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The Mama's Rose Bush

"Take a photo of the pink roses before I clip them," said the Mama, as I was cleaning Molly the Cat's litter box. She—the Mama—rarely asks me to take a picture of anything, especially of her works of wonder. "Take it so you can see the apple tree," the Mama said, showing with her hands the angle she wanted me to shoot the photo. She was sitting in the living room. I love it when the Mama gets artistic on me. That, too, is rare these days. That is, except for her gardening.  The Mama is one of those people with a green thumb. She can clip a rose branch, stick it in the ground, and most of the time it grows into yet another beautiful rose bush. The rose bush in the photo was once upon a time a small pot of roses that was bought at a grocery store. I don't remember how long ago, but I do recall she didn't really care for that kind of rose at the time. But, the Mama being Mama, rarely throws a gift plant away. By the way, that is not the apple

Take 25 to Hollister

Nothing. Today, I have nothing to say. Well, I do have a lot of ideas, but I've just run out of steam. So, I invite you to go to my other blog and check out my hometown, Hollister, California. No, not the store. The actual place that is no where near the coast. I was born and raised in this still kind of rural small city. It's a nice place to have come back to live. When we used to live up in the San Francisco Bay Area, the husband often said, "I want to go far, far away." Hollister turned out to be it. For now. So, on to my other blog you go: Take 25 to Hollister.

Molly's Great Adventure

"Hey, Kid, your people are looking for you," said Lickity Split, as he sped by me. I barely got onto the sidewalk when he turned the corner. There was no use following him. All afternoon I had been following him to no avail. Just as I caught up to him, he jumped onto a fence and climbed over it into the unknown. I scooted back into my hiding place. Everything was fine and dandy when I first got outside. But it had gotten dark and cold. I had no idea where I lived. I should've marked my trail as I walked away. If I was home right now I would be playing with the orange string that the tall hairy human likes to dangle in my face. Then after awhile the human who feeds us would put a bowl of food on my tray.  Sigh. Lickity Split said he would show me where to find food if I didn't go home tonight. Will he come back? I wondered. "You've got it made, Kid," he said to me when we first met that afternoon. He was the reason I wanted to come out. I had to

So Says the Mama

After almost nine years of living with the Mama, the Husband and I sometimes find ourselves saying one of the Mama's infamous phrases. The first few times, the Husband heard her say them, he asked me, "Why does she say that?" Like I would know. But, I did try my best to reason out why she might. Now that the phrases pop out of the Husband's mouth, he may be able to explain to me why she would say such a thing.  Here are two of our  favorite phrases of the Mama. Lots of people there? The Husband and I come home from a party, a hike in a park, a local function, a something. "Hello," we call out, as we enter the house. "Hello, hello." We usually have to say "Hello" a few times because the Mama doesn't answer right away, even if she happens to be in the living room, which is just a short hallway from the front door. When she doesn't answer, which, as the Husband says, is normally a grunt, I go searching for her. "We'

What I Would Do

If I were more ambitious, I would nudge myself to actually take the time do the following ten ... five ... three! things within the next...uhm...let's say five weeks. Sew the "bridle" for Molly the Cat. It's not really called a "bridle". I just can't remember the correct term right now. But, it's the thing to which you attach a leash. Yes, the Husband and I have visions of walking with Molly the Cat. So does the Mama. I've already bought the "ingredients" (again, I can't remember the correct term) for the project. If you're curious about my vague description, check this link . Okay, the bridle is a harness. Bridle sounds so much nicer. Pedal my bicycle to and from Tres Pinos. Every morning before breakfast, too. Tres Pinos is a cool, tiny village about five to seven miles away from the house, depending on what route I take. This would be a very huge commitment as well as a complete overhaul of my schedule. It would mean

Priorities

Yesterday, I was going to do our taxes. Instead, I took the Mama to the annual Easter BBQ fundraiser sponsored by the local Filipino American  club. Purchasing the chicken lunch is the Mama's way of "making" the Easter meal since she no longer has the stamina to do it herself. It's also her unspoken way of giving me a break from cooking. Well, that's what I like to think. Yesterday was a beautiful afternoon for a picnic. As the Mama likes to say, "Lot of people there." The lunch line was long, about 45 minutes long. I didn't mind standing in it at all, especially when I ended up talking with the guy behind me who turned out to be the nephew of Alice, a friend of my mom's from long, long time ago. What did he and I remember so well about Alice: Her cookies!  I also recall that it could be hot, hot, HOT outside, but so cool, cool, COOL inside her house. Dark, too. But, then that's what made it so cool. While I stood in line yakking awa

A New Daydream

This morning, I read that a local farm needs a driver to deliver CSA boxes to its distribution points in several cities. Only twice a week. Only 15 to 20 hours a week. $12 to $14/hour, depending on experience. I would love that job. Yes, I would. Those are not long hours at all. The pay is definitely a living wage and it would be a nice monetary supplement for this nonstarving writer.  The lifting and hauling? I may not be in the best of shape, but I can manage the up to 40 pounds per item. I truly believe that within a few weeks my strength and stamina would be greatly improved. I would be hauling boxes with the not-quite nonchalance I used to do when I was quite younger. (Hey, it's my daydream.) Besides, the Husband says he would do it with me. Just think, the farmer would get two for the cost of one. If only I didn't have this writing project right now. And, those other responsibilities that I can't walk away from for two days a week. I know my limits—and my