where the moon shines

My Thursday didn’t start out all too well – woke up at 4am with a mild headache that progressed to a migraine. I couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how many times I changed from one sofa to another and then to my own bed. I twisted and turned, used a massager, closed my eyes, relaxed and tried to meditate. After three more hours of interrupted sleep and a lot of pain, I gave in to the call of the meds. It took an hour or two before I was pain-free – but far from comfortable, I could still feel it lurking.

I had given in and called Alfred too after 2 days of not talking. I was left alone at home by then, and I don’t do alone too well when I’m sick. I didn’t have to ask, he volunteered to come over and he even brought food – chicken curry that his mom cooked. What an angel!

And though I still wasn’t feeling a hundred percent this afternoon, I went back to work and spread the virus. Uhm-hmm, me and my runny nose were back in the office, and this time we actually spent the whole nine hours there, versus the previous day’s six.

So it wasn’t a bad day after all. Really, it’s not how it started, but how it ends.

On another note, seems that for this Scrapbook Saturday, I will actually be posting on time and with a new layout at that. I started working on a layout the other day and I just have some finishing touches and journalling to add to it. It’ll be very different from the two layouts I’ve already posted.

Anyway, I’m off to do some reading about Joomla because I’m thinking of using it for future projects.

It’s the 29th. A workday. I am here at home though.

Last month, I had planned to take a one-day leave for July the 29th to see Daughtry live in concert at Eastwood City. They are here for a one-night show for their Filipino fans.

And I missed/am missing it.

Alfred wasn’t interested in seeing the band. He wasn’t really into American Idol so he isn’t a fan of AI graduates. He did see Daughtry several times when he was on the show. He referred to the rocker as Vin Diesel’s brother even then. I didn’t go about asking other friends if anyone was interested in seeing the concert. So here I am, trying not to think about it anymore. Nice try, huh?

So why am I home on a work night then? I’m sick.

Seriously, how much icky mucus can there be? Bleh.

Sunday night turned out to be kids’ night. No, the kids weren’t around here. Rather, we spent almost the entire evening watching kids on TV.

First up: Pinoy Dream Academy’s Little Dreamers.

By golly, those kids have got oodles of talent. Really. I love watching them and I truly believe there is more talent in them than their teen/adult scholar counterparts.

Cristina was named this week’s Outstanding Little Dreamer, and she deserves the award. She’s always very energetic in her performances. You could check out a video of her performance here. Hers was the last number in the video in that post. Check out the Archives for performances of the other little dreamers. You will be WOWed by their talents.

Later in the evening, ABS-CBN had a feature story on the two faces of malnutrition in the Philippines. On the one hand, there’s the more common scene of skin and bones children who, because of poverty, and/or neglect, do not eat enough. On the other, obese children who give off a false front of being healthy but are actually are at high risk for heart disease and diabetes.

The Health and Social Welfare bureaus have programs to address the growing problem, but I know they are barely scratching the surface. Development groups and NGOs are also there with their own feeding programs and health programs for moms and their children. But how can we really save more children from dying of hunger or obesity?

With the food crisis hanging over the air, many of this kids are even more compromised than ever. But really, it’s not just the poor who can’t afford the enough healthy food for the entire family who’s in danger. In fact, I have a nephew who the doctor said was malnourished. It is sad. He has an enormous appetite and I’ve never really seen him be picky with his food. But I guess he’s not eating healthy.

And the overweight/over-indulged kids featured in the story have become too big for their age because their diets weren’t carefully planned by the adults caring for them. So it’s not just money needed to ensure that kids are healthy and grow up to become adults themselves.

It wasn’t mentioned anywhere in the feature, but this got me to thinking about how the pending law on Reproductive Health is being vehemently opposed by the Catholic Church here. I mean really, I am all for educating parents-to-be before they bring more children in the world, that’s a long term solution. But we’ve come to a desperate point already and government has the responsibility to at least make available various options to allow couples to choose the best family planning method for themselves. I just don’t see what’s so wrong about that. I don’t think the law endorses abortion, does it? I mean, c’mon!

Here you go. Scrapbook Saturday #2:

I did this page shortly after Adam’s birth. He’s much bigger and lots more cuter these days, as I hear

Full credits are found here.

Don’t forget to visit other participants to

When I left the office 20 minutes ago, I was not feeling well. Logic dictates that I go straight to bed upon getting home. Here I am, clicking away instead.

I just can’t stay away from my computer. I am drawn to it. And maybe it’s all mental, but I feel better already. No joke.

Anyhoo. My dad’s job takes him to Mindanao several times a month. He came home today from a three-day trip. He brought home yummy cheese bread sticks. Hmm, I can still smell them in my mind. They’re very similar to the cheese pies that the old SATS Women’s Cooperative Canteen served when I was a young girl. I can’t ever find those pies anywhere else in the Metro, but I did find them in Bohol when we were there last. These ‘stick’ version came from Cagayan de Oro.

This cheese pie isn’t a pie that has crust and filling. It’s more like a cheese pizza pie. Haha. It’s all cheese bread. I am not good at describing food in English. Basta, paper-plate sized sya, and you divide it like you do any other pizza. The smell is heavenly. Okay, the taste probably won’t take you to cloud nine and it’s not super special, but it’s one that I love. I’m not sure if it’s really the cheese pie, or the memories it brings back.

The thing is, anything that reminds me of the old Canteen automatically triggers memories of my Aunt Leesah too. She worked there as a cashier. In the rare times that she would let me go out at night when I was a kid, that’s where we’d usually head to just for an evening snack. I still miss her. Hey Auntie, if you have Internet in Heaven, send me an e-card! I turned a year older again!

Back to the Canteen. Each Coop member had a tab in the canteen and since all of the adult women in our family (along with most, if not all, adult females in the community) were members of the Coop, we could get anything with just a signature. Of course the cashiers knew all the kids’ parents too, so no one could really overcharge or eat on someone else’s tab. We called it, palista. Signalling the cashier to just add it to our mothers’ tab. There were even forms printed for that and we’d have to sign every time we got anything from the Canteen.

Aside from Cheese Pie, I always loved eating Guinataang Halo-halo. In fact, if it was available, they’d reserve one serving of the merienda dish just for me after I complained one time when they sold out everything before I arrived one afternoon. Hay, how can I describe ginataang bilo-bilo?

The Canteen closed down, reopened under new management, and closed again. Now, a cousin of mine rents the space and runs her own canteen. But it doesn’t give me quite the same homey feeling that it used to. It hasn’t been the Canteen I grew up in, not for a long time.

I don’t think that it was the change in management, or the change in cooks and other faces, that made the difference. Rather it’s the community itself that has changed in my eyes, and in my heart too. To be honest, nothing there really feels like home anymore. And I am sad to acknowledge that I feel this way.

Every person has to belong somewhere. Aside from my family, I thought the SATS community was where I belonged, where we all belonged. I consider it my hometown. But I just haven’t felt that way lately.

Oh well.