Tuesday, March 31, 2009

A full day

and I'm tired now.

This a.m., my son and I competed for the bathroom. I gave in to him because he had to meet up with someone to gather their requirements for their application to study abroad. When he was done, I bathed and before I was done dressing up, my tutee arrived. Had her wait a bit before finally joining her. How I wish she would relax a bit. She seems so tense, algebra intimidates her no end.

Meanwhile, while I was tutoring, the driver of the Wheelmobile texted. He was outside. I had told him 10:30. It was 9:30 and he was here. So I told husband to use him to go to the doctor. Yesterday, at Punta Fuego, husband was taking pictures and jumped for a better angle. But instead of grass, he landed on a hole in the ground and fell on his side. And he was alone. Son chose to stay in the casita, reading, as did I. Luckily, husband managed to get up and drive back to the casita. The fall was nothing, he said, possibly a sprain. Son drove back from Batangas to Manila. Stopped in tagaytay for a late lunch. Details on the PF experience soon.

While husband had his foot x-rayed in a lab along our street, he had the Wheelmobile go back to the house. After he assured me he could walk back, I left for the bank to get a bank certification which is required for my son's application. Then off to Makati.

Initially I thought of dropping by my sister's to get the receipt of Alliance France for translations requested. I had asked her to bring it to AF after I faxed it to her to save one trip to Makati. But I was famished. I texted my friend who's in town from The Netherlands and we agreed to meet for lunch at Power Plant. I decided AF and my sister's house could wait.

While waiting for friend in Banana Leaf, I listened as an old person played on the piano. At first I was sure the person was female because he had on a pink long-sleeve top . Then I thought, he has a hat. And the build was so masculine. I thought he might be male.


What music did he play as I sat alone waiting? Song for Anna. I think I posted in this site or some other blog how the song pierces my heart and those of my sisters each time we hear it, because we so associate it with Mama. A year or so before she died, she'd play this piece on the piano, she who hadn't touched the piano for years. Maybe to leave us something to remember her by? And a few months before she passed away, my friend from The Netherlands who was then my college classmate gave me a cassette tape, one of whose songs was Song for Anna. Remembering that now, maybe Mama wanted me to recall that connection. We played that tape as her remains were carried out of the church to the cemetery after mass in our home town. Anyway, as I listened to the music this morning, I was confused. More than anything emotional, I was just tired and hungry. So why the music from Mama, which always signifies for me comfort from her because I usually hear it unexpectedly when I'm worried about something. Perhaps I was worried about my husband's foot more than I cared to acknowledge? And the piano player played the piece whole or maybe more. See the melody goes round and round and there is always the tendency not to know where to go next and when to end. And the song the pianist played after was Love Story which mama also loved. What was Mama trying to tell me today? I don't really know.

After lunch at Banana Leaf with best friend, hied off in the Wheelmobile to my sister's to get the receipt so I could claim the translations. Payment for the translation of one birth certificate and one affidavit of support is P2120. The affidavit of support is P1220, balance of P900 is for the birth certificate. Steep? Left an affidavit executed by best friend for translation and that means another P1220. And guess what, as I was on my way home, I read the translation and noted some errors; my mother's family name was listed as BIEN. and the corrections on the side of my son's birth certificate weren't typed as they should have. But my maiden name or my son's middle name was spelled correctly. Hahaha. Did the one translating know one of my sisters? How come she unwittingly spelled it correctly? Funny...

Friday, March 27, 2009

Hodgepodge

Last night was the graduation of the Grade 7 boys in the school where my husband teaches. As is his wont, at the end of the party, he gets a flower arrangement from one of the tables to take home to me. Here are some pictures:

Tonight, son came home from Serendra where he and his classmates unwound after their exams this afternoon. He brought home the best tasting cupcakes I've ever tasted for the simple reason that they were a surprise: cupcakes by Sonja. Pictures of the lovely pasalubongs:

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Benjamin

Dale hasn't been gone a week (he passed away 19 March) but his vet advised we get a "replacement" and so I began the search for one. A friend who knew Dale said a relative had a half-breed lab that was really ugly, did we want it? She also had an askal who was pretty, did we want it? Then she said a relative had a lab for sale, did we want it?

Initially, husband and I were inclined to get the free half-breed and it wouldn't have been too difficult to check him out as he stays in a house along a street just perpendicular to ours. But son said he'd be big-- and son wanted a dog he could bring inside the house. So subconsciously, we didn't get round to checking HB out.

Last Sunday, aware that the Manila Bulletin has classified ads galore, I got a copy. I don't get MB precisely for that reason - too many ads. But last Sunday, I did for the same reason I avoid it. I called just one number, the rest were cellphone numbers and I was too lazy to text and it would have been too expensive to call. The one who took my call said to call again Monday as there wasn't anyone in the office. I was taken aback there, but oddly, I called Monday. Again the one who knew about the puppies was out, could I text that person instead? THe lady also informed me the dog was in Alfonso Cavite. What? SO where was the number I was calling? Quezon City, I was told. COuldn't the dog be brought over? She said to get in touch with the cellphone number she gave. I did.

