What I Would Do for A Handbag

Where have I been? Even I couldn’t believe I’ve not written anything for two months!

Since school started, life has been crazy bringing the kids to school and to their various after-school activities. With three kids growing up very fast and starting to find their own interest, I find myself like the proverbial headless chicken as I scurry back and forth to bring them to different locations all over the metro. There’s swimming, soccer, gymnastics… and still they want to add piano, painting. To add, since R started big school, homeworks are being given everyday. Can you believe that? I don’t remember doing any homework when I was in nursery.

Having been driven near the point of exhaustion by all these activities, to which I am just a passive participant, mind you. I found it particularly important to reward myself for my - ehem, "hard work." So I went bag hunting! :)

I searched online for about two weeks, looking for that perfect everyday bag to keep me in sartorial company as I go about my daily routine. The LV’s and Prada's are perfect for lunch with friends but totally out of place in the pool’s waiting area. I always do a double take everytime I set them down, lest they unintentionally sit on a dollop of water, which could damage the sensitive material. The Nine West bags are perfect for running errands and picking up kids from school but the synthetic leather have a limited life span in my perpetually sweaty palms.

I wanted something durable to last me forever (is that too much to ask? :) ) and yet something mid-priced that will take the beatings of the everyday routine of a mom with three active kids.

A bag can go as far as to tell the kind of person we are; telling others of our interests and creating a strong statement of our personality. No matter what bag you carry, shabby or chic, your handbag definitely says a lot about you. Choosing the right piece will keep us looking effortlessly well put-together, while we savor the appreciation from others.

Longchamp tote is a fave among Manila’s fashionable set, but it doesn’t do wonders for me. I find the bag’s flimsy material insufferable, considering the price-point set for it. A recent incident wherein my sis’ bag was slashed at Powerplant did not do anything to improve my impression of it.

I have always admired the colorful arm-candies at Kate Spade. They can brighten any outfit easily and even if it’s made of nylon, the fabric seems thick enough not to give way easily to any mugger. However, I quickly did a turn-around when C pointedly opined that they looked much like the freebies that cosmetic companies give out.

And so I tried searching under the “fine leather” category. And I loved what I found:

Kate Spade Park Slope in Black

Kate Spade Park Slope in Saddle

Coach Madison Julianne in Black

Finally, here is what I decided on. I just fell in love with the bag’s timeless design and its rich full grain leather, accented with gold tone hardware. Do you agree with my choice?

Share

Portrait of a Saturday

I recently visited the blog of a long-time schoolmate from grade school. She now writes for Sun Star Davao through her column, Mom About Town. Her byline reads: Davao City's fascinating people, events and places through the eyes of a Dabawenya PTA mom.

Her most recent post displayed the artworks of various talented kids. It is here that I stumbled upon the name of my old art teacher and now chairperson of the School of Fine Arts of the Philippine Women's College of Davao, Mrs. Brenda Barba. It is with deep fondness that I remember this lady, for she belongs to that part of my life when everything was so simple, innocent and uncomplicated.

I remember Mrs. Barba as a tall and willowy woman, her pinkie always pointing delicately upward as she gracefully held the different art media in her long and slender fingers. I remember that as a kid, she used to come over every Saturday afternoon to teach all four of us girls. That time, many years ago, Saturday afternoon would always find me leisurely curled up on our rattan sofa, with my favorite pillow keeping me company as I took my afternoon nap. I would be roused from my siesta by Mrs. Barba knocking at our door.

Our art sessions always took place on our dining table. The entire long table was completely filled with art supplies: canvas boards and papers, charcoal pens, oil pastels, oil paints, watercolor, and mixed pencils. Each and every chair surrounding the table was occupied as well, since her two sons, Popoy and Aztec, would often tag along with her. I am not surprised to learn that both of them have become Davao's premier fashion designers. (I vividly remember Popoy, probably in his late teens then, amusing and entertaining us with stories; it was obvious to my pre-teen perspective then that he was gay and happy. He was not flaunting his homosexuality, but he wasn’t hiding it either. He would sometimes stand in for his mother when she couldn’t make it; and in cases like that, the afternoon would be a blast. Aztec, on the other hand, I recall to be good-looking and relatively patient. He would sit and wait for his mom to finish with us, but there were also times he would get a good run-down from his mom for disturbing the otherwise quiet afternoon with his chatter.)

It's been years since I took out my artist pad to sketch, nor have I painted on an easel recently. Motherhood has simply overtaken most of my life. I occasionally dream of going back to art school to pick up where I have left off. Maybe someday soon...

