What a long rainy weekend it was. I finally understand what habagat means. I remember Papa explaining how a typhoon can influence the atmosphere even from very far away. And without a doubt, this is what we saw.
We had made plans for a rain or shine visit to Kawayan Cove, and indeed it poured, but yes we went.
Our visitor came from Paris and was dismayed at the weather, but she still went down to the beach on our last day, promising all the worried oldies that she would go into the water only up to the ankles. I don’t know how she could resist the lure of the carousing waves after a year of living away from the ocean.
Batelco made good on its promise of a brownout that night, and so at about 2 a.m. when the power went off, we opened all our windows. I think I saw the moon peek briefly through the clouds.
The wind howled and whistled and the sound of crashing waves made me wonder if Ineng had decided to make a personal appearance. It was like I was again in Kuilima, on the north shore of Oahu on that moonlit night more than a lifetime ago. We were closer to the ocean there and the waves sounded like thunder.
We went home Sunday afternoon. Driving through Tagaytay was foggy and wet. The fruit and flower vendors wore raincoats. Sales were slow. I was tempted to stop at Tootsie’s for late merienda, but decided the weekend had been too full of calories to, now on top of all that, feast on their delicious ube palitaw.
It was an exquisite weekend, regardless. It is definitely true that Kawayan Cove is beautiful “come rain or come shine.”
Reading the headlines and watching TV news can be alarming, exasperating. To make matters worse, we have an overactive and over-reactive social media with biased opinions that won’t quit. Commercials would almost be a nice break, but there are too many of them, and now with 2016 candidates flexing their muscles, TV is getting to be a bore.
The political scene annoys me. It is not amusing to see the scramble for power. Do you wonder why anyone in his right mind wants to run for office?
This I know.
There are dark souls who operate from greed. It is a treasure hunt, a golden opportunity to fill their pockets to overflowing. And for those with noble hearts and good intentions, it will be nothing but a thankless job, damned if you do and damned if you don’t.
That famous line about “public service” no longer rings true. Considering the track record of some people in office, it sounds more like a fairy tale.
In all my years, I have known only a handful who were ready to respond to the call of duty. Like good soldiers they fell in, without hesitation, no hemming and hawing. Others just as committed did not have the stomach for the stench of politics, and instead looked for ways to serve and still made a difference.
Is there anyone like them today?
Last week my grandson invited me to his birthday dinner at a place I had never heard of before.
12/10 is a Japanese restaurant with the ambience of an art gallery, located in the armpit of Makati.
If you are looking for the usual tempura and sukiyaki, you are in the wrong place. I asked for rice and the server looked at me like I had said a bad word. They are unbending about their menu. Food items are served and shared in the style of Spanish tapas.
Every morsel was delightful and the Wagyu mini roast to die for.
After dinner I was tired (read: stuffed) and begged off from a nightcap at my son’s home. As we got on the Skyway, there was a sea of red lights spread out in front of us. It was bumper to bumper all the way to Alabang. There was no turning back. No one moved! It was pouring. I was not happy. Should I have called the archbishop?
I received a letter from a friend who thinks I can help with her marital woes. I ask, who died and made me Dear Abby?
It’s the usual drama. Dad and Mom are old and tired. The children are grown and on their own. Even the grandchildren are young men and women now.
The couple hardly talks to one another and they are living their remaining years in a beautiful empty house. “I can hear my own echo,” she says.
What happened to memories?
How can we forget the magic that brought us together, how it was when we first met and fell in love? Remember how time stood still?
But even the wildest of passions can fade with time. Love must be tended every day, nurtured with tender care. Or it dies.
My friends fought for their love and married against all odds. They were happy. He was thoughtful, brought her flowers. Then life happened.
I can feel their loneliness. But what can I say?
Inspirational author Ritu Ghatourey writes what every woman longs to hear.
“I will love you always… when your face is full of the lines of every smile you have ever smiled, of every surprise I have seen flash through your eyes, when every tear you have ever cried has left its mark upon your face, I will treasure you all the more, because I was there to see it all.”
Listen to the love in these words! Who needs roses!