What if. . .   You Aren’t Here is a  destination restaurant in a hoedown punktown of a village. The entrance is the back door.  Seating is made up of curtained booths, maximum six, with covered peep holes for the show. Customers place their orders with masked waiters and waitresses wearing bullfighter outfits, sans capes, and old-fashioned roller skates.  When the booth bell chimes, the peep holes open to allow the customers to watch the show.  Before them are chefs and sous chefs and their crew swiftly and precisely julienning and butterflying, pounding and tenderizing, marinading and dressing,  tossing and turning, poaching and grilling, and so forth and so on in the restaurant’s clean and well-lit, state-of-the-art kitchen.   There! said the customers in whispers. That’s mine! 

Get Over Yourself Jump this high! Jump, we did. Jump higher, farther! No more. Done. ©️Susan Echaore-McDavid

I collected rose hips this winter, with thoughts to plant them and see if they would grow. Silly me thought I could and would remember what color of rose each bag of rose hips are. Oh well. I’m going to plant them anyway. I love surprises.

Acrylic paints and fabric scraps are what I used for this creation. First time playing with these materials. Definitely not the last.  It’s Art for Fun Friday  time. That’s where I’m heading. Come join me. :-)

  For Thursday 13 , I’m saying Hope  in 13 languages that are significant in some way to me. In my parents’ language, Ilokano, it is Namnama . In Tagalog, the national language of the Philippines, hope is Pag-asa . In Welsh, of which Ancestry.com says I am one percent, it is Gobaith . Besides English, these languages figured among the foreign traders, missionaries, immigrants, and colonizers who lived and worked in the Philippines during centuries past. Here’s how to say hope in these five lenguas: Harapan in Malay Amal’an  in Arabic Hi-bāng  in Hokkien Esperanza in Spanish Itxaropena  in Basque In Gaelic, hope is Dóchas . This language, both in Ireland and Scotland, was spoken by some of the Husband’s ancestors. The First Husband was of Korean ancestry; in his parents’ tongue, hope is  Huimang . Mana’olana is hope in Hawaiian and Speranza in Italian, which are two languages I simply like. And, lastly, hope in Ukranian is Spodivatysya ! For more Thursday 13 , click here .

Miao. What is it with that Lady, interrupting my rest with the click sound of that rectangle thing she now holds in front of her face? Miao. 

 I’ve always wanted to grow jasmine, and now I have two pots of the sweet scented plant. Did you know it’s part of the olive family? I just learned that. You’ll never know when that fact comes in handy, such as in a game of Jeopardy.   

Unlike the song, I’ll trust this day. Cheers!

Yesterday’s post was about our lack of napkins for our lunch with friends later that day.  I had written the post the day before (on Friday) with the problem resolved because I thought it was. Well… Come Saturday morning, I went to the closet to fetch a roll of paper towels. From the back of the closet, I pulled out the package of towels. So, I thought. Hello, toilet paper! Ugh. I could still sew seven napkins in time. Sure, you’re right, either the Husband or I could have driven to the store. Quite simple solution. Good fortune rang. It was good friend Missus H on the phone to see how things were and if I needed anything. “Do you have any napkins to spare?” She didn’t. They were using paper towels. “Could you please bring a roll?” She would, but if I liked she had purple and green napkins that she used for guest bath towels.  The green napkins were perfect with the feast of Fijian fritters, cilantro chutney curry chicken, coconut-creamed spinach, grilled shrimp, jasmine rice, boiled

We have no napkins.  And, friends are coming over this afternoon for a Fijian themed meal.  The Husband suggested we use paper towels. No, I said, besides we don’t have any. I have time to sew napkins. That was yesterday morning. By the time evening came, my body was too beat to do anything more. I’d spent the day prepping and cooking most of the dishes and cleaning up after myself.  It was a satisfying day. The Fijian curry chicken reminded me of Mama’s adobo chicken in her later years. She said she used tomato sauce. I didn’t believe her until today when I saw how two huge juicy tomatoes combined with onions, garlic, and spices created a rich red gravy. This, I apologize, only makes sense to me.   Back to the napkins. Last night  I brought up the subject again to  the Husband. I could call one of the friends to bring napkins. Do that, said the Husband. Then I thought if she doesn’t have napkins she’d have to stop at the store. How inconvenient.   “We can use paper towels,” I said.  

Here’s another collage card I made during my meanwhile, aka the covid19 lockdown, for a friend. I may not ever buy greeting cards again. :-) I’m linking up with a new meme today, Art for Fun Friday  hosted by poet Gillena Cox. 