In the meantime, let me share with you some of my earlier sketches.

artwork done May 1992

artwork done May 1992

artwork done May 1992

artwork done October 1993

Share

A Lovely Blog

Still on the topic of reciprocity, I got a One Lovely Blog Award from Jen of Folie a Deux and Michelle of Mom-Friday. Thanks ladies! :)

The rules says that once you get this award, you are supposed to spread the love by:

1) Accept the award, post it on your blog, together with the name of the person who has granted the award and link back.
2) Then pass the award to 15 other blogs that you enjoy.
3) Remember to contact the blogger to let them know about the award.

I hate to be the one to break this chain of loveliness, but I only have two blogs on my Google Reader - Folie a Deux and Mom-Friday. I will definitely have to look up more blogs in the days to come and come up with my own list of 15.

Share

Musical Chairs of Epicurean Goodness

The Hindus believe in the Law of Karma. "What goes around, comes around."

And although the ancient Greeks were mostly pagans, this reciprocity concept was a common principle in their philosophy as well. "What you wish your neighbors to be to you, such be also to them."

Within Christian circles, this is known as The Golden Rule. Luke 6:31 reads, "Do unto others as what you would have them do unto you."

Being the recipient myself of quite a few favors from generous, good-hearted neighbors and friends. I found my list of people to thank growing longer day by day....

1. There's my next door neighbor, a young mom herself, who knows of my fondness for watercress and thoughtfully remembers to provide me almost a weekly supply of it. And as if that weren't enough, she generously shared with me her treasured and tested recipes to add to my limited, but now steadily growing kitchen reportoire. Thanks Sarah!

2. Two pre-school co-parents who know how C and I both love Bicol's hottest (literally!) delicacies and brought back home the infamous Bicol Express and Pinangat as pasalubong from a recent Bicol trip. Both your versions were yummy, Helen and Tes!

3. A soccer mom who gives me good company during the kids' soccer drills and scrimmage every weekends. You make the one and a half hour wait more enjoyable, Ting!

It is with this ethic of reciprocity that I found myself with the desire to share something back to these wonderful ladies. And so one day last week, I found myself in the kitchen as early as 8am, earnestly frosting the cinnamon rolls that I baked the day before.

Done with that, I proceeded to prepare mini-apple pies to go with the rolls.

Mid-day, there were several boxes of rolls and pies waiting to be given away.

No sooner had the boxes been given out and I found myself, again, the recipient of more benevolence and largesse - still of the epicurean kind. What's inside my goodie bag? A chocoholic's heaven!

A sinfully big tray of Ferrero Rocher. I just love these decadent li'l balls with whole roasted hazelnut in the center and surrounded by a smooth chocolate. Hmmm... some Ferrero Rocher cupcakes, perhaps? I could use my moist chocolate cupcake recipe. Bake as directed. Let cool. Poke a hole in the middle. Add crushed Ferrero inside the hole. Top with chocolate hazelnut ganache. I would love to try that!

Spun golden hexagonal boxes hiding delectable Toblerone bars inside. I can already imagine myself in front of a fondue pot, with the melted Toblerone inside the pot; the potent mixture of chocolate, honey and nougat simmering on low heat. Among friends, surrounded by platters of pound cake, biscotti, grapes, strawberries and dried apricots waiting to be skewered and dipped. The ultimate indulgence!

The lip-smacking, finger-licking marriage of chocolate and hazelnuts in a jar, Nutella. I already have the perfect recipe for this. I have archived a recipe for chocolate flavored French macaron with Nutella frosting. I have long wanted to try this, but have always found myself daunted with macarons. It could be because of the laborious process of drying the egg whites, or the back-breaking task of making sure that each macaron is piped in equal proportions at a certain height above the baking sheet to ensure the "perfect foot." But with these gorgeous chocolate tubs, I find myself having the courage to go beyond my comfort zone and face my French macaron challenge head-on.

Macarons are C and J's absolute faves. It is costly at P35 a pop in Bizu, especially since a dozen is easily not enough between the two of them. Hopefully, it will be my own creations you will see here soon!

Bizu Macarons by chotda on flickr

Share

Funeral for a Fish

I found myself a hesitant pet owner when R brought home a fighting fish as a kiddie party give away early this year. A few days later, we were again the recipient of two more fighting fish, still another party give-away from another event. For the next few weeks, the kids were the eager pet owners, constantly brooding over the fish bowls and over-feeding the fishes.

