This is what I saw in one of the Mexican grocery stores in town this morning. Hasta mañana.

Pretty pink hollyhock, isn't it? It's part of the second growth from Ninang Pat's hollyhocks. She cut the plants back last month. She was surprised to see more grow. Ninang Pat gave me some seeds for red hollyhocks. Hopefully, they'll grow for us. Ninang is the Ilocano word for Godmother. When I was baptized as a baby a long time ago, I had the good fortune of having six godparents—three ninangs and three ninongs (godfathers)—formally sponsor me. Informally, I had twelve godparents because the spouse of each godparent is also considered a godparent. But, actually, I had 9 or 10 godparents, because one or two of the ninongs were bachelors. Have I told you this before? With all those godparents, I was not spoiled with lots of gifts, although one bachelor ninong was very generous with candy when he came  to visit. Ah, the fattening of Susie. Ninang Pat is the last of my godparents. She married Ninong Pablo when I was three. For the longest time, I was confused

When you have much to do. Yup. Time flies. Fly, fly, time. Within the next six hours, I plan to do this: Finish the Husband's tunic. All I need to do is attach the sleeves and sides, then hem it up. Make an appetizer.  The Husband and I are going to a party tonight. Fun. Maybe I'll make cheesy olive balls. They're easy to make, but that means going to the store for olives and cheddar cheese. Put together a photo collage.  It's for a luncheon fundraiser tomorrow. I could probably do that after the party, if I print the photos beforehand. Yeah, that's the ticket. Get this post done.  I threw this in so I can feel like I'll have accomplished something once its published.  Always look for the positive, I say. Thank goodness, I finished reading my novel last night, otherwise I'd forget about doing these things I plan to do. Enchanted  August by Brenda Bowen.  Just like the title, the story was enchanting. I could go for either a cup of coffee o

The Mama was playing in the mud this morning. Her favorite thing to do. Okay, she was replanting  Filipino onions, which she does every several weeks. The Mama likes to say, "You cannot fool me." And that's what I say. The Mama cannot fool me. She's playing in the mud and she's having lots of fun out there. Yup, she's still out there as I'm writing this post. While the Mama was playing with her onions, Molly the Cat did her rounds of the backyard. She was late this morning. She sat on the chair, which was once the Mama's favorite chair, for the longest time after breakfast. The Mama asked her, "Are you sick, Molly?  Do you have a headache?" The Mama opened the back door and Molly the Cat jumped off the chair in no time. "Don't go far," said the Mama. I think Molly wanted her photo taken because she kept close to me while I was clicking away by the lemon tree. But, would she look prettily at the camera? Of course, n

Anyone else reminded of a young Marge Simpson? Or, maybe a Dr. Seuss character who has a long forehead and tall hairdo topped with a cute barrette?

I have more like 200+ things on my desk if I were to count individual papers and photographs. My desk was originally a kitchen table, which means chaos rules.  Though I think it's relatively neat at the moment. Okay, five things that are on my desk. Two seeds—an apricot pit and a lemon seed from fruit in our backyard. Well, there aren't any more apricots. The Mama, the Husband, and I happily ate them all. Molly the Cat turned her nose to them. A brown rubber lizard. I got it and several of its siblings more than 30 years ago. I gave the siblings away as trick gifts. Yes, I've scared people with the lizard. It doesn't have a name. I wonder if it would like to be called Buddy.  My address book that fits neatly in my purse, if I remember to bring it.  A paperweight that has a dandelion inside it. The Father-in-law gifted it to me long ago. Recipes for soft gingerbread cookies, lemon-poppy seed quick bread, and a friend's mom's recipe for Spanish rice.

When I was very young, I imagined that giants lived on the hills and mountains. Have I finally spotted one? It's time for The Weekend in Black and White , hosted by Dragonstar. Click here to find other participants.

