Desperateblogger Poses

I got the raw CD copy of the birthday bash pictures the other day. My girls and I already browsed through the more than a 1,000 pictures in the CD. Later, the whole clan (whoever is available) will meet up to view the high resolution pictures projected on a screen. I told everyone to equip themselves with paper and pen so they could jot down what pictures they want enlarged. I have yet to pick 120 pictures for the album. As of now, I am still stumped what pictures to pick as they are all worthy. Here's a set that I have picked out.

What's an AED?

Daughter # 1 and 3, on occasions, come home after each duty with horror stories to tell. Both are in the medical and dental professions and "errors" are inevitable in some cases. I was really bothered by the case of a young man who had appendectomy and died hours after the supposedly successful operation. What happened? No one knows yet as an autopsy had to be performed. Daughter # 3 said that a colleague of hers performed dental surgery and the patient just died after the anesthesiologist gave the patient some medications to sleep. Horror stories! We should all take extra precautions concerning our health.

Daughter # 1 is now serious about getting our own Automated External Defibrillator as both my mother-in-law and husband are cardiac patients. She said that she has been telling my sister-in-law to get one for the longest time. I think she already called her uncle, his dad's brother who lives in Texas, to buy an America AED before coming home to Manila in two weeks time. She said the offered packages on sale at the site are worth the price. The site offers free medical prescriptions and medical authorization on all AEDs. I asked daughter # 1 if the AED would be easy to operate. Daughter #1 said that any idiot could be taught how to use it. Well now, I could actually learn to operate it!

Forgotten Textbooks

School started for my son two weeks ago. He is now officially a junior in college. How time flies! In no time at all he'd be done with his course. He told me though that he plans to either pursue medical studies or go to veterinary school. Whatever he chooses, I'll be all supportive. He has asked me for money to buy his school stuff - that is two ballpoint pens and a fillet notebook. He threw in a couple of yellow pads and a plastic expandable folder for safe measures from the rain wetting his notebook and yellow pads. He asked for more money so he could buy some new shirts and a couple of pair of pants, 6 pieces of boxer shorts, and 6 pairs of socks. I was waiting for him to ask for more money for surely I know that there is a matter of buying some books for his term load. I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, I cannot stand the long wait. After two weeks of school, I finally asked him.

"Aren't you going to buy some textbooks for your new subjects?

At that point his eyes lit up and said " Dang! I knew I was forgetting something."

Father's Day No More

Today is Fathers Day. It would have been great pleasure and joy for me to greet my papa. However, I could not for he has left this ( sometimes ) cruel world for a better place. I could have opted to greet my father-in-law but he is in a better place too. Well, the next best person to greet is the father of my children ( sorry but my mind refuses to acknowledge the phrase my husband). But how could I happily greet him "Happy Fathers Day" when he told me yesterday that he has no obligation what-so-ever to help me buy my medications? Yes. I was forced to ask for monetary help for I ran short of cash. My van needed new disc brakes, the fence needed mending - thanks to the mango tree that fell on the fence yet was not righted for he refused to cut the fallen part- , the galvanized iron roof is rusting and needed replacement, my son needed new eye glasses - a lot of expenses in a week that I paid for. With no other extra income in the offing (not much opps too since google took my PR3 and have not returned it even as I type)- I was strapped for cash.

Top cut a long story shorter, my girls said they will shoulder my medications. I hate to ask money from them since they're not earning big bucks yet. What puzzles them though is the fact that the only one asking for allowance from Mr. No Obligation is my son. That alone saves their father a whooping 24,000 PHP a month. Where's the freaking extra money?! So! No sob story here - just the same recurring theme told in a different angle and circumstance.

In times like this, I sincerely miss my father as I have no one to act as my knight in shining armor. All my uncles on mama's and papa's side are all gone too...oh! except for an eccentric uncle on papa's side who is childless anyway. I have no other sibling but a younger brother who lives with his family in NJ. So, to you my brother, and to all deserving fathers out there... Happy Fathers Day!

P.S.
You might want to earn extra cash through this link. You'd be helping me earn extra cash too.

Rain, Rain Go Away, Come Again After the Wash is Dry...

It has been raining on and off for the past month. The rainy season in the Philippines is progressively coming in earlier each year. If this keeps up, the rainy season might fall during the official summer months this part of the world - March to May. Wouldn't that be something?!

