2015 Calendar Scam

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I have fondly and in jest, been calling this project my “Great Calendar Scam”.   I have no affiliation with any government or non-government organizations and neither do I belong to any clubs or charitable organizations. 

It just started with a very simple idea of making a compilation of my watercolor paintings in a calendar.  There was nothing romantic or heroic with the concept to begin with.  It was merely another way of selling my works in an art fair.

Some are moved by storm surge, others by an angel’s whisper.  I changed course after a conversation with a friend who has always rallied behind my art.   She said that she would sell the calendars a few hundred pesos more and will donate the extra profit to Yolanda. 

Then I saw the possibility to help and the window of opportunity to put my art to good use aside from it being my personal therapy kit.  That was how it started.  From the plan to donate Php300.00 for every calendar sold to donating the entire profit to Yolanda. 

The goal is to raise a million to build a classroom where children can learn and find joy in discovering their potential, so that they will not always feel sorry for themselves.  After all, education is very close to my heart and its art is my full time job.

I am on my 179^th calendar.  There are 179 people with me in this.

We have neither name in politics nor fame in what we try to do but we know that if all of us nameless and fameless people gather, we are going to build a classroom in a place where the storm brought the sea to where it should not be and snatched lives and erased communities.  There is always hope and a chance to dream where children can learn and move on.

I am such an amateur in what I have embarked on lately but this I found out from the ordinarily godly people that I have encountered in this project:  Great wealth and riches come from the heart. 

Got weight? Get a cat.

There are layers they say, that build up around who you are as you live life, gain experience, suffer loss, disapointments, regrets and fears.  I am not sure if you turn into something like a pearl but the process is very much the same in my opinion.  The irritant starts the layers that would envelop it in much the same way again as how one comes up with a cough- to finally expectorate, regurgitate or expel!

How we wish that this process when it happens to us, would turn us into pearls, but instead it turns us into someone lackluster, full of fats around every conceivable part of our human body.  This form of cushioning helps us to survive but also, eventually... we die.

If it is not in quantifiable volume,  it is the dimensionless anger, spite, envy, wrath, rage, self-pity. fear, disgust, deception in different degrees, single or combined that wrap around a body in catatonic state.  Either way, it makes us fat.

Other people go through an opposite process.  Pared and skinned.  Every layer melts, wilts or shrivels.  The idea is to expunge the entire body - where the negative energy attaches.

Another gruesome scenario is the way our essence is blurred by influences of those who are around us or by our own expectations of ourselves.   In order to survive, layers and layers of masks or plaque build up to deny the painful truth.  Denial like procrastination is laziness in the highest degree.

the law of inertia
We allow ourselves to gather moss like a stone in coma, unless someone kicks us.
Then we are tossed and thrown and we hit the ground many times, bouncing till we stop.

 "For every action, there is an opposite reaction."
Someone, the Great Force has many ways of waking us up from our stupor. Everything is on automatic mode when the world with its universe was created.  The law of nature is a system that automatically kicks in once something is pushed.

This is what I call realization.  Realization happens in ways not always as fabulous as when Prince Charming brings the glass slippers to Cinderella or when the Prince kisses Aurora.  Sometimes one has to kiss an ugly toad to realize that it is handsome after all or dance with the beast to know that she is dancing with one!  Some realizations happen when faced with death or sickness.  Loss in all its meaning and in different circumstances, can be a powerful trigger but it can also bring dis-ease or discomfort that makes one sabotage all his awesome plans.

Such is life's paradoxes.  These can happen to some or to just one person.  One thing may be true to some but not to others.  Important is we keep trying but know when we have to try something else.  I have never succeeded in raising African violets nor in growing lavender and have not lost the last 10 pounds that will make me look good in my 250 peso Alexander McQueen.  I have thought in my younger days that someday, I will be interviewed by Oprah but I changed my mind...



So today, I got myself a cat.  After all these musings, that's what I did.  I got myself a cat and we are communicating.  It is already starting to call me Em-mmawww!

comfort and joy

Someone told me that we are basically cave men.  We retreat in the dark to rest. Should i say that we are like bats too? 

I can understand that.  We all seek some semblance of night during the day once in a while.  Inasmuch as sunlight is healing and cheerful, a bit of shade is soothing and draws inner reflection.

Fireflies love the darkness of night. Responding to the firefly in me gives me the joy of letting my light flicker and shimmer through which is only made visible by that stark contrast. 

How Not To Go To Church on Sundays

 The church bells ring.  But first, the alarm.  One passes through this before one gets to church.

There is no tricycle.
The husband is not prone to drive at 5am.
The overnighters will be left alone.

The driver always forgets.  It's not his business.

I like the 5am mass, not the 6 and the after every hour mass that's available.
Too many people after the 5am mass.

I like going to the Anripolo Cathedral.
It is huge and has a great following.
But I like the anonymity and the company of people who wake up at 5.
Yes, a bit of bad breath here and there but maybe they smell mine too.