In 1969  I saw a movie called If It's Tuesday, This Must be Belgium starring Suzanne Pleshette, who was a bus tour guide in Europe. I recall only two things about the movie. Pleshette's character fell in love with someone to whom she had an immediate disliking (of course) and one of the older American tourists took toilet fixtures from the hotels where they stayed as his souvenirs. I also remember wanting to become a tour guide after seeing the movie. So, what got me thinking about that movie? Well, it's Tuesday. I'm not in Belgium, but the Husband and I are about to drive over to Freedom (yes, there's such a town in California) to purchase cat food for Molly the Cat. What we will do for that cat. Big, BIG Waves Have you ever dreamed of ocean waves higher than the tallest buildings in your town coming towards you? I had one of those dreams a couple nights ago. The waves came in two or three times. Each time, I was able to find shelter and hang on.  One of t

Don't Slam the Door! by Su- sieee! Mac S-L-A-M !!   “ALESSA!”   “I’m sorry, Ma,” said the tiny young girl. “I forgot.”   “One of these days, Alessa, something terribly awful will happen when you slam that door,” said her mom.   “Yes, Mom,” Alessa said, thinking that was just too silly of an idea. Still, it did frighten Alessa a little and she stopped slamming the door.  Then, one day she forgot. S-L-A-M !! The building shook. Things tumbled off the shelves and walls. The trees and the houses rocked and rolled. The bridges collapsed. The roads crumbled. The cities fell apart. The water in the bay shook.   The mountain tops blew off.   All over the world, the crusts moved and shook and sunk and rose. The earth spun off its wobble. It bumped into the moon, next into Mars, and then into Jupiter. Earth bounced back towards the sun, sucking up all the other planets of the solar system. The sun and all the planets exploded and swirled into a swirl, swirling, swir

The greatest thing that happened this past week was Rainy Thursday. It rained throughout the day and night. And, at one point, it came down in buckets. Of course, I had to go outside and take photos. I got totally drenched, and loved every huge raindrop that my tee-shirt absorbed. The Mama loved the rain, too. She was outside when the rain started, and decided to go hang out in the shed as the sky kept crying. On this coming Wednesday's post, I'll share what she did during the rain. Writing Travel Bits Lately, I've been writing descriptions about local places for Mapquest . Once upon a time, I thought I wanted to be a travel writer, but other things came along to drop that thought in the wish bucket. Writing these occasional short pieces is fulfilling that dream. Here are a few of the places I've written about so far: Pinnacles National Park , National Steinbeck Center , San Benito County Historical Park , and the Cathedral Basilica of Saint Joseph . A rock

Whenever I visited the parents, and then later only the Mama, I was sent home with a care package. Lots of fresh vegetables and fruit from the garden, as well as freezer bags full of cooked rice, lumpia, pork adobo, fried chicken, and bibingka. Whether I was single or married, living alone or with roommates, food always came home with me. Much of the vegetables and fruits were given away to neighbors and friends. The cooked food went into the freezer and eventually most were eaten by friends, spouse, and myself. In my 20s, I said to the Mama, "No, no, that's too much."  In my 30s, I sighed and just accepted the food. In my 40s, I appreciated everything that she picked in her garden and cooked in her kitchen. In my 50s, the Husband and I were living with the Mama. If we had not, I'm very sure that when we visited the Mama, she would've given us lots of food to take home. And, now that I'm in my 60s, I realize that the Mama was sending her love ho

Ice cream is one of my comfort foods. I'm tired, I want ice cream. I'm depressed, ice cream. Happy, ice cream! I eat ice cream on a very hot summer day as well as on a freezing cold winter night. I've even eaten ice cream for breakfast. That was after I walked more than five miles pushing Tilda-Hilda (my pink bike cruiser, for those who don't know) with a flat tire home. Well, four miles. The Husband walked up to meet me and pushed Tilda-Hilda the last mile. He's such a sweetheart. Lemon chiffon, chocolate, coffee, French vanilla, and pineapple-coconut are my top five ice creams. What are yours? Click   here  to find other A to Z challenge participants.

Today, I'm going to describe my fantasy day of dining out. Six small meals. A graze pig out. My full day of dining out would be in San Francisco. With the dear Husband, of course.  We would be doing a lot of wandering around the city to get our appetites up for the next meal. Breakfast: A chocolate croissant, from a real French patisserie, with a big cup of organic coffee. Snack: Half a fresh organic papaya. The Husband gets the other half. Lunch: Dim sum. Yummm. Stuffed eggplant. Taro cake. Sticky rice in lotus leaf. Chinese broccoli smothered in lots of garlic. Snack: One old-fashioned doughnut hole. Okay, maybe two. Dinner: Without doubt, a Korean dinner where we grill kalbi, tender short ribs, at the table. And, that isn't even the best part of the meal. That belongs to the banchan, the several small dishes of vegetables that are served on the side. Some spicy such as kimchi cabbage,  kimchi radish, and spicy beans. Some kinda sweet or mild to balance the s