I don't hate the rain. It is the rain that fills up our dams for our water and electricity. It is the rain that fills up the rivers and streams that help in irrigating our crops and plants. It is the rain that clears the smog and pollution evident in our cities. It is the rain that brings freshness and coolness to our mostly hot and humid weather. However, if the rain does not let up, too much of it causes flooding. Flooding drowns our crops and plants and sometimes, people too. Too much rain causes heavy traffic which in turn brings havoc to commuters. Many gets stranded in impossible-to-comprehend-and-untangle traffic jams which in turn cause waste of gasoline, time and undue stress to parents waiting for their kids to get home. Too much rain causes my laundry woman to swear and tsk-tsk interchangeably to the yet wet clothes that she washed and hung to dry two days ago. Tomorrow is a new day. As I see it, it is the day I finally succumb to the rain and bring all our dirty clothes to the dry cleaner.

Of Start of Classes and Stink and Dirt

Swine flu scare or not, school will finally start on June 15 for Ethan and June 16 for my son. In preparation for school, I have bought Ethan's school supplies and other kits. There were no books included in the list. I think the school will continue with its innovation of using US textbooks for based on US curriculum too. I had a laugh when I read its curriculum citing Filipino as foreign language. Whatever. I still need to buy Ethan more clothes as his school is "uniformless".

As preparation for my son's schooling, I went to his apartment to check out what he needs. Horror of horrors! The apartment was freaking dirty and stinked to high heavens! Daughter #2 and I tried to clean the apartment but only did so superficially. The whole place needs a great wash and clean-up. I almost fainted when I saw the yellowed-dusty-smelly bed sheets and pillow cases of my son. No wonder his pimples have been acting up. He has been sleeping in "dirt" for the past month. No amount of the best acne treatment would do him any good if he continues to sleep on dirty sheets on a dusty bed in a smelly bedroom in a super stinky apartment.

A Hundred Pesos Per Strand

I am really getting old! As I was combing my hair in front of my dresser mirror, I noticed some small stubs of grayish-silver-ish hair sprouting in perfect symmetry on my hairline. How could that happen? I dyed my hair just a few days ago. That should have covered the gray hair, I thought aloud.

"Mom, you used the cheap-o hair dye and that does not work on gray hair", said one of the daughters.

"A 395 Php bottle of dye is still cheap?" I asked.

"Mom, remember when you used to go to Frank Provost or Basement for a hair dye job? That cost you tons!" added one of the daughters.

Oh well, those were the days... back when diesel was 15.00 Php per liter. I might as well do things cheap for there is a world wide recession and economic crisis going on.

"Ethan, can you please pluck out my gray hair?"

" No mom, that's hard."

"I'll pay you one peso per gray hair that you get". Gosh! This was what my mama used to say to get me into plucking her gray hair.

"What? One peso? I'll do it for 100 pesos per hair" said the enterprising Ethan.

"Okay then. Just pluck out half a gray hair". Fifty pesos is all I can afford.

Anthill Royalties

I've been spring cleaning the house and it's not even spring - matter of fact- spring is alien this part of my world. My house is dirty! Oh yes, the parts that are visible are perfectly clean. Look under the beds and behind furniture and appliances - gosh! the dirt are happily accumulating. I was cleaning the utility room yesterday and you'll never guess what I found industriously building their home under some cabinetry. Ants! Red-big-angry-ants are structuring their ant hill right under the utility room cabinet. I found numerous candy wrappers tucked under/behind the cabinets. The mound was loosely built - more sand-like than packed soil. I guess the ants have had a hell of a time picking up one itsy-bitsy grain of sand at a time then transporting it into the utility room.

What were my maids doing? Didn't they see the line of ants carrying grains of sand and tidbits of food? Weren't they bitten as I was? Were my maids in reality the ant queen and princess?

"Things" to do today: make sure the ants have no further business in the utility room as I've made sure the ant hill royalties are banned from returning to my house.

In Your Dreams!