Last August, I was trying to keep tabs on what I was eating so I dedicated a notebook for my food log. That lasted a week or so before the notebook became a place to note recipes I liked in books and on food sites and blogs. I actually wrote the recipes, the ingredient list precisely, the instructions in my own words.  And, what do you know: I really made the dishes. Here are 13 dishes that I’ll definitely make again, modifying as I go. “Quick-Fridge Pickles” from The Pickled Pantry by Andrea Chesman “Pan-fried Pork Chops” from Amusing Foodie  “Homemade Tomato Sauce” from Cook with Me by Alex Guarnaschelli “Easy Freeze Salsa” from Dogwoods and Dandelions “Seriously Fudgy Homemade Brownies” from Sally’s Baking Addiction   “Beef and Mushroom Stroganoff”    from Gimme Some Oven  “Cheesy Tomato Mozzarella Caprese Dip” from The Cookie Rookie  “Easy Paleo Lemon Curd” from Real Foods with Jessica   “English Onion Soup with Sage and Cheddar”, a James Oliver recipe at Food Network “Jasha Maroo

This morning I read a news article about Governor Braun of Indiana who expressed yesterday (Tuesday) that interracial marriage laws ought to be made at the state level. So, if a state decides to ban interracial marriages, well, okey-dokey with that. Of course, he didn’t say it precisely in those words. Several hours later, I read in another article, after much pushback and horror, from fellow Republicans (after all why would he care what non GOPs say ),  Braun said his answer was taken out of context and he wanted to assure everyone, he was not a racist.   Did you know that interracial marriage bans became a no-no nationwide in 1967 when the Supreme Court decided in the Loving vs. Virginia case that interracial marriage bans were unconstitutional? To some people, such as that Indiana governor, the Supreme Court was overstepping its role and legislating rather interpreting the laws for the common good. Tomatoe/tomahto. Missy Molly by Golly says the Husband and I are quite fortunate that

This cheery threesome showed up this morning. They brought pens, crayons, pencils, and water color paints to try out.  :-) A Happy Tuesday to you. 

Yay, the headboard is done! And, it’s only been over a week since I first wrote about starting the fabric decopauged headboard. Earlier last week the top and bottom foam boards warped and partly curled away from the wall. Was I bummed out! The Husband suggested thin nails and went searching for some in the garage. Nice guy.  Alas, the heads were too skinny which meant fun time at the hardware store. I came home with wire nails, along with yellow pansies and a jasmine plant.  The nails are working. So far. 

 Spring! Cheers, One and All! 

The ornamental pear tree in the front yard is more than 20 years old. The Husband planted it for Mama a few years before we moved in with her. Come this summer, we’ll have lived here 19 years.  Wow. Here’s what the tree looks like today when you stand beneath it and look up. Amazing!

 I am partial to the color orange these days. According to some people, orange represents joy, enthusiasm, creativity, and all sorts of things positive.  Sounds good to me. When nephew was four or so, he liked to take his stuffed cat with him everywhere. I sometimes frustrated him because I couldn’t understand what he said his friend’s name was. “Owen’s Cat” was what I heard. “No,” he replied. “Owen’s Cat.” Back and forth we went. I couldn’t get it. One day I happened to look closely at nephew’s stuffed cat as he said, “Owen’s Cat.” Oh. The cat was orange. Orange Cat! Auntie Susie was such a duh! These orange and yellow flowers have begun to multiply in the front yard. I like that. I think they’re called pot marigold also known as calendula. 

Yesterday, I went grocery shopping and was rather surprised how prices have soared since the last time I visited the store. It couldn’t be more than 10 days. Did I really see $12-something for aluminum foil? Ouch.  I’m participating in Thursday 13 .  Check it out. My 13 things today are the foods I like to keep on hand to create mish-mash dishes quickly.  garlic—fresh, dried, powder, and spring onions fresh or frozen tomatoes miso gochujang, a Korean chili paste rice pasta beans, especially garbanzos and black beans eggs kippers  linguisa frozen green peas cheeses, particularly sharp cheddar, mozzarella, and Monterey Jack

Petite. Resilient, strong, assured. Loving, generous, kind. Beautiful. Heart-felt chuckles and smiles. Lilac and grey plaids. Soft, colorful scarves.   Biko , a sweet rice dessert baked in lots of brown sugar and fresh coconut milk. That’s how I remember my godmother Magdalena Hafalia Sagun. Ninang Deling is what I called her.   Ninang means godmother in Ilocano. I had several godmothers growing up. I’ve always thought of Ninang Deling as number one godmother. She was part of my life for 36 years, from the moment I was lifted out of Mama’s womb. (I was a Caesarean birth, thank goodness for both Mama and me, a story for another day.) Ninang Deling  taught me to count in Ilocano. Four year old me recited, happily bouncing on the couch beside her, maysa, dua, tallo, uppat, lima, innem, pito, walo, siam, sangapulo . One to ten. After which, she’d point to the parts of her body, eye, ear,  mouth, arm, and so on as I identified them in Ilocano. Bounce, bounce, bounce. Magdelena Hafalia was