Recipe for a Disaster

1. Get comfy
2. Nurse a bottle of California Red
3. Drown in Adele's Music
4. Start smsing
(expect to be shocked of the result when you get sober enough to think)

Serves me right!

Ma's 70th

It's not everyday that you wake up with your mother still fussing over you. It can be stifling at times but it's comforting to note that somebody cares.

A living contradiction, that's what mom is. The only consistent thing she possess is always thinking what others would think or say. It is so old-fashioned. But that's her, old-fashioned.

At 70, albeit a little hard of hearing, she is still her feisty self. She knows what she wants and gets them a will. If she couldn't after trying so hard, she just keeps quiet and secretly hopes she gets noticed.

She celebrated her birthday with a group of young professionals which she seemed to enjoy. Her only frustration came when she was unable to upload her own pictures online when the guests finally left.

recipe for getting sick:

1. get on the bus
2. endure the afternoon heat and end of business traffic
3. work aimlessly for an hour or so
4. get lost to get dinner...it pays to follow your nose
5. walk some more and get wet in the rain
6. get shelter in an a/c establishment
7. start shivering...
         That was cutting the long story short for the FB version of this post.
         The main event for this trip to the city was the submission of the portfolio required of us prior to to the national assessment. Upon checking though, it still lacked dividers for the competencies and tabs for the requirements of each competency. By past 6pm, my stomach was already complaining (after having only half rice during lunch) so I left my folder at the center and went off for dinner with Glen (who have been around the city all afternoon) in tow. We were still deciding between KFC and DBB when we arrived at Burgos-Lopez Jaena intersection where we alit. And so off we went to DBB.Disoriented in the dark that I am, I relied so much on Glen's being the city boy but we still had a few wrong turns until the smell of roasting patties reached our direction
Each of us had fries while waiting for the ultimate burger which we didn't finish. 
At 7, shopping was already quiet. We walked northeast from DBB passing by St. John's Institute until we reached Siberia, then CSA-B where the rain caught up with us. We were only a block away to Starbucks but the rain pelted so hard, my jeans were already wet and I was beginning to feel cold.  And so we took a pedicab.
Inside Starbucks, the A/C was running full blast I had to rub my arms to keep them warm. Good thing, the hot mocha beverage I ordered was more chocolatey, it was comforting.
And what do you know, only Metro Bacolod was washed with rain. The earth was dry from Sum-ag going home.

Miracles do happen...

(and one happened on my historic 400th post)

Since Monday, leaving the office at exactly 5 p.m. was not an option. TMC1 Assessment requirements are scheduled to be submitted on the 22nd and we had to prepare additional materials for another learning outcome to complete our portfolio.

Night One, 17 Oct. - While I was busy printing the output of two long days spent in the office, I got an insisting call from mom. It was unusual since I already cut her unli plan but still I ignored it. But then I got curious and called home and heard excited voice exclaiming, "Dang, nagbata na si Coco. Isa patay" (Dang, Coco gave birth. One did not make it).

The news caught me off guard. We were unprepared. Tatay has been bugging me for weeks to buy tarp and have the dog house ready for birthing but procastination got the better of me. The pups decided to come out early, so we just had to make do with what we have.

I was in a state of panic, seconds after hearing the news. I packed my bag hurriedly and requested for the office to be closed and ran off to the other shop to get sis into the action. We were off as soon as she locked up. I called Tata ( the sire's owner) to break the news.

Mom found three live puppies in the doghouse (one puppy had an injured leg and one was still which looked to have been crushed to death by a heavy weight. I couldnt bear looking at it very long. The still figure was so small and so frail. They all have the same color as Coco and Brave, golden brown.)She had coco stationed by the main door and the little things inside an emptied drawer lined with blankets and paper. Their bodies were still wet.

We had no idea what time they arrived but soon I learned that the interval between two pups was 10 min. I knew that because not long after we arrived, I notice Coco looking up at my crouching form as if to say something. She panted a bit and started to sit with her back in my direction. No sooner I found myself catching a miracle wrapped in its wet and warm amniotic sac with my two hands. I was too overwhelmed to speak.

Apparenlty, Coco has had enough practice already she got the sac open and the umbilical cord cut in no time and started cleaning her baby up. I helped clearing the nostril, hoping I did it right the whole time. The time was 5:27 on my BB. Ten minutes later, another one arrived. When they were almost dry and their coat visinle, they were both showing a much lighter hair color. Sis named the first one Limbo and mom got the honor of naming the runt Lucky.

The night was a long one. The shooter advised to buy Bonna and to feed the little ones every two hours. When Glen arrived, he only had some droppers so Mary went out to buy two 2-oz feeding bottles (which by the way cost P73.5 each).

By some unwritten agreement, I was tasked to take the night shift. The most amazing thing is that the puppies were consistent. They made that peculiar sound every two hours to signal feeding. I also get to wipe off the very first poop they ever excreted. Sleep for me came at 4a.m. I was feeling none too good. While the two latecomers were so demanding over food (sucking heartily everytime), Bella (the one with an injured right foreleg, more that once during the night, maybe one or two bro or sis had been sucking on that injured leg. That must have hurt so much) was not asking for food at all.

So I wasnt surprised to hear the news that by the afternoon of the 18th, she was gone.

Coffee, anyone...?

The trouble about being 38 and still living with your parents is that they think you're still 18. You have to let them know when you leave the house where you are going and when you are going to be home. I must have been the most dutiful child in this regard until last weekend.

After a gluton-ous dinner of cheese sticks, fried chicken and two light beers on a chilly rainy night, I succumbed to the lightest temptation of going to the big city to grab some REAL coffee. The time was 7:30 but in a very small city like ours, it was already late.

The time spent at Starbucks was only a quarter of that spent travelling but it was enough to finish a paid hot drink, answer a short survey and win another drink.

It was an adventure I haven't had in years. It was fun, I'm thinking of getting some REAL coffee at ...hmmm where to next.

applied math

Without a means to calculate how far I go each day I spent on my road to 27, I counted the steps I made halfway through the circuit  that I've been keeping all this time. And I got this figures.

550 * 2 * 4 =    8800
1100 * 2     =    2200
                       11,000

11,000        =  3.3528
3280.84

The first line show that half of the circuit measures 550 ft. I made four rounds last Wednesday. The second line shows how far I walked from the house to the vacant lot and back. Adding the figures up together, this means that I finished more than 3 kilometers in 40 minutes.

I don't know what these figures mean. The thing is I no longer feel my lungs burn from jogging at least a distance between three electrical posts.

Adding some legwork on dribbling and I should be ready for an afternoon of scrimmage with some time colleagues back at Lear soon.

the road to 27...back to square one

Lawin and lpa's that hover around the archipelago were responsible for a lot of things.

The rainy mornings made waking up a struggle.
The wet concrete was not inviting.
The lack of company was discouraging.

I was only making excuses of course.

Sis was away the whole week, I had to mind the house and its "heir". I had to leave not too early in the morning nor to get to it too late in the night as to give those with idle hands something to process in their evil minds.

I started walking again yesterday after almost five days of taking it easy. This time stretching was foremost on the activity. I pulled something somewhere in my thighs last week I had to endure the pain for three days.

I usually make three rounds added to the walk from the house and back. I started late today and only made two which I compensated with running about a hundredor two hundred meters.

My weight has not changed these last weeks. I figure it would be another month of serious walking before I ever get to run (run like I did on the pitch I wanted to make a goal).