The time was 5:45 AM. I just finished giving daughter #1 her 5:00 AM bottle. I was still feeling sleepy and lethargic for the baby was quite fussy all night. Colic. What I would not give for a good night's sleep. Suddenly there was a loud banging at the bedroom door. It sounded like a heavy object was being rammed into our door. The baby, startled, started crying while hubby got up to see what was happening. I picked up the baby and tried to settle her. As my husband opened the door, there, in all his early morning glory, was my father-in-law. He was ramming the door with a bench to wake us up. He said "Ano ba?! Gumising na kayo tanghali na. Ikaw babae, maghanda ka na ng almusal." (Wake up, it's already late. Woman, fix breakfast.)

I did not know if I would laugh or cry. The scene was straight out of a Filipino classic movie - the daughter-in-law dreadfully treated by the in-laws. I could not believe the lack of respect and propriety! I was speechless and felt that I was transported back to the Middle Ages. My husband looked at his father then back to me. He was clueless as to what to do next. I sort of felt that hubby wanted me to do what his father wished. In Your Dreams! I stood my ground. I respectfully but firmly said to my father-in-law - "You have 5 maids, a wife and two single daughters living here with you. Tell them to cook your breakfast. My place is to take care of my family, not you."

My father-in-law looked at me but said nothing. He left and from then on, he afforded me the respect that I deserved.

Bro's Job Promotion

I just got off the phone. I was having my weekly chat with my brother. I recently received a package from him - clothes for Ethan, perfume and a Coach bag for me. He recently got promoted and has been feeling quite ecstatic and generous - thus the package of gifts. That job promotion has been in the offing for so long that my brother just about gave up on it, especially in the wake of the US economic crash. I am glad that finally he received his long-deserved promotion. Now, his whole family is thinking of taking a cruise somewhere warm during the Christmas break. His wife is now looking for suitable cruises that can they can afford. That would be nice. How I wish I could go too.

Queer Laundry Woman

My in-law's old house is big. It's not a house in the real sense of the word "house". It is actually a building for their business: the business area occupying the ground floor while the residential area is on the second floor. The building itself was badly planned- that is according to my standards. It looked like the structure was planned in accordance with the owners' whim - ok, let's take this wall out and add another bedroom or let's extend this flooring, add a roof and presto, we have a balcony.

Ahh... the balcony. That balcony was called terrace by my in-laws. I had a hard time locating the terrace the first time I was asked to go there. I kept looking for the terrace at the ground floor not realizing that they meant the balcony. I finally figured it out when hubby leaned out from the balcony and called out to me - hoy! andito kami! ( hey! we're here! )

The balcony was a venue for many occasions. That was where my father-in-law kept his pigeon feeds. Every morning he would bang a metal post to call the pigeons for their meal. The balcony , being spacious, was a place to congregate and party too. It was also where the washing machines were located. When I had my baby I thought it better to do my own laundry. One step over the side of the balcony will lead one to the immense galvanized roofing of the ground floor structure. The reflective glare of the sun against the GI roofing made me wear sunglasses whenever I do the laundry. I guess some of my in-laws' employees found me peculiar. I guess their wives and mothers do not wear sunglasses when doing the laundry. But what the heck? Hubby, in his quest to make me look less weird, also dons men's sunglasses when he comes over to see me doing laundry. One time, I was waiting for the cycle to finish when my mother-in-law came by too. It was almost noon and the sun's glare was horrendous. I almost fell over when I saw my mother-in-law wearing women's sunglasses big enough to cover her whole face. She was sweet though. She went out of her way to show her employees and other "tenants" in the house that her daughter-in-law - me- was not queer.

Transient Thought

It is a lazy Sunday. I slept late or shall I say early morning, because I waited for my son to get home from a party. I still feel sleepy but I just have to open my e-mail, browse on my blog and other stuff before I go home to Taytay. I just have to go visit my cousin, the one who was hospitalized a few weeks back. I have been informed that her disease is progressive.

I just feel so sad. I guess there's nothing left to do but follow the doctor's recommended therapies, and pray unceasingly for God's mercy. Being human, I sometimes cannot help but question the fairness of life. My cousin is single and lives alone with her two German shepherds. She is active in church and is a sponsor to many financially-stressed students. Why did she have to get sick? She is doing a lot of good for God's glory and the community.

However, this thought is transient. I know that God has plans for each and everyone of us. IN times of trouble and doubt I an comforted by Romans 8:28: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

So be it!

A Matter of Perspective

As we were eating dinner, I nonchalantly asked daughter # 4 her grades for the last tri-mester. She was in school to get her classcards.