The following was written yesterday afternoon (and edited much later) . . .   This is a first for me. Sipping a beer as I tippy-tap out words on the keyboard. This, I'm having -- the beer -- right after drinking a small (which in olden times would've been medium) cup of wonderful coffee. I drink coffee now and then, alas. I like the taste of coffee, as well as the thinking that evolves with the caffeine, but this old body of mine can no longer handle daily consumption of the stuff.  Pobrecita. See, even the little Spanish I know gets evoked in the brain cells. Lately, my morning brew is a cup of boiled water. I'm just not into tea or hot lemon juice right now. For the past week, I've been wanting coffee from Vertigo , a coffeehouse in San Juan Bautista that roasts and grinds coffee beans fresh every day. It's about eight miles, more or less, away. Not far at all, but getting dressed and doing this and that before getting into the car first thing in the mor

Is it redundant to say vintage typewriters? After all, who sells new typewriters these days? For that matter, has anyone invented a new model recently? A girlfriend and I stumbled across this display of typewriters in Downtown Los Altos, California last week. They all looked spic and span. I don't think my fingers are strong enough to make the keys go clickity clack. We have three, maybe four, portable typewriters in the house. One is an electric, two (or one) are (or is) Brother typewriters from the late 1960s, and one is a very old, but not ancient, clunky typewriter like the ones you see in black and white movies. I bought that in a garage sale, thinking I'd use it. Ha! It needed a lot of cleaning so I put it back in its accompanying case. I have no idea where it is now. I took a typing class in high school, which was one of two classes that I learned skills I still use today. The teacher roamed around the classroom, making sure we did not peek at our hands as

"Take my picture, please," I asked the Husband in the mustard field. I walked through the tall mustard to hand him the camera. I wanted to see which was taller -- the mustard or me. What do you think?

Bilingual, I am not. A bilingual person is someone who is fluent in two languages. I'm one of those second generation kids (in any immigrant group) who can understand their parents' language but cannot speak it. Oh, sure, I can say some phrases in Ilocano, the Mama's language,  such as, uh,  Awan ti nakkem mo  which means "There's nothing in your head." Something the Mama said to me often when I was a kid. The Husband tells me it's strange to listen to the Mama's and my conversations. She says something in Ilocano and I respond in English. I say something to her in English and she responds in Ilocano. Most times, I don't even realize she's talking to me in Ilocano.  I suppose you could say we are having a bilingual conversation, just that neither of us are bilingual. There are times when I can't figure out what the Mama wants. It's not because of the language difference, but because of the Mama's unique thinking process. She

My town does not have a bookshop, an art supplies store, or a music store. Once upon a time it had all three. When I was a teenager, I fantasized about one day owning a bookstore with a ceramic wheel in the back so that people who want to play with ceramics can do their thing. I even knew what space in town I wanted to have my bookstore. Sometimes the fantasy of having a bookstore pops up when the Husband and I stumble upon a vacant space on main street or thereabouts. I no longer want a ceramic wheel. But, I do think of offering a service for people to have their packages delivered to my bookstore so that they don't have to fear about them being stolen off their porch. In a tiny way, I am living out my bookshop fantasy by having a virtual online book store at Amazon, which  focuses on books about my town and county, as well as local authors.  I could expand this virtual shop by adding other categories that interest me. Yes, I could. Maybe, I will. I'll put it on my To-Do

Once Molly catches that turkey, I will start cooking. I am grateful for many things. . . the Husband, the Mama, and Molly the Cat. the friends in my life. the ability to live the life I choose. the earth, the sun, the wind, and the water. the unconditional love of God. Peace, joy, love, and happiness to you, Dear Readers. 

I drew socks the other day because I bought some socks for the Mama and me. They are just as colorful as the ones in the picture. The Husband bought socks, too. He was the instigator, which meant he needed socks and the Mama must have forgotten to give him socks for Christmas. Actually, it was more like she forgot to tell me that she wanted to buy his annual Christmas bunch of socks. I should've remembered, but I haven't been good in that department either. A couple weeks ago, I forgot about the Mama's doctor appointment. At least, I remembered the following day and called the doctor's office. We went on Friday for his five-minute examination to make sure she is still ticking. Yup, she is indeed. Her blood count actually went up,  and her blood pressure is that of a spring chicken. The Mama also gained a pound. She'd been losing a pound every four months for the past two years so I was very happy to hear the nurse say she was 110. The Mama's reaction. "