Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . Come August I shall be celebrating my 27th anniversary at my job. I doubt the Boss will give me a gift of money or even a lousy pen to show her appreciation. The Boss is cheap. Yeah, I said it. C-h-e-a-p. Cheap. But, then, you see, the Boss is me.  Like everyone else, I've had quite a few jobs during my life. Some jobs were temporary. I liked those. I knew when the ending would be. No fuss, no muss.  As for the jobs from which I resigned, okay, quit, I had gone as far I wanted and needed to go with them. Cutting apricots was my first paying job. It was also the first job I quit. I was nine years old. The job entailed cutting apricots in half, pulling out the pits, and laying them on a wooden tray bigger than a kitchen table. When the tray was filled neatly with halved apricots, it was placed out in the sun for the fruit to dry. I think I got 75 cents a tray.  Yeah, I know, a pittance. This was the early 1960

The letter P ! I crumpled up three ideas for that proud, pretty letter P . Figuratively, that is. I'm not going to crush my computer just because I don't like what I wrote in a Word file. What? You don't know what crumple is? Egad, I'm that old. Get a piece of scratch paper and write half a sentence. Now, scrunch up the paper. There, you've crumpled up an idea. Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . Anyway, the letter pah pah pah pah P . It's perfect that procrastinate starts with the letter P . Oh, and then there is perfect. . . . Perfect procrastination prances prickly for Poseiden. Huh? No, I'm not deleting that. This post has taken possession of my fingers upon the keyboard and clicking keys per its bidding. Anyone else like the combination of parsnips and potatoes? Okay, okay.  Third paragraph and I have yet to bring up a topic. Poor writing on my part. Perhaps. The other way for me—and you, dear readers—to look at

A couple weeks ago, some of us young "old fogeys" took our merry selves to the Black Diamond Mines Regional Preserve in Antioch, California, about 45 miles northeast of San Francisco. This park overlooks the Carquinez Strait, an estuary of the San Joaquin and Sacramento Rivers, which drains into the San Francisco Bay. It is a beautiful place to picnic, hike, and check out nature. Once upon a time, hundreds of millions of years ago, the area was under an ancient sea. And over millions upon millions of years, wondrously wonderful earth changes built up the sandstone hills as well as crushed living matter between layers of rock to form black diamonds. During the last half of the 19th century, the Black Diamond mines were the largest coal mines in California, and from the 1920s to the 1940s,  white silica sand was mined out of the sandstone hills for the Hazel-Atlas Glass Company in Oakland.   We, young "old fogeys" took a tour of the Hazel-Atlas Mine that aftern

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . No, I'm not talking about the store. Nor am I talking about the fake beach town that the company that owns the store imagined. Yes, folks, Hollister, California does exist. It is a small city in the middle of farmlands and nature. I was born and raised here. I graduated from the local high school, which has as a mascot a Haybaler, the farmer who bales hay, not the hay baling machine. While in high school, I wrote a newspaper column called...are you ready?... The Baling Wire . After a couple of years at the local community college, I transferred to San Francisco State University and lived in the City for many years. When the Husband and I got together, we lived in cities across the Bay until we move to Hollister. This summer will mark our 10th year living here and with the Mama. She is the reason we moved down. Do I miss living in a metropolis?  Only when I want to eat out, see a movie, or browse in a

The tree on the right is the Miracle Tree. If you look closely, you can see the Mama behind the rose bush. The First Husband gave the Mama a package of seeds that a Native American tribe had sent him as part of a fundraising campaign. Mama, always the curious horticulturist, sowed them in her backyard. From those seeds grew the Miracle Tree, which today is more than 20 years old. It would be monstrously huge  if the Mama did not cut it back nearly every year. She can't stand the idea of the branches hovering over the roof or even being near the gutters. No matter how much it gets hacked back in the late fall, its branches are full and ready to provide sufficient shade for the summer heat. During its early years, the Miracle Tree produced a lot of seed pods. Let me repeat: A lot of them. The seeds are flat and shiny and difficult to clean up once they're on the ground. Every year, Miracle Trees sprout some where new in the yard. Most times, the Mama pulls them out. T