As expected, their interest began to wane as months passed. The fishes slowly began to be neglected to a short shake of the fish bowl during lunch or dinner, on their way to the dining table. Still at a later date, even feeding the fishes were forgotten completely.

One day in early summer, I was in the kitchen cooking dinner when I heard a loud shriek coming from the living room. I rushed to where the sound came from and I saw B and R huddled in one corner. B crying inconsolably and R holding up a fish bowl. "B's fish is dead." he said, half sad and half gloating for being the first one to discover the fish immobile at the bottom of the bowl.



J suggested giving the fish a funeral. We couldn't think of a better place so off to the bathroom we went...



B was still howling with grief, and the extent of her reaction scared me quite a bit. To be sad, yes; but to bawl hysterically? over a fish?

R innocently asked me what's going to happen next to the poor fish. I couldn't think of any better answer than to say it is now in heaven. Eyes lighting up upon hearing that, "see B, your fish is in heaven now, you don't have to be sad." B bawled even louder, "but my fish (sob, sob, sob) is not in heaven (sob, sob, sob), it's in the potty!!! Waaaah!"

Share

Kiss Her Splash

She was really anxious the night before her first swimming competition, scared she might get off the starting block and dive with her feet going in the water first. She asked us to pray for her that night and asked to be cuddled as she slept on our bed.

During her first event, as she hesitated for a second before going in, she was left the last swimmer on the starting platform. For swimmers, how fast you get off the platform and how further out you go contributes a lot to your finish time.


Her self-doubt showed during the competition, and hampered her four events; although she finished respectably within the second and third quartile. Befitting her gentle nature, she doesn't say anything, but her face expressed disappointment when she saw the official race results as she usually clocks in a decent time during practices.

I didn't know what else to offer her except my encouragement and praise. It is her first competition, after all. That reason alone affords her such an enormous room for growth, I assured her. She just needed to put in more hours for practice. I asked her to go back in time to first grade when she had to learn to do the hula-hoop as part of a graded school activity. It took her weeks upon weeks upon weeks of trying. No matter what she did, that dang hula-hoop simply wouldn't stay where it was supposed to stay. It went down to the ground the moment her hands let go of it. So everyday, as soon as she was done with homework, she went outside to practice. I don't know how long it took her, but I remember my front door neighbor asking J if she still hasn't learned to do it after all the weeks of practice. It must've been that long for a spectator to get tired of watching the incessant practicing, think about what more for the one who was actually doing the practicing. One day, she simply just said that she could do it already!




She was still in a pensive mood as we walked to the ladies' locker. She was perhaps tired from the competition or disillusioned with her ending. We just held hands, and I allowed her this walk in silence. I gave her room to think; I know she needed this time to be with herself.

I comforted her saying "As with everything in life, it is not important to be the best, what is more essential is giving your best." Whenever, the kids would get frustrated with a task that's hard to do, I simply sing them a Barney song, "If you can't do it the first time, try and try again; if you can't do it the second time, don't give up my friend." That works most of the time.

She broke the silence, "Mom, I think I want to practice swimming everyday, even after I go back to school." I slowly breathe a sigh of relief. Now that is what makes her a winner in my book!

Be of good cheer. Do not think of today's failures, but of the success that may come tomorrow. You have set yourself a difficult task, but you will succeed if you persevere; and you will find a joy in overcoming obstacles.

-Helen Keller

Share

Bee Watching, Be Careful

Ilog Maria Honeybee Farm has gotten me hooked that I have to have a post devoted to all things honey. I have been to the honeybee farm twice already, and that is just for this summer. On my last visit, I brought along my mother-in-law and sister-in-law with me. We filled our shopping baskets till they overflowed with homeopathic products which listed bee propolis as primary ingredient. I purchased a few more bottles of the Bee Propolis Spray as a reserved stock which I know would come in handy any time my throat starts itching again; Bee Propolis Linament Oil to be used for my next massage appointment; Bee Propolis and Honey Soap for when the kids’ get another dermatitis attacks; their Bee Propolis Ointment have worked wonders for my skin irritations.

For those of you unacquainted with bees, propolis is a substance produced by the honey bees, which they use to the seal their hives against predators and disease. It's made by collecting a sticky resinous substance collected from the buds and damaged bark of certain trees and mixing it with beeswax, pollen and saliva. Propolis does have proven antibiotic and antiseptic properties and may also have antiviral and anti-inflammatory effects. I consider it safe and useful as a home remedy. I highly recommend it as a remedy for mouth sores and irritations in the mouth.

