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Turn Right at the Xerox Machine

Check out other A to Z Challenge participants by clicking here . This post was originally written on September 23, 2010 and published on my previous blog, This and That. Here and There. Now, Sometimes Then. A Special 23rd Date Fourteen years ago, about the same time as I'm writing this, I'm getting food ready for the next day's festivity. Getting married to the husband, it was. Fourteen years ago, about an hour or so from now, I will have finally laid down beside a very anxious husband-to-be. He would be so anxious, he would not be able to sleep. And, that would mean I would not get to sleep. "We can still call it off," I will have said. "No, we can't," he will have replied. "Yes, we can." "No, we can't. People are coming." "We can call them up first thing in the morning." "No, we can't." "Yes, we can." "You've already made the food." "I ca

A Love Story

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

Teamwork

It takes being disconnected to the Internet to get me to finally write a post. Go figure. Yesterday evening—around 5:03 p.m. to be approximate—the Husband came into the bedroom where Molly T.K. Cat and I were taking a snooze. Well, Molly napped while I clicked the TV remote in search of a show that would invite sleep for a few minutes.  (Lack of sleep was finally making me feel yucky, for lack of ability to think of precise words.) "The modem is dead," announced the Husband. I was promptly alert and in a state of panic. How was I going to finish my last two assignments? How was I going to send them to the editor? How was I going to . . . you get the picture. The Husband and I went instantly into troubleshooting mode. The husband went back to his computer to play a tetris game (which allows him to think he says), and I went searching for a phone book. I called the computer shop where we bought the last modem. Unfortunately, the shop just closed. Bummer. When something as vit

Hanging with the Husband

© 2012 Su-sieee! Mac. All rights reserved.

The Two of Us

Several years ago, a bicycle repair guy asked the Husband and me, "Do you do everything together?" "Almost," one of us, and possibly both, said. "Both your bikes had a broken spoke in the rear wheel at the same spot," said the bicycle repair guy, shaking his head in what seemed like disbelief that that was possible. The husband and I have been pretty much with each other 24/7 for the past 13 years. It works. We've started walking for exercise again. We each follow our own pace, which means the husband is usually hundreds of feet ahead of me. Every so often he circles back to see how I'm doing, especially when I've lagged behind because I've stopped to take photos. © 2012 Su-sieee! Mac. All rights reserved. 

Stuff

Neither the Husband nor I are pack racks. Not much, that is. He still has one or two boxes of college textbooks, and I have a box, or two, of research from the mid-70s about Filipinos in the United States for a book idea that has been on the back burner since, well, at least 1979, the last time I was living full time in the hometown. I think we—the husband and I—have been very good about consolidating and downsizing our belongings since we moved in together way back when. I came with 40+ years of personal stuff, both single and married stuff, along with some of the pre-me things that belonged to the deceased husband.  He, the Husband, came with his 40+ years of personal stuff, both single and married stuff, along with some of the pre-him things that belonged to his deceased wife. I had lived in a one-bedroom apartment, while he had resided in a studio.  Together, we moved into a three-bedroom house with a big basement. Surprisingly, we had no problem filling in the space. Quickly,

Guess What It Is

Uh-hmm. Is that how you spell the sound of clearing one's voice?  Ah-hemmmm. This morning I was making the husband's side of the bed. Nah, I'm not the bedmaker. The husband was making up my side of the bed. That's how it was today. Tomorrow may be different. Anyway, I didn't see it right away. The white strand of something that was floating above the husband's side of the bed. When I did finally saw it, I climbed up on the bed and laid down beneath it. "Look, look," I said, then pretended to snore the husband's snore so the white strand floated upwardly. I did it a few times before he caught on. So, what did we do? We laughed for a long time. Wouldn't you? We decided that white strand wasn't there when he got up. He would've sheared it right off, as it was hanging quite, quite low over his side of the bed. Whatever made it had at least an hour to spin that thick strand of cobweb from the lamp to the top of the 2009 calendar that hangs