Rhonda at Dizzy Stir   nominated me for the Liebster Award, which is making the rounds to participants in the April 2013 Blogging from A to Z  Challenge.  Thank you, Rhonda!  Like all blogging awards, the Liebster is a way to get readers to discover and explore other blogs that may interest them .  So, I truly appreciate your nomination, Dizzy Stir .  The Liebster Award The Liebster Award has been around since 201 0, and over the years the requirements have changed. That's to be expected.  I f you'r e interested in its origin, check out this link .  These are today's "rules" for accepting the awar d. I say "rules" because no one is required nor obligated to do a ny or all of the following steps to accept the award.  Post the award on her/his blog.  Thank the nominator and link back to his or her blog. W rite  11 random facts about yourself . Answer 11 questions about your self that the nominator has asked . Nomi nat e 11 fellow blog

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here .  I never heard the parents address each other by their names.  They also didn't refer to each other by name when they talked about the other. The Mama would just say lakai which was old man in Ilocano, while the Daddy would say baket for old lady. For many years, I wondered if they even loved each other. When I became curious about how they met, they said they had an arranged marriage. The Daddy said, "Your grandmother said she liked the daughter who lived next door for me. 'Okay,' I told her." The Mama said, "My mother said to marry your daddy. 'He's a good man. You're old. This may be your last chance to marry.'" Both the Mama and the Daddy lost their fathers at a young age. So, it was their mothers who met and discussed the terms of the dowry. Several weeks later, the Mama and the Daddy were married. It was not until I went to the Philippines with the Dad

C heck out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . This post was originally entitled "Talking About Sex with the Mama" and was published on June 18, 2010 on my previous blog, This and That. Here and There. Now, Sometimes Then . Yesterday the mama asked me to explain something she was reading in an AARP flyer. It was a short article about what a woman can do about vaginal dryness so that intercourse isn't so painful. Uh. The mama is a voracious reader. She likes to learn. Both things I didn't know until the husband and I became her roommates several years ago. English is not her primary language, and I would say on a scale of 1 to 10, her English reading comprehension is about a 4, more or less. She doesn't let complicated or unfamiliar words get her down. If she's interested in a story, she plows through it. If she's really interested in what words mean precisely, she asks me. So, she asked me.  Hoo boy.

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here .   Ready for a few jokes. Here's one I made up the other day. In what area of a community might you find dull horses? A neighhhh-bor(e)-hood Nyuck, nyuck, nyuck.  I've been editing this joke for a few years now. What was the American revolutionary's favorite poultry dish? Chicken Catch-a-Tory. Ba-dum Chinggg! The Husband likes this joke of mine. What a guy. Pablo and his tia were eating lunch at a Mexican restaurant. As his auntie was taking a bite into her burrito, Pablo noticed a rip in her sleeve. He pointed at the tear and said, "Tore, Tia? He-he.  Until tomorrow, dear readers.   

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . In 1985, I spent several days camping in Havasu Canyon with the First Husband-to-be. Havasu Canyon lies just outside of the western border of the Grand Canyon National Park.   The Havasu campground is on the Havasupai Indian Reservation and run by the Havasupai tribe. Havasupai means people of the green blue water.   Havasu Canyon is kno wn for its gorgeous waterfalls that run down to the Colorado River. And , yes, the pools of water were a spectacular green-blue color when we were there. I've seen photos on the Internet that show they stil l are. To get to the campground back then, you either flew in on a helicopter or h iked the winding 10-mile trail down to the canyon floor. I was (and still am) a slow walker, so the First Husband-to-be got to the campground office before me. The reservation was under my name so he and the office manager patiently waited for me to get there. The two men were talk

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . Uncle Frank was the Daddy's younger brother by three years. Both left their home in the Philippines when they were in their early 20s. The Daddy left first in 1928, going to Hawaii as a contracted sugar plantation laborer. Uncle Frank left a year later. He sold his carabao to make his fare for a ship to the United States. After a 28-day trip in third class with 250 other young Filipino men, Uncle Frank landed in Seattle.  During the late 1970s, I conducted and ta ped an oral history interview with Uncle F rank. The following is what he said about those first few years (1929-193 1) in America. During those early Depression years , h e traveled to different states to find work by hopping trains. Uncle Frank in the 1970s My ticket was from Philippines to California, but I got no more money so I find a job in Seattle. I saw an advertisement for thinning beets in Minnesota. I apply for the job. We went to

See the flowers outside. The Mama snips off dead blossoms every few days to make sure the flower bushes are bright and cheery for everyone to look at. And, Molly the Cat makes sure she sniffs them every time she is out there to show her appreciation. Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here .