I have what the Chinese call a high internal body heat, and often suffer from sore throat as a result of this. But ever since I purchased my first Ilog Maria Bee Propolis Spray early this year, I have managed to keep my throat in good condition so far.

I also love Ilog Maria’s honey because their honey product is raw natural honey with all the rich ingredients that have not been removed by heat or pressure filtration. Unlike the commercially bottled ones I buy from the grocery, theirs has a unique taste that is both delicately sweet and refreshing. I know it sounds odd to have those two characteristics belong in the same sentence and be used to describe a singular thing, but that’s what it does for me. I enjoy it whipped with butter as a sweet topping for my breakfast pancakes, or simply blended with warm water as a relaxing night cap, and sometimes I just simply pour it on a big spoon and eat it pure - as a mid day indulgence. Ahh! The simple pleasures of life.

I can remember when I was a little girl living in Davao, a certain bee-keeper was a perennial house guest, bringing along with him fresh honeycomb with every visit. He would bring the cut honeycomb and squeeze the honey out of it using a cheesecloth. Another finer-sieved cheesecloth would then be used as a filter to make sure that the strained honey is free from wax and other debris. Finally, it is poured into the mouth of a funnel with a huge sterilized jar at the bottom. Jars of these dark-colored honey were a constant fixture in our family’s kitchen. My dad always ate them right off the spoon as a nutritional supplement.

On an earlier visit to the bee farm, we were delighted to be served fresh honey right off the comb. The owner’s son instructed us: “put out your pinkie finger and press the comb.” We did just that and we were greatly rewarded with sweet, golden honey oozing out of the combs.

Still, others couldn't get enough of this ambrosia, instead of putting out a finger, they stuck out the whole hand instead.

The Bible couldn't have said it better:

My son, eat honey, for it is good, Yes, the honey from the comb is sweet to your taste (Proverbs 24:13)

Share

Once a Farmer had a ....

Paradizoo in Tagaytay is one of R's must see places whenever we are in the vicinity. The last two visits to Tagaytay we have decided to skip this, much to R's dismay. So this time around he wasn't going to take any of our excuses; he put his foot down - and begged. :)

Unlike its' sister zoo located at the Residence Inn, this place has farm animals in attendance. We were assisted by a guide who took time to tell us about the animals in the zoo. He first took us to a minimally fenced acreage housing the llamas and alpacas. If, like us, it's your first time to hear the word alpaca, you might wonder what it means. An alpaca is an animal that looks very much like a llama. To the untrained eye, it would be hard to tell the difference. But our guide pointed out to us that it is actually very easy to spot the difference as the llama is roughly twice the size of the alpaca. In addition, the llama has longer hair, with a very coarse outer coat over a softer inner coat as opposed to the alpaca which has a darker, very fine, single coat. It is for this reason that the alpaca has been carefully bred for over 5000 years as a luxury fiber producing animal, while the llama has been bred for the same amount of time as a pack carrying animal.

In the photos below, the alpacas are the ones with the dark brown hair and the llama is the one with the light hair.




At the next enclosure we saw a freak of nature on display, a five legged cow.

Over at the next fence, the guide proudly showed us some Wagyu cattle.
Still on the opposite fence, we saw some local water buffaloes.

And turkeys roaming free


We also had the opportunity to visit the inside of the goat's nursery where they kept the newborn kids (up to two moths of age) close to the nursing does.


We passed by a flowering garden, and this sign grabbed my attention


There were a lot of hydrangeas in bloom, locally known as milflores.

R trying his hand at fishing.

... and B dipping her hand where it doesn't belong...

C and R are rewarded for their patience. Their first catch was a minuscule fish which we quickly threw back into the water after a quick photo-op.


. . . . . only to be gobbled up by the waiting ducks.

They got luckier with the second fish they caught


The guide allowed us to take a peek inside their mushroom house where trays and trays of oyster mushrooms are growing. They also had their own vermiculture nearby. R, who is my budding zoologist, was captivated by the creatures moving underground he had to be reminded to move along, otherwise he would've stayed there for a few hours.


The strawberry patch is a recent addition


We didn't notice that we took a long time, but as we ended the guided tour and looked at our watch, we realized that it was time to head back home. And R gave a sad farewell to his favorite place. We have been there countless of times already, but the zoo keeps on introducing new animals and activities that there are always new things to see every visit. Surely, we will be back soon.

