Photos for this week's Friday's Hunt , hosted by Teresa at Eden Hills , include: • Starts with T • Week's favorite • Evening   My favorite photo is of the three different types of tomato plants that are now residing together in my first veggie garden in a long time.  Meet Jo, Led Zeppelin, and Valerie, from left to right.  Jo is already sporting a tiny tomato. Yaay! Led Zeppelin is quite a survivor, having almost dried up. And, Valerie is a volunteer and quite a fuzzy gal. The three amigas are nightshade plants. Nightshade, evening. Close enough.    To join in on the fun and/or see what photos other participants are sharing, please click here . 

Until this past week, since April 8, the day after the Mama's funeral, all I wanted to do is sleep. Sleep, to catch up with not having slept. Sleep, to not think. Sleep. Tonight, sleeping takes a back seat to playing in Photoshop. The piece above is from the top left section of this photo. I'm linking up with this week's Creative Every Day , hosted by Leah Piken Kolidas. Thanks, Leah. Now, I'll go to sleep. Good morning, All.

The Husband and I are listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival , while I'm clicking on the keyboard. It was a fun morning. We drank freshly-brewed coffee and ate olive bread with butter and cheese, as well as finished the leftover berry strudel and custard tart that a friend brought over for dessert last night. The food and drink put me in a giddy mood. Still am.  I think the coffee was made from drunken beans. Yes, I do. As we got breakfast together, we wondered what to do today. We knew what we didn't want to do. And, so far I haven't done the laundry and the Husband hasn't cut the lawn. We thought of what we could do—maybe hike at the Pinnacles National Park, or drive over to Monterey, or go see a movie. We haven't done any of that either. I doubt we shall. We did some stuff this morning. The Husband brought in the garbage cans and cleaned Molly the Cat's litter box. I collected all of the Mama's artificial flowers around the house and washed them

"Does Manang have a rosary?" asked Helen, a friend of the Mama's. ( Manang is a term of endearment for a woman older than you. It means sister.) We were standing before the Mama's casket on her funeral day, waiting for it to be closed and taken to the church. "I can give you one," said Helen. "It's in her purse," I said, pointing to the blue cloth clutch embroidered with bright red and white flowers next to the Mama's body. It also held the Mama's favorite compact, which the Only and Older Brother gave her when he was 12 or 13, reddish-pink lipstick, two large scarves, and one or two other things that I no longer recall. I like to think the Mama's spirit might enjoy having them. "Did you break the rosary?" asked Helen. "Am I supposed to?" I asked, feeling a panic coming on. "Mama only told me not to put it in her hands." When I had researched about what Ilocanos do with rosary beads for the

Religious rituals throw me off guard. Do I adhere to them? Shall I disregard them? What would the Mama want? Today marks 40 days since the Mama scampered out of her body. I like to think she gave a big sigh of relief and smiled grandly at the Daddy who took her hand and they danced into eternity. The Mama did not have to sit around in some holding space just beyond reality for enough people to say the right amount of prayers to move her forward into heaven. It's not like how that guy who recited prayers at an auntie's rosary said, "Now we know that Sister's going to heaven, but we need to pray for her so that she can get a better seat next to Jesus."  Really! I made sure he did not recite the rosary for the Mama. When I was planning the Mama's funeral, one of her friends reminded me to get in touch with the church to request a nine-day novina for the Mama, which is nine straight days of praying for the Mama's soul after she has been buried. Yes, r