In my mind, I'm five years old having a high old time wandering and wondering. In reality, I'm now in my late 60s, wowza! I tell you a lot of creativity is still to be found in this old young self. In you, too, whatever your age. Welcome to my barefoot world!
On the afternoon that the Mama died, the Husband, Long-time Friend Kathy, Molly the Cat, and I sat on the patio and ate our lunch. The Mama's apple tree and her butterfly bush gave us shade from the warm Spring sun. The sky was blue. The Mama's roses, daisies, and other flowers were in bloom. The birds serenaded us. The Mama's bedroom window faced the backyard. I like to think that she could see, smell, and hear the day as we did and that she enjoyed listening to our relaxed cadences and tones. At one point I leaned back in my chair and gazed at the sky. A crow was lazily flying back and forth. It was like a photo, the crow framed by the foliage of the Mama's trees and bushes. As I watched the bird, I felt like I could see the Mama's spirit flying up towards the crow and dancing alongside it. When I finally looked away, I saw a white butterfly fly out of the Mama's garden by the rose bushes. That was the first white butterfly I saw that day, which, eve
Hello Dear Readers and Blogging Friends, Thank you for your notes full of concern and love during my absence. Molly the Cat, the Husband, and I appreciate each and every one of you. I believe the Mama's spirit does, too. Yes, it's true. I'm sorry to say that the Mama is no longer with us. She left her aged, tired body behind on April 1, 2016 and is now soaring freely and, I verily hope, peacefully and happily through eternity. So for today's post I give you the Mama's obituary, which I'm linking with the letter O at ABC Wednesday . Please be sure to check out this weekly meme begun by Mrs. Denise Nesbitt and administered today by Roger Green and his ABCW team. Frances Domingo Echaore lived to the grand old age of 94. Hollister was her first and only home in the United States, having immigrated from the Philippines nearly 67 years ago with her one-year-old son to reunite with her husband, the late Santiago Echaore. Born Francisca DeGuzman Domingo,
We are on a new adventure—the Mama, Molly the Cat, the Husband, and I. The Mama's body is failing. Thank goodness, her spirit is not. She's stubborn. That's a positive. Yesterday afternoon, she faced reality. She fell! "You need to use the walker," I exclaimed. "No! The dead people used it," she said, referring to the walker gathering dust in the garage. She used it once upon a time when she was healing from a broken hip. Somewhere along the line she let a friend borrowed it, which his wife returned after he died. "We will get you another one," I said. It was 5 o'clock in the afternoon. Fortunately, for us, we found a bare-basic walker, without the sparkles and whistles, at the pharmacy. Thankfully for us, the Mama allowed herself to use the walker. I loved that at one point, as she slowly made her way down the hallway, she stamped her feet and scolded her legs for not working with her. Last night, Molly the Cat gave the M
I'm participating in a new meme called Friday's Hunt , which is hosted by Teresa of Eden Hills . You can link up until Sunday, in case you're wondering if I know what day it is. If you'd like to join in and/or check out other participants, click here (after you read my post, I hope.) A is for Artichokes I'm used to seeing fields of artichokes near the coast. So, it's very strange to see them growing in our area, which is about 40 mile from the coast. I wonder if the artichokes taste any different. Week's Favorite Yesterday, the Husband, the Mama, Molly the Cat, and I received a trés cool gift from Cousin Kuting (which means tiny and cute in Ilocano). It's a large sturdy canvas bag perfect for everything that needs being carried. Molly the Cat sniffed it, which I take to mean that perhaps if need be she would jump into it and be smuggled into somewhere that we need to be secretive about. But, that's not the neatest part about the bag
I love handcrafted gifts. This Christmas I received one of the most amazing, beautiful handcrafted gifts ever—a quilt by Sister-in-Law Carleen. Isn't it gorgeous?! The pattern is trés cool. The photograph doesn't do justice to the the bright and contrasting colors of yellow, green, purple, turquoise, and bits of bright blue. Carleen used a tropical theme because, she said, I was a tropical gal. I totally like that. Needless to say, but I shall anyway, this Carleen original warms my heart big time and many times over! I'm sharing this post with Warm Heart Wednesday , a new weekly meme hosted by the amazing Jenny Matlock. Yes, yes, I know it's Saturday. :-)
Lately, I find myself whispering, "I'm an old person." I snicker. I chuckle. I laugh out loud. I shake my head. Am I not dreaming? I shake my head. I am in awe that I'm actually old. I shrug it off. I put it in perspective. The Mama is over 30 years older than me. And, you know where she is right now. Playing in her garden.
We will celebrate the Mama's 90+4 birthday by eating chicken feet, fried shrimp with heads, chow mein, sesame balls, and whatever else suits the Mama's fancy, while we watch Shirley Temple movies. And, when she says "Let's take a break," she will probably go into her garden and plant a few flowers. I love the Mama. I am sharing the Mama with Our World Tuesday .
My ABC Wednesday theme: The Mama and Her Authentic Green Thumbs. . .and Fingers In the Mama's language of Ilocano, the word inang means mother. This photo is the Inang of the Mama when she was 70 years old or so. The last time the Mama saw her Inang was in October 1949, just before she sailed with the one-year old Only and Older Bionic Brother from the Philippines for the United States. The two were heading onward to their new lives with the Daddy, who was already living in their new home. I think it's fascinating that the Inang of the Mama signed that photo in 1971 to her daughter not as Inang Mo (your mother) but by her first name Emeteria . That to me is very forward thinking for a woman of the Filipino culture of her generation, which makes me very proud. Having never met the Inang of the Mama, I do not think of her as lola (the Ilocano word for grandmother), but as the bright, beautiful, and bold woman Emeteria. To know a little something about Emeteria