Share

Of Bees, Buddha and Blackberries...

The long Labor Day weekend found the family in Tagaytay celebrating 2 wonderful occasions, my in-laws wedding anniversary and my niece’s 2^nd birthday. Family gatherings like these offer a wonderful way for the kids to bond with their cousins, and a great way too for the grown-ups to get away from the stress of city living.
The picture above shows us having lunch at T house. A new boutique hotel which also boasts of a gourmet restaurant and a spa.

We have been to this city countless of times yet there are always numerous places of interest sprouting, assuring us that each visit seems like the first. The first stop of the trip was at Ilog Maria Honeybee Farm, where we filled our shopping baskets till they overflowed with homeopathic products, all made with honeybee by-products.

We also visited a hydoponics farm slash Chinese arts museum. Yoki's Farm has to be one of the biggest lettuce farm South of Manila.

The vegetable farm also features a big structure housing numerous Chinese artifacts, mostly sculptures. The piece de resistance is a 30-foot statue of a smiling, golden Buddha which unfortunately was cut-off from the picture by the kids' nanny.

This three-masted Chinese junk ship boasts of intricate details and is carved out of a singular piece of jade. Jade statues this big usually commands top dollars, reaching up to US$2,000.00.

The differently hued flora found in the garden made for a colorful collage.

The different produce grown in the farm makes their way to the more well-known restaurants within Tagaytay.


My own harvest of blackberries...

Share

She Walks In Beauty

I started becoming conscious (read: started lying) about my age the year I turned thirty. There was nothing specific that happened which triggered my sensitivity towards aging, it was just one of the undesirable peculiarities that came with being me. At first C was perplexed, although tolerant, about my fixation with aging. He would laugh at me, and sometimes with me, as I go through this hopeless and self-indulgent travesty. He drew the line though when I started lying to my own kids about it. What, you don’t do that? Seriously? I frankly thought every woman over thirty does it. But since this post is not about the value of honesty let us move on then, shall we?
It does not help that we live in an age where 50 is the new 40, and 40 the new 30. We are unfortunate to be stuck in an era where women are caught in the physiological tug of war between youth and beauty. When I was in my mid-twenties, I remember reading in a magazine that dry skin causes more wrinkles than oily skin. I felt so relieved with that piece of information that for the first time in my life I felt that my oily skin had a redeeming factor, after all. What that article didn’t mention was that if the grease shining off your teen-aged face isn’t enough, then the enlarged pores in your thirties are there to finish the job. They conveniently forgot to mention that enlarged pores become larger as facial skin ages because of the loss of collagen and elastin.

Beauty is the first thing that nature gives women and, unfortunately, it is also the first thing it takes away. I have started using anti aging products the year I hit my big 3-0! I am averse to any procedure, cosmetic or otherwise, involving the needle, having had an appendectomy and 3 C-sections. Botox and other beauty injectibles are definitely not in my list of options, as well. And so in my quest to impede looking like anyone’s middle aged mom for as long as I can, I have incorporated these three steps into my beauty routine. First step: Use a deep moisturizer with the added benefit of a SPF 20 or higher; second step: exfoliate at least twice a week; third step: get enough sleep during the night and take power naps during the day.

I remember having a conversation with my daughter’s swimming coach a few months back. Everything was ok till up to the point he called me "tita". WTF! My mouth wanted to spit out profanities, but my mouth was left agape from shock after hearing this twenty-something call me tita. Who does he think he is? Or more importantly, what does he think of me?

A few well-meaning friends consoled me by saying they, too, have experienced cruelty of this sort. We all agree that after the initial reaction of shock wears off, what follows is a compelling penchant to whack the offender in the head so hard, enough to force them to shake off that insensitivity. To quote Miss Piggy: “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.”

In one of my recent conversations with friends about this topic, we ended up laughing till our bellies hurt when a friend narrated the following conversation that took place between two co-parents in her child’s prep level class. The older mom was protesting politely about being addressed as “auntie”. Hinting subtly that “achie” would be more appropriate, only to be undiplomatically rebuffed with,”oh, but auntie, I am really very young!” Touché!

After everything's been said and (desperately) done, what really makes us retain our youthful beauty is the smile on our face. Genuine contentment, happiness, and strength of character are the greatest beautifiers and preservers of youthful looks. 

That said, I leave you with one of my favorite bible verses: “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” (1 Peter 3:3-4)

Share