Oh, I got an average of 3.9 mom (4.00 being the highest). She made the first honors list again. Considering her double-degree course, thesis #1 that she submitted, thesis #2 that is in the drawing board, her extra-curricular activities and her regular load in school, I would say that was quite a feat.

As we were laughing and being happy with #4's academic honors, son came in ready to sit down for dinner too.

Son: So why is everybody laughing?

Me:There's really nothing to laugh about.

#3: We're just sort of giggly because sister here has a GPA of 3.9.

Me: That is almost 4.00!

#2: Almost perfect!

Son: Big deal. I got a 4.00 in Math 17.

Note: Philippine universities vary in their grading systems. Most have a grading system of 1 to 5 with 1 as the highest, 5 as fail and 4 as conditional. A grade of four requires the student to retake the final exams. Some has a grading system of 4 to 1 with 4 as the highest, 1 as the lowest and 0 for fail.

Jogging Revelry

On March 26, 2008, the academic oval (Osmena and Roxas Aves.) of the University of the Philippines became a one-way street going counter clockwise. The oval streets are now divided into two lanes. The inner lane, about 1/3 of the whole width of the road, is off-limits to vehicles. For the past months, on Sundays and Saturdays, the oval is closed to vehicular traffic. Such hassle, I said to myself. Why the scheme?

Well, at 4:30 pm the oval's inner lane starts to fill up with joggers, runners, bikers, walkers, and lovers. You can see people running clockwise on the oval, others, counter clockwise. Some are serious runners. They even wear their running clubs' uniforms. Others are jogging as warm-up for their varsity training. Most are combining jogging-walking to lose weight. How did I know? They're overweight! There are some who jog to let off steam and toxins.

There are those who choose to go biking using either mountain bikes or racers. There are small groups gathered by the food kiosks infront of the College of Arts and Letters and Palma Hall, drinking juice or pop. I saw a couple spread out a mat in the grass. I saw an old lady grab the low gate near the theater while she executes some foot and ankle stretching. I am overwhelmed by the fiesta like atmosphere. People are just having fun traipsing around the oval.

My daughter and I looked at each other. An unspoken understanding passed between us.

Tomorrow, we join the revelry.

Latin Lover

Last night before I went to sleep I set my mobile phone alarm to go off at 5:50 am. Three of my kids will be leaving at 6:30 a.m. I just want to see them off.

Zzzzzz.....I felt movement inside my bedroom. I heard my son say bye mom. My bemuffled mind commanded my sleepy tongue to say "bye". Good-bye at this time? Are they leaving now?

I still did not get up. My alarm clock has not rang. Maybe my son is in one of his nocturnal episodes. I heard hurried footsteps outside my door. They are leaving? Must be a figment of my imagination. It is still so early. My alarm is silent.

I drifted in and out of dreamland. My mind was trying to absorbed the news on TV. Huh? Ex-president Cory Aquino has colon cancer? Is that right? Why is there a news broadcast before 6:00 am? It's pretty early. My alarm has not rang.

I felt the sun on my eyes. The askew curtain allowed the sun's ray to touch my face. Someone is talking in my ear. Mom. Mom. Mom. Wake up. I'm hungry. Someone started to bounce on my bed! It's still freaking early. My alarm has not played Latin Lover yet. I felt the wet lips on my ear. I AM HUNGRY! Ethan emphasized.

I groped for my mobile phone and looked at the time. It's 7:45 am! What happened? My kids have left and I did not see them off. Is my phone broken? Why didn't the alarm sound? I checked my phone. See, the alarm was set at 5:50.... PM!

My Latin Lover failed me.

New Toy for the Big Boy(s)

my son doing his thing

As my son, 3rd daughter and husband were on their way home last night, my son told his dad that he needs to buy something at MOA ( that's Mall of Asia ). So a quick detour was made. Dad and 3rd daughter went trailing after son. What the heck is he looking for? Finally.

Dad, said the son, can I have 1 K? I only have 1 K and this thing that I have to buy is worth 2K.
What are you going to buy anyway? the dad asked.
This really cool skateboard that operates like a twist car. answered son.
The 3rd daughter reacted: What? mom said no unless you buy it with your own money.Son looked at dad with imploring eyes. Okay here's 1K go buy your board said the spoiler dad.

the 2,800 Php skateboard

The board turned out to be 2,800 php but father and son bought it anyway. I was watching television last night when I heard the floor creaked and the side door slammed. I went out to check. Father and son where out on the street testing the board, at 11:30 pm.

