Stories from Home

Passion, as defined by Merriam-Webster, is intense, driving or overmastering feeling or conviction. Alternatively, it means a strong liking or desire for or devotion to some activity, object or concept. I admire people who are passionate on what they do.

Take this old pianist as an example. Before the start of the 4-day weekend, we walked past this old man at the mall while looking for a place to eat. We took note of him because a number of people were smiling watching and hearing him play and he was stringing a song from Moulin Rouge. He played the piece with so much gusto and passion that it emanates through every note that he struck.

And because we were so moved, we chose to eat outside of the restaurant so we can hear him play.

He was well-cheered by the mall-goers. Had you been lining up for J.Co donuts last Wednesday, it wouldn’t be so bad for you.

To prove a point that he’s a good entertainer, here he is giving his number to a woman (who I suppose wants to hire him for an event) and being appreciated by two old men.

As for me, I am the ultimate stalker.

Like most of you, I spent the long weekend in my parents’ home and I had a reflective Good Friday. I woke up at 5 to attend the early morning station of the cross.

I had  a meaningful reflection after a 2-hour walk around the barangay and hearing the priest’s sharing after each station. It’s a wonderful experience early in the morning. I sent a message to Person A suggesting that we should do this together some time… in the province. Maybe on our first Holy Week as Mr. & Mrs. *kilig* I am so babaw.

At about 3, I went back to church to attend the Pasyon (that’s in Bisaya, because I am Bisaya). This is done after the siete palabras and the service is pretty much like a mass with the Christ’s journey to death shared in the Gospel. The second part of the Pasyon was kissing of the cross. People line up to kiss the cross and my hypochondriac self automatically switched to

“What virus will I get from doing so?” I resolved it by saying “God will take care of me and shoo away all the viruses of the people who kissed Him before I do.” After each person, the sacristans wipe the cross with what smells like alcohol… though my mind is saying the cotton might not get sanitized enough. I overanalyze like that. The last part is receiving the Holy Communion. Pasyon ended with the procession of Christ's "dead body".

It was an interesting Good Friday and I encourage every Catholic to properly observe it.

Now on to food! What’s a report without a chronicle on what I ate. I found these red bananas on my mom’s dining table.

It looks normal and tastes good if you don’t mind the mineral-y after taste.

Then my aunt and my cousins and nephews from Cebu are also home so we’re spending part of our time with them – with the rest of the family. Here's dinner last night.

Grilled fish (aka as sinugbang isda sa bato). 

The meat is tasty, tender and absolutely perfect. Everyone was whining that the face of the fish looks scary and ugly. I really don’t care…  I wanted them to whine while I consume all of it.

Some shell-fish which I din’t partake of because I was too busy with the fish and my peyborit kinilaw!

Raw bangus cooked in vinegar, tabon-tabon, a mix of herbs and spices and all the dirt from my Papa’s hand because he prepared this himself! Hahaha!

There were still a lot of food on the table and it’s absolutely all fresh and good. One of the best things about Dipolog.

This morning, I had my favorite sikwate (chocolate drink from Tablea).

Chocolate = shokolit =  sikolate = sikwate. Get the evolution? Another all-time peyborit!

And fried dried pusit! Our househelp still needs to perfect her frying skills because this one is so chewy and … chewy.

Ayayay! The things I can rarely get in Manila.

Oh, I also did some baking this morning. Tadaaa…. Presenting my brownie fudge with the sweetest-smelling frosting!

Shhh… Don’t tell anyone that I cheated by using the ingredients and instruction from this box.

Lastly, I am thinking about the progress of our wedding monogram when I noticed this marking at home

And the lower photo is what's on our gate… you see, my Papa’s initial starts with an “O” and my mama’s is a “G”…

And there you have it, my folks beat me to the monogram thing!

On another note, I’ve been catching up on my reading. 

I am happy to say that is a well-written piece. I wanted something controversial, yet intellectual.

Hahaha! Choosy pa!

So, I’m really hoping that everyone gets to reflect, rest and enjoy the Holy Week.

xoxo,

-(“,)-*wink*