MEComposing

I didn't get to take a decent picture of the DUYAN (hammock) in my Dad's house...one he bought in Bicol for only P150 that's made from abaca...

But lulling Pyro to sleep there for 3 days, and swinging it for my sister and nephew... and just lying there every chance I get (while eating Snickers, Milky Way, Musketeers and White Chocolates... and ice cream... and champorado... and ginataang saging... and goto... or just drinking milk or chocolate...) brought back sweet memories of childhood... where a similar hammock would be found in my Lola's porch... or where younger cousins would be sleeping while I helped watch over them...

It was pure bliss :)

Anyway, we indeed found ourselves going to San Juan, Batangas for a quick swim. My Dad came along with my cousins and me because he's never been there before. And amazed he was at how clean and deserted the beach was... he kept singing while he was swimming. He also kept telling me that apart from us, he loved the sea the most. After all, he was a seaman for around 20 years, and he vows to forever appreciate how the sea has been kind to us.

He tried teaching Bonita to swim... again, a delightful thing for me to watch because I feel am watching him play father to me when I was younger. It's like being put in a time warp where generations and faces and time overlap... and all that's left is this warm, fuzzy feeling of happiness and contentment... and this awareness that love is in the air. Yeah, mushy me...

Mom, who decided to stay at home because she's superstitious and didn't want the whole family to be together in the same car, surprised us by cooking spaghetti. We bought ice cream as a treat for the kids and spent the rest of the afternoon prying fighting kids from each other, wiping mouths and noses and praying they'd learn to share the hammock... ASAP.

My cousin Jim and I were born 2 weeks apart... and had so many pictures taken together as we grew up. We're usually both crying in said pictures because he's just pinched me, and because I just poked his ribs. Anyway, not that I scanned any of our pics... but... Bryant and Bonita (Jim's eldest) are also always after each other's throats, born several months apart, but also share the same passion for ice cream.



We went to the cemetery Sunday afternoon and Monday morning... each time forgetting to bring enough candles for all our dead. The thing with a barrio cemetery is, your ancestors are all buried there, most of them wizened, wrinkled faces from your childhood that actually used to scare you... They're planning to have my lolo's niche tiled so that we won't have to have it painted each year... and the roof cemented.


Dad drove us to the cemetery in our car... and Mom was so nervous she was gripping the seat. She said, warmth only returned to her feet after we've returned safely home.

And while they whiled away Sunday night belching out oldies, I took a pic of my tired, happy self in my Lipa bed... for obviously, being the designated photographer meant that I would be missing in the pictures...



Pyro took a bath (finally) again last Sunday... basically because my Mom (finally) allowed it. Here, he is playing with his Nemo... but we're really trying to wean him away from stuffed toys since sucking on their noses and ears and tails keep resulting to a throat infection for him... Glad that he's fully recovered from his rashes too, and has learned a new set of tricks and stuff over the weeekend. It was also great seeing him line up with the kids to be fed spaghetti... it's official, competition for food and attention will make a child eat, if nothing else.

Can't wait to dress him up for Christmas...