No other church gives me the feeling of home.
No other church, especially not the subdivision chapel.

And they have no 5am mass.

But as I have said, there's no tricycle to pick me up.

The Sunday market beckons.
The ukay stores have new blouses or skirts every week!

I have to get some plants and cheap flowers.

I have to buy some organic vegetables.

I have to buy some mangosteen or fruits in season!

So maybe I also pray when I am happy and when I smell the rosal and camias and take them home!

Rosal is Php 50.00
A bunch of camias is 75.
Potted hydrangea 50.00
Mangosteen was expensive last Sunday at 150 per kilo
Cactus is 3 for 100
Louboutin sandals for 1000.00 brand new
Isabel Marant blouse is 250.

happiness is priceless.
it makes me saintly!

And husband likes to drive to the Sunday market
I tag along.

pretty louboutin that I never dreamed of having now in my feet

mangostten, durian and mabolo

hydrangea

The Middle Child

What mystery envelops a middle child?
Is he really more complicated than the first and the third?
Born after the first child who became the first experimental baboon to parents who knew little,
the second one was born with a degree of knowledge and experience which the eldest child provided these anxious beginners.

Then why the supposed syndrome?
This child of woe and complication was raised by parents who knew more, whose mastery of the craft of parenting has afforded them less sweaty palms and armpits.
Then why does this child of complexity raise such challenge and concern?

This child is between two siblings.  One taught him the ways while the third showed him how he is stronger and wiser.

He is not ever taken for granted.  He cannot be taken for granted because he will not allow it.  He is either a child who feels persecuted and thinks that nothing he gets is better than the rest, but he is also the offspring who loves the best, who defends his Kuya and who allows his baby brother to treat him like his toy bear.  He cannot be taken for granted because in the same manner that he gives the sweetest love,  he also demands that he is loved like there are no others.

The middle child can be the rainbow and the bright sun but can also be the thunderstorm.   And when he is all thunder and lightning, how he disarms his mother is a gift.

He prefers the villains over the heroes and sees the excitement and challenge over the despised, evil characters and how the heroes can be really boring indeed!

Yet his prayers are the most sensitive and comes out from him as a natural expression of his heart and soul - "dear God, thank you for the sand in the beach" and after he has taken our breath away and melted us in the warmth of such grace,  he'd jolt us all from revery with "thank you for my BAD brother" with a laughter that can only come from a very familiar and easy relationship with the God he knows. 

He boxed a schoolmate the other day, this middle child.  He said he had been forgiven.  Then why do the adults fuss over the incident?  He cried for an hour when he was told by his mother that parents will come the next day to reprimand him for hurting their son.  He had to learn a lesson and the elders were worried except for his grandfather who took him to his lap with so much love.

We do not know what will work but I know that this middle child will sort it out for himself.  Someone's gotta break 'em rules sometimes, and he is curious and daring enough- except that this time, the principal will be called in her very own office!

Maybe his daddy will see the principal.

The Problem with Grandparents

I am Ima and she is Lucy

1.  Grandparents have to be incarcerated.
They commit crimes like harassment, kidnapping, smothering, crippling and corruption.

Remember this face:  pudgy with a very sweet smile. If you encounter this person, she is a criminal!  This group of elderly citizens have learned to text too and are quite obscene.  Yet when you meet them in school, they smile at you with twinkling eyes!  They have a code name just like Agent 007.  Some are called Mimi, Mamita, Mama Yana, Abuelita, Lolita, Lola Doo,..They harass teachers, guards, principals, canteen personnel and the poor janitor. They also harass the poor parents of the child when they fail to bring the grandchildren on weekends or on daily occasions.

This one goes inside a guarded gate wearing a granny coat pretending to be cold.  She goes out the gate bulkier and with 4 legs.  She has decided to kidnap the poor grandchild from her PE class.

It is not surprising to see or sometimes not notice children being whisked off their porches or while playing on the street by an old driver of a sedan or limousine or taken by a frumpy lady with an umbrella and a paper bag riding a tricycle! 

Smothering is a common crime.  Children don't even have to breathe.  The grandparents can do that for them.  The little imps can't sweat, can't fall, can't get scratched.   They are smothered to perfection until the grandchildren, not the olds end with paralysis. Of course I am exaggerating. 

Bribing is corruption.  Children are introduced to this early signs of corruption from a barter of kiss and candies, sleep-over and toys, and many more combinations.

I can't blame poor grandpa.  AA or apo addiction is an indication of mental disorder.  The symptoms are hair loss, cranky fingers and redundancy.  When he starts getting delusional, grandpa thinks he is cold.  He piles up all the grandchildren to sleep on the bed easing out grandma.  The last one is premeditated.

 2.  Grandparents therefore, should  be institutionalized.
They can be delusional, compulsive liars and make people around them suffer from their paranoia.
Do I need to expound?

