Paltik is not an extraordinary dog that does tricks. He's no showbiz. But what makes him standout is that he is our dog. He belongs to the family.
Society may see us as ordinary, even non-existent. But we are extraordinary to those who care about us. We matter.
This dish was prepared for us by Fr. Epoy, a superb cook in all respects. It's pasta with prawns, mozarella cheese, olive oil and spices. Pasta is al dente. Just perfect!
If you are the kind who likes vegetables more than meat, try cooking pasta with squash. hmmm... Doesn't sound so tasty to some, especially to my siblings. LOL!
I served it one time during my birthday. I knew my brother who abhors veggies would be coming for lunch. Since a squadron would be eating for lunch that time, I cooked a kilogram of pasta - al dente, of course - added ground lean meat, lots of tomatoes, then onions, garlic, cheese and not-so-favorite veggie: squash. I added it for its nutritional value, and also to make the kids eat vegetables.
Believe it or not, they licked the plate clean! And my brother asked for a second serving. It was then when I told them what they had just eaten. My brother turned green. LOL!
Okay, Eric, you are finally here. hahahaahha. Thanks for sharing your talents and for being patient with me and melyn. You are indeed one of a kind. Gabo, wherever you are, always remember that we keep you in our prayers.
Thank you all for giving me that "pat on the shoulder" when things seemed impossible to do or undo. Hmmmm... ok, let's pat each other's shoulder. :)
In the middle of all the discussions, finding other options, arguments and finally coming to a dead lock, somebody finally says, "I need coffee."
I am not a regular coffee drinker. In fact, I personally prefer milk and tea. But working with people who are coffee lovers who can't continue work without it somehow has made me change my opinion about coffee.
I can't exactly remember when I first tasted coffee. Who can anyway? But I remember drinking coffee for breakfast when I was in second grade. I was about 7 years old. It was an enticing aroma served together with the fried eggs, fried dried fish and the never missing rice on the breakfast table. I had a teacher who would sometimes ask us about what we had for breakfast. All my other classmates would say milk, rice, eggs, hotdog, luncheon meat.... etc. but never coffee. I remember feeling nervous when it was almost my turn to speak. I started to sweat at that time, thinking that I might give a wrong answer because noone had mentioned coffee yet. Then one classmate, I forgot who it was, mentioned that he had coffee for breakfast. My teacher was shocked. I remember her opening her mouth, and closing it again without saying anything. Then after some minutes of ackward silence, she told the class that it is not good for us to drink coffee at our age. That really made me feel like going under my desk. I felt like omitting coffee in my answer. In my mind, I started to practice what I'd say. Then I heard my classmate who was sitting in front of me starting to recite his answers. I started having strange sensations in my stomach. Yes, I can still vividly remember that morning session with my teacher for it left a strong impression on me. Finally, it was my turn. With cold, sweating hands, I blurted out my answer and said, "I had fried egg, fish, rice and..." I remember she patiently waited for the next word as she looked at me intently. Just then, my other classmates started to show their restlessness as a group started talking in hushed tones which sounded like buzzing bees to me. In what seemed like a split of a second, my teacher looked at the "buzzing bees" and without hesitation this time, I said very softly and very fast, "coffee." Phew! I believed she missed the last word for she finally acknowledged all of us for our answers. It was a relief for me and I kept my little secret until just a few years ago when my brothers, sisters and I related our elementary years to our young nephews and nieces who are not encouraged to drink coffee at their young age.
Of course they clammored that it's unfair. After some cajoling and clear-cut answers coming from my sisters in the medical field, they finally agreed not to touch coffee for now. Then somebody said, "Can I drink coffee when I'm 16?" It was our 5 year old tyke.
Now she has something to look forward to.
I spent a week's respite from the gruelling demands of school work in the highlands of Baguio.
This is the quaint chapel of the Benedictine monks, built on this holy ground where we stayed.