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here .   The Mama and the Daddy immigrated to the United States from the Philippines, a country that is composed of more than 7,000 islands. So, it goes without saying (but I am anyway) that the archipelago has many distinct cultures that have their own languages.  Because of the islands position next to China and Southeast Asia, the islands were a stopping ground for traders, adventurers, and religious evangelists as they traveled east or west. Until the Spanish arrived in the archipelago in the 16th century, the indigenous peoples did not have the consonant F in their languages. When the Spanish began colonizing the islands in 1565, they introduced the Latin script as way of converting the native people to Catholicism. Yep, the good old sword and the cross shtick. One of the early Spanish explorers decided to name  Leyte and Samar Felipinas or Las islas Filipinas after their king,  Phillip II. Eventually, the Spanish

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants b y clicking here . The Loneliest Road in America truly sums up the stretch of U.S. Route 50 through ce ntral Nevada. I had no idea Nevad a had so many desert valleys until I drove this national highway.  You get over one mountain range and voila ! It's deja vu—a nother endless valley floor with a mountain range staring from afar. In the late 1980s, the First Husband and I decided to drive cross-country, from San Francisco to New York. However, the first day of our adventure began with a dental emergency and a pain that would eventually make itself known as cancer for the First Husband. After several days of checking with doctors, we got in our red Mazda pick-up truck and headed east, with an open mind that we would turn back at Denver if the First Husband did not feel well. I don't remember how we decided to take U.S. 50 rather than the more direct U.S. 80 through Nevada to Utah. Most likely it was the ro

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . A few months after the Daddy died, the Mama needed me to uncover the septic tanks in the back yard so that the service guys could come and clear them out. So, one weekend I drove down from San Francisco, where I lived at the time, to do her bidding. The Older and Only Brother lived a few minutes away from her, but she rarely bothered him with such tasks. "He's busy. He has to work on Saturdays. He has a family."  The day of digging was the same day that the Mama went to Reno with the local Filipino club. Her friends had convinced her to go. It would be a good change for her, they told her. I was very relieved that she would not be home. Back then we were always on tense terms. And, if I was doing physical work, it was best to leave me alone. There were two septic tanks in the Mama's backyard. I had no idea. I thought there was only one and I knew where it was. I dug out the tank just like that

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . "My dad was a carpenter." That phrase is frozen in my memory.  It was spoken by the Older and Only Brother. I don't recall what the event was or when it happened when I heard him say that. The Brother's choice of memory about the Daddy surprised me, because I don't think of the Daddy as a carpenter. The Daddy did build things. He built the tool shed and the shelters for the chickens, pigeons, pigs, goats, and occasional cow or two that he raised and butchered for our food at the far end of the backyard. We lived in the county, a couple miles away from the city limits, so he could do that.  But, the buildings that the Daddy constructed were not of the quality of ones built by professional carpenters.  I don't know if the Older and Only Brother ever helped him construct the buildings in the backyard. When we moved to that house, he was a teenager and always doing stuff for school or wo

The apricot tree had fewer blossoms than last year. "You pruned too much," said the Mama. Sigh. I needed to cut the low branches so I wouldn't get stabbed in the forehead or the Husband wouldn't get poked in the chest as we wandered through the ya rd while following Molly the Cat. I also wanted to clean up the tangle of branches now rathe r than later when it would be too difficult to do. I want to think the Mama understands all that. But, all she can think of right now is that we will have fewer apricots to eat this year . Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . " N ext year the tree will have a lot of blossoms , " I said . Sh e didn 't say a word.  We can o nly hope.