Standing On One Foot

Warning: This post is really about nothing. My first try was 9 seconds. My second try was 20-something seconds. My third try? Ah, a full minute. Pretty good for a heavy-set old lady balancing on one foot. My left foot, too. And, that isn't even my dominant side. "What are you doing over there?" asked the husband as he was washing the lunch dishes. "I'm seeing how long I can stand on one foot," I said, setting the timer on the refrigerator door. "Why?" he asked, not turning around. "Because you never know when our survival depends on me being able to balance on one foot." He laughed. Of course. I did, too. "When could that happen?" "Say a crook holds us hostage in a bank. He'll only let us go if an old lady can stand on one foot for five minutes." "Like that could happen," the husband said, rinsing the dishes. "You never know," I said. "I want to be ready for any event. There could be a Surv

Deeper into the Raging Aging Category

I believe that the husband and I have slipped into another level of the old rooty-toot fogeys. Friday, no Saturday, was food shopping day. I pulled into a space in the parking lot, opened the door, and saw what looked like sand-over-dried-crud on the ground. Sighing, I carefully placed my feet so as not to touch it and hauled my heavy self out of the car. "Yuck, dried vomit," I said. "Spilled drink," countered the husband. "It's all over here, too." I thought about moving the car, but let the moment past. I took out the grocery bags from the back seat and as I slammed the door I saw another one behind the passenger's seat. "Can you get that bag on your side, please?" The husband did, which meant first opening the front door, next unlocking the back door, and then fetching the bag with his bum arm.  Now flash forward about 25 minutes. After loading our bags into the trunk, the husband and I noticed the front passenger side door wide open.

Another Reason "Y" I Love The Husband

Today's letter is Y . For more Y posts, please click here . We could be walking, riding our bicycles, or driving down the way. "I need to take a picture," I announce. He does not yelp. Nor does he yawp. He waits patiently.  Yawn. He does now and then. He says he is just relaxed. I am so fortunate.

A Special 23rd Date

Fourteen years ago, about the same time as I'm writing this, I'm getting food ready for the next day's festivity. Getting married to the husband, it was. Fourteen years ago, about an hour or so from now, I will have finally laid down beside a very anxious husband-to-be. He would be so anxious, he would not be able to sleep. And, that would mean I would not get to sleep. "We can still call it off," I will have said. "No, we can't," he will have replied. "Yes, we can." "No, we can't. People are coming." "We can call them up first thing in the morning." "No, we can't." "Yes, we can." "You've already made the food." "I can put it in the freezer." "We don't have to get married," I will have said. "We already got the license," he will have replied. "Do you want to marry me?" "Yes, I do." "What's the problem?" "You

Another Joyous Day!

Dear Readers, HellooooooOooo! Did you miss me? Just kidding. I know you did. Just posting to say I'm back to posting. Today,  the husband and I are heading out to wander and celebrate another revolution around the sun for him. Whoo hoo! One, two, three, everyone: Happy Birthday to the Husband!!!!!  If you haven't checked out the husband's blog yet, here it is: Arrmac's Blog .  Before heading over, hope you enjoy the birthday song! Until later, Su-sieee! Mac

Simply Love

Frank Yoon (1920 to 1995)  My Lola Julia told me that the ideal man to marry is one who is twice your age plus seven years. I was pretty close with the first husband. He was 33 years older than me. Some people thought I married him so I could get a green card. The husband and I were/are both second generation Americans. Early in our marriage, we were in an emergency room  where a doctor asked the first husband if he was an actor or some kind of famous guy. Guess only actors and famous guys marry younger women. Of course, some people thought at first that the first husband was my dad. I liked to say that I had robbed the grandpa cradle. Ours was a marriage of love. That was all. We met at a party I gave and in the middle of it we left so I could show him my new red truck. I don't know why I did that. We found that we had a lot of things, beliefs, and values in common. We moved in together, then married. We hiked down the Grand Canyon, backpacked through the Sierras, and traveled her

Hair Status: 4 Months Later

The Husband. . . and the Me As you can see, the husband's and my hair (hairs?) are now back to being normally short. Click here to see our original state of baldness. As for that bald oval spot on the side of my head, it's almost hidden now without me even trying. But then I wasn't even trying when I didn't have enough hair to cover it. Check it out. That there is a natural comb-over. Any bets on how long the husband's and my hair (hairs?) will get by next January? Or, whose hair will be the longest? 

