danced it around with her cane. Yup. Like mother, like daughter. I dipped a rag in a bucket of vinegar, threw it on the kitchen floor, and danced it around the worse parts with the cane. Ha! I'm quite late this week for ABC Wednesday . As the saying goes, better late, than never. Which the latter I thought it would be for the letter M. Seeing the doctor about my knees this morning got

London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. London Bridge is falling down. My Fair Lady. In first grade, we sang this Mother Goose rhyme as we marched under an arch formed by the joined hands of two kids. The hands came down on "My Fair Lady" and the two kids would then rock the captured kid between their locked hands, as we sang a verse about taking the key and locking the kid up. When that verse was over, either the captured kid chose a side and stood behind that kid or took that kid's place, after which, we marched and sang the rhyme again. I don't remember what the point of the game was. For that matter, what the rhyme was all about. After three or four rounds, I would look longingly at the playground, even willing to climb up the jungle gym. And, that I disliked to do. I didn't become curious about the London Bridge until 1975 when I learned that a rich American had bought the bridge and reconstructed it brick by brick on Lake Havasu i