Sunrise landing

A familiar land mass.

An island pronged to the mainland by two elegant bridges.

In the background, sunrise progressed as the plane touched down. The series looks inverted because of the moving location of the camera with reference to the sun.

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Good morning, Mactan.

Good morning, sleepyhead.

Pansit, bow.

Pansit is noodles. I would like to eat it with rice, with or without other dishes . I choose to disregard any rolling of eyeballs I get from anyone around. Egg white can be eaten with fish (both protein) and orange with lemon (both citrus). Why can't carbo with carbo? Is it really gross culinary misbehaviour?
























It's just me.

Though I suspect, I'm not the only one.

finding rest in chores

For some, it is knitting. Others cross stitch. I like walking but the equivalent to knitting and cross stitch for me is not walking but washing clothes. Yes, doing the laundry. That is, manually (though I use machine depending on size and cloth). I like doing it, something Embee has not grasped yet after 11 years. He still steals the dirty clothes and bring them to a laundry shop every now and then.

Washing clothes braces my mind in neutral. It simmers pungent feelings and evaporates unwanted anxieties. Concentrating on the task at hand, I feel all other thoughts are swept away. Even when we had househelp before, I didn't mind helping her sometimes. Two people washing can have a very good conversation without adversely affecting results.

As passionate as I am with washing though, I dislike ironing and re- attaching buttons ( never mind asking about looking for them or shopping for their look alikes). For the latter, glues are preventive. Thus the occasional arranging of clothes on the table for gluing.

Can I try putting that?, he says.

He did.

Oh, that is too much.














yes.

There is rest (& domestic joy) in chores, though ordinary.
For me and some others, the laundry.

(and rhymes).

Surprises in the constant

There are still surprises in the usual paths we take. The road to our work place, the people working there included.

Noticeable in front of St Joseph's College in E. Rodriguez almost everyday is a man named Mang Bert. He is the traffic man. He accompanies pedestrians crossing, too.


















May they be multiple or alone. May they be men,


















or women.

I like this one. She paused and appeared a little afraid at first because of a speedy vehicle coming.


















He motions.


















Later she walks more relaxed, he still accompanied her to other side.


















It must feel good to work making others feel safer.


















For me to notice more surprises on my path, I would have to make my pace slower.

Have you ever felt tired from too much leisure? It is something I always try to avoid but not today. Infrequently seen loved ones are here, and going tomorrow.

















But we have to sleep now. We have become like the lump of hair on the girl's right.

Of mentors, gratitude and withering

Bumped into a previous mentor. When he was my angiography consultant, he was probably just a little more than my age now. With him this morning were his wife and son. The son is likely my age when I was his father's student. Life is fast. Really fast. I felt I was finding another way to calculate time in unexpected circumstances. Years ago, his son was just starting med school, now he is nearly finished with residency. I could palpate myself aging. How come Sir looked so much the same? His wife though has changed. She looks younger. I didn't even recognize at first.

Seriously, we all wither. But gratitude does not change. He was one of those who never let anyone down.




















Later, post walking meal in a chinese restaurant, with two other walkers, reminded me chickens wither faster.

rewriting

A sunny morning that gave way to a rainy afternoon. It is not uncommon but the intensity of change was remarkable today. It is like an author who invented his characters, entwined their lives, made them eat or sleep, warped their time and fast forward their gaits. Only a little later, to decide to banish all of that by rewriting.

That is just a thought

...which I plan to act out.

A busy day. From household chores to going to Roosevelt with Embee in the morning, and to my duty in the afternoon. I rewrite my plan to clean, to wash, to "re-place" the buttons. Who doesnt deserve a curl on the bed with a good book? Outside, the sky seems to favor what I plan to do.