The Lions Reunite

The De Leon Clan of Taytay, Rizal had a reunion of sorts over the weekend at Tagaytay. The venue was at the house of its eldest second generation cousin. It was not highly attended since many were at previous engagements that cannot be broken, some were abroad and others just didn't want to attend.

From my mama's side only me, my mom, 2 daughters and Ethan attended. Take note that we are the only branch whose four generations are present. The other branches's first generations have passed away.

The picture to your left shows the remaining 1st and 2nd generations of the De Leon Clan. Three have passed away. Four are abroad. Two are absent! Yeah. I'm the youngest girl among the cousins.

There are four 6 first generations: A,B,C,D,E and F. Branches A, B,C and E are now with the Lord. D and E are certified bachelorettes and F is my mama. It is only the descendants of A that needs a "reunion" for the families of B, C and F always see each other. A's clan wore blue. B's clan wore yellow. C's clan wore red and F's clan (that's us) wore green. Anyway, food was a plenty, the house is big, the view fantastic, and we generally had a good time.

My Papa

MY father was big great throb in my neck when I was growing up. He was dreadfully strict disciplinarian who whacks my butt with his leather belt every time I do things contrary to his likes. That was often! He firmly believed in the Biblical saying “spare the rod and spoil the child.”

My father’s usual mantra was “Have you studied your lesson?” To which I would reply “But its summer vacation.” (I would just like the readers to note that back in the late 60’s there were no summer academic programs for kids. Once you “do” summer, that means you failed your subject.) “I don’t care! Read books! There’s a whole set of Britannica on the bookshelves” my father will counter.

Who the heck reads encyclopedia. So what I do was go to Ka Seto, the local Tagalog comics vendor, and rent comics with such titles as Pioneer, Hiwaga, Aliwan, Wakasan, Tagalog Klasiks, etc.. Of course my father would eventually catch me reading the comics and that would bring on another butt-date with his leather belt.

Papa was always pushing my brother and me to do things way beyond our imagined capabilities. He used to say that we were so privileged because we did not have to walk to get to school nor work to support our studies. I was 9 years old, my brother 8.

When I reached puberty my father became more stern and severe. I was not allowed to go to parties or soirees or outings or any activity that could make me enjoy my teens. No suitors. No boyfriends. No dates. As far as my father knew, I was following his rules. Boy, was he totally wrong.

I was so rebellious and hard-headed that my clashes with my father became regular household disturbances. In this corner: my 2 maiden aunts and me. In that corner: my father and his ideals. My mom was usually in the center. If my 2 maiden aunts were not enough to convince my father to give me permission to whatever or wherever, my mom’s other sister will be called. Ah, this aunt of mine was the best. The moment my father sees her, the balance tips over my side.

When I had my debut, I was not permitted to stay through the end. It was Martial Law and overnight parties were the protocol due to curfew. It was the 70’s and skirts were super-duper short. I was to wear shorts or half-slips under my skirt.

My father was proud of me. He used to bring over friends and commanded me to play-the-piano-while-i-sing-and-dance-and-eat-fire-while-cartwheeling-my- other- hand- playing the banduria. I was always pitted against my cousins who were years older that I was. I was supposed to get high grades and be a doctor some day. My father expected so much from me and of me.

I did not want to be a doctor. I wanted to be a musician! An artist! A performer! I fought real hard to win this bout and I did. Did I?

Many years later, I wished I listened to my father’s advice. If I did, I would be a doctor now. But hey, being an architect is not so bad. What really saddens me is the fact that my father never achieved his dream of having a doctor in the family. He died on July 18, 2000, the year my eldest child and his first granddaughter entered medical school.

My father taught me the virtues of discipline. He instilled in me a sense of responsibility. He rammed in me the importance of education. We shared the same passion in music for he was a very accomplished banduria player. My father made me realize that I can be whatever I want to be.

My father was Dr. Guillermo B. Lengson. He was a husband, a father, a dentist, a Karate guru, a musician, a mechanic, an electrician, a son and a grandfather. He would have been 77 today.

I miss you papa.