Grandma to the PE teacher:  She can't go under the sun.  She gets skin asthma, bronchial asthma, fried brains, hip dysplasia and warts!  She started hyperventilating since you made her chase that ball!

What is with PE?  How come Grannies hate it?

G:   Oh no, I did not give her chocolates!  Why will I do that? and no ice-cream!  Those are not allergies!  They are insect bites! You don't close your windows and doors that's why!

G:   Her teacher is a witch.  She is evil!  Then why would my grandchild be taught to hold a broom?

Impo, the greatgrandmother with J1,2,3

3.  Grandparents have to undergo speech therapy among other things.

Grandpa:  Come, let's go ah babath then ah wawipe.  Ah cow! Ah cow! (pointing to a carabao)  No bebe.  Ah go ako ah stor. A-sama? (I'm going to the store.  Are you coming?)

Guilty or Not Guilty?

NOT Guilty. Guilty of loving and over-loving.  Can't give enough.  But what are grandparents for?  they were made to do all these stuff.  To love their grandchildren without conditions and without limits.  To give till their last centavo.  Otherwise they are useless beings!

I buy toys but very rarely, and when I ask what they want for their birthday, the response is faster than the quick brown fox:  your heart and your love!!

Then this:
Grandpa:  Will buy toys tomorrow?  We can bring Ima.

breakfast in Frogglerocks

J:   Can we not tell Ima we are getting some toys?

Fried bananas, corn on the cob over red hotdogs?  

How corny can one get? 

This grandparent breaks a lot of rules and does not always follow the code of conduct and SOP's of these dry-skinned and flatulent members of the Apos-tolic Order.  She is guilty of homicide and first degree murder: code KJ!

I love this day

they serve themselves fried saba when I'm on duty

Cirque du Soleil

Grandparents are the only criminals who can get away with their crimes.  They are quite easy to pardon too.  The parents of these grandchildren have no choice anyway, even if they have promised repeatedly to their heart of hearts that they will not give the old folks the chance to spoil their kids.  (They are normally adamant with their first child. The resoluteness changes after a string of babies come!  You know...)

Regardless, the insensitve lolo and lola accused of spoiling and condemned to stay in the corner, endure the torture and in the tiniest opportunity welcome watching over the apos when the good parents are busy with work or when they are on break- anytime.

So we pray for all grandparents okay?  Pray that their eyes won't fail them when they serve fish for dinner.  That's why, I know a grandpa who would rather givem lil ones, warmdogs!

Mommy Eli

Mommy Eli with her oldest granddaughter and beloved great grandchildren

Mommy and Sugar, her eldest son

87 going 88!  double infinity!

Her life is well-spent on meticulous cleanliness and knock-out sense of order.
She could be immovably right on politics, world events, people, weather, religion and history! Her collection of books (she read all of them) is astonishingly BIG SCALE.

She loves beautiful things and has the extraordinary ability to turn a small space into a palace,  and a wide area into a sanctuary.  She is the ultimate manager and CEO.  With 11 pregnancies and 8 children, she is a SUPERMOM!  In her youth, she was a celebrated beauty and brains a.k.a. "Supladang Ely" written on electric posts or carved out on trees, masterminded by suitors and admirers who never got to the first base.  

She believes in chocolates as panacea for moody dispositions and if you are a "yummymummy", (is that how they call alternative moms?) you are in for a good sermon on why children should have a dose of chocolates! She has a cupboard full of nuts and candies,  jellies, cookies and chocolates just for all her great grandchildren.  She loves them tremendously that the sight of them would make her smile in spite of unbearable pain!  

I have lost my own mother, Mary to cancer 28 years ago.  She was only 67.  Having witnessed Ely's long and healthy life, I think I will know how to live beyond 80.  Still not sure though if I want it.

I would not have known and appreciated myself better had I been her all time favorite, but I would like to believe that I.AM. now.  Oh I love her when she loves me!



 She surprised me with a love that only my mother could give, the last time I was sick.  She came up to Antipolo very often to bring food she cooked in spite of the inconvenience of travel, only to cheer me up.  She was worried for me!  She even endured an excruciatingly long pray-over that made her rheumatic arm shake while holding her hand over my head.  That and Sister Bernadette's act paved way for a miracle because of a formidable faith.

So why do I write this?  It is because I do not want to forget anything that should be remembered.  Every person's life that we witness is like a book of knowledge and wisdom. My second mother, Eli, who braves living life this long, has been such a blessing to us, to me.  Such difference our parents make when they stand with their trembling and aching knees as parents for as long as they can hold, to show us strength when they are weak and to give us answers to questions that only they could provide.  They hold the key to our existence and no matter how long we have lived, we will always be our parents' sons and daughters and she, the light and glue of the family. So Mighty Bond Mommy, cheers to more years!!

Long live Eli!