The Elephant Seals at Point Año Nuevo

Last Friday was the husband's and my fourth "23rd" date this year. Recap: Last Christmas, the husband and I gave ourselves a day each month to run away from everything.  We don't do much planning for the date other then determine our destination point the night before so we can tell the mama. We get up the next morning and take off. It's nice being spontaneous at least once a month. I  feel like we're courting each other again on these 23rd dates. This month's destination was Año Nuevo State Reserve on the coast to see the elephant seals. It's about 20 miles north of Santa Cruz. Since the 1970s, elephant seals go the  reserve's shore every winter to give birth to their babies. Once the cutie-pies are weaned, the adults swim off leaving the kids which wait until they have strength to take off. During the spring and summer, the elephant seals come back to Año Nuevo to molt. Last Friday, we saw both pups and molting adults laying about on the beache

Our February Present—Roaming Ancient Egypt

Tomorrow is our third "23rd" adventure. We're talking about heading to the Pinnacles National Monument to hike, to gaze at wildflowers, and, maybe, to see a condor. These "23rd" outings are the Christmas gifts the husband and I decided to give ourselves last year. Every 23rd of the month, no matter how busy and preoccupied we are, we take off for the day. Just him and me. In January, we took a long, meandering way to the beach. Here's the link , if you'd like to read about the day. Teaser: We got stopped by the coppers. In February, the husband and I decided to go to the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum in San Jose. It was a perfect rainy day to be inside checking out ancient relics from a dry region far far away.  The museum looks small but don't let that fool you. It has four galleries full of artifacts. Most were authentic, the rest replicas.   Let's say I was not underwhelmed. We got there in the early afternoon so we had to rush through the last

To a Bright Blooming Day!

I woke up to the sounds of doves cooing outside and the husband snoring next to me. Signs of a blooming bright day? Sure. Why not? Happy Valentine's Day, Dear Gentle Readers!

The Husband, the Momentary Cook

I'm the cook in my household. The husband is the dishwasher. Ever since we've been together, which is going on 15 years, I've been the cook. I was also the dishwasher, until the husband left his nine-to-five job. The husband becoming the dishwasher rates right up there with him not going down the path towards a heart attack, which he was bound if he hadn't left. I'm glad the husband doesn't mind washing dishes. He likes to say that he is a professional dishwasher. For one summer in his youth (a thousand years ago), he likes to remind me, he worked as a dishwasher at the Oregon Caves lodge. The husband says he can cook, but I'm still waiting for that yummy omelet he says he can make. This morning, I did get him to help me prepare tonight's dinner. My hands were all chickeny from cutting up a big ole chicken. Not wanting to wash my hands, I asked the husband to pull out a Pyrex container so I could soak some chicken parts in yogurt to make oven-friend

Where Romance Is

Where is the most romantic destination you have visited? I've come across this question several times during the last few days, both in print and online. Some publishers say that if I write about it in a minimum number of words (usually between 100 and 200) or less and it gets published, then they would send me money. Easy, right? Writing about something in so many words is no problem. I may ramble, but I can edit unmercifully when necessary. But coming up with a romantic place, which I assume also means with my honey, well that's a bit more difficult. Sure, there was that bed-and-breakfast on the Kona Coast, where a guy named "Dude" answered when I called about reservations, which made me wonder if we really should stay there. The same place where I lost the husband on the highway that first night. We were driving back from dinner. It was so dark, we couldn't find the B&B's driveway. After several passes up and down the highway, the husband got out of the

Taking Off for the Present

For our Christmas present, the husband and I decided that we would take at least one day off each month in 2010. That is, go on an adventure! Because we are so good at letting things slide, we designated the 23rd of every month to be The Day . As January 23 approached, I did wonder if the husband would remember. And when he did, I wondered if we would actually do it. It's not that we don't like adventures. It's just all that pre-planning stuff: What shall we do? Where shall we go? If it rains, what then? and so forth and so on. Neither of us felt like doing the research, and neither did. The night before, we thought about the last place we wanted to check out and that's where we chose to go— Marina State Beach on the Monterey peninsula. We woke up to a bright sunny morning. Couldn't ask for anything more after a week of rain. Well, OK. Doughnuts and coffee for breakfast and lunch at a Korean restaurant. Yum. No straight routes for us that day. If we had, we would&