The dog available was a beagle. Before long, the man I spoke with sent a picture through the cell. Three pictures in fact. He agreed to get the puppy from Cavite provided I was sure to buy the puppy. I promised I would. Our date was Tuesday.

Tuesday he sent a video. He was in Cavite. But it was the video of a different dog, not the mostly white with brown spots. This time it was the mostly brown (they call it lemon) with a few areas of white. I asked him about it and he said he had sent the pictures of Alice. He apologized. And he asked if I still wanted to get the puppy. I said yes.

So now we have Benjamin, a beagle born 24 December 2008. And one of his vaccinations took place on my birthday. And we got him yesterday, 3 months after he was born and on the 31st death anniversary of my mother and my brother's 36th death anniversary.

Husband picked him up by himself and while at first he was seated beside my husband, along the way he jumped onto my husband's lap and stayed there till they got home. Son texted while in the resto to ask if doggie was at home. I said yes. He swooned when he saw Benjamin finally and set out looking for something for Benjamin to sleep on. we got one of our old pillows and put atop it an old, tattered towel. Not content, my son looked for another tattered towel to serve as blanket for Benjamin. And so he slept. Soundly. Peacefully.

This morning he had his first breakfast in the house. Guess what he eats per the breeder? Raw chicken wings and neck. I asked the maid if they had any, she said they did. But the neck had no more skin. Guess why?

Breathe deeply before reading: for the past almost 9 years this maid has been with me, week in and week out, she removes the skin of the chicken and throws it away because it is too fatty. My gulay. What a waste. I asked, "Didn't you even think of offering it to me so I could have chicken skin chicharon?" she shook her head. That's how thoughtful she is. Darn. What a waste. To think so many people go hungry, and there she is throwing away chicken skin. I mean, wow.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Dale, RIP

Dale, our Dalmatian born 18 April 2008 is gone. In the past 9 years he underwent two surgeries for kidney stones. Yes, Dalmatians have a propensity for developing kidney stones and Dale was more the rule than the exception.

The night before Maid C left, she said he was becoming weak. Maid C was Dale's main caregiver: feeding him, etc. I thought it was just because she was leaving and he felt it. When I brought up the possibility, she concurred. He'd not eat, she said. I asked how his urination was, because in the times he was subjected to surgery, that would be the telling sign: very little urine, blood in the urine, etc. She said it was okay. Maid C left last Tuesday.

Tuesday morning, Maid A told me that Maid C had lied. Dale had been throwing up and had hardly been eating for several days. Yesterday, I had the vet come over. Dale's bladder was near bursting point. She asked if I wanted euthanasia. I agreed. I was sick in the room so we'd communicate via her cell phone and my land line. When I saw the papers I had to sign for the request for euthanasia, it occurred to me to ask my husband to come home. I texted my son about it even if I knew he had a long test in a few hours. Dale was his pet after all, though he had somehow outgrown Dale. He asked if the procedure had to be done right away. I knew that meant he wanted to see Dale alive for the last time, at least. So I didn't sign the papers and texted the doctor about it, she understood.

I heard mass and called out to Dale on my way out. He just looked at me. When I came home from mass (feast of St. Joseph, patron of a happy death), I called out to him but by then the car was obscuring his cage from my sight. Husband said he tried to stand up at my voice and fell to his side. But he was still alive.

Son arrived and said hello at 9 pm. Husband left for the press and came home. Dale was still breathing.

This a.m., when I saw my husband sporting the downturned lips, I knew Dale was gone. yesterday, I cried a river aware of his imminent passing. When I learned he was finally gone, I smiled, aware he's now in dog heaven, experiencing no more pain. He had been moaning yesterday.

I have a lot of memories to carry me through, but do not have the guts to type them now without shedding tears. See, they are beginning to flow now at the mere thought.

Dale now lies buried in the garden. Soon, I'll ask that special plants be put atop him. I'm sure he'll make them bloom and grow.

thank you dale for the nine years when you made us smile and laugh, when you protected us from harm. Darn the tears are flowing. Luckily, I'm alone in the room. Sigh...

I guess while the tears are flowing I can afford to recall those memories. We picked dale up at the vet in Project 7 where we got him. he sat in a cage beside me at the back of the car. He'd sit on my lap days later and go under my wheelchair. For a time his cage was in the room, yes, it was because I wanted to see him all the time. But later, we decided he had to stay in the garage.

He was a wild dog, Dale was. he was forever in his cage. there was one night we allowed him to roam free and the next day, everything was in disarray. He was wild and irrepressible but virtually harmless. We had him trained to shake hands, sit, stand and so I'd sometimes command him thus. I always about bread sticks for him but lately they haven't been available. In the past, when my supply was constant, each time he'd see me in the garage, he'd bark, aware that it would mean some treats for him because then I'd ask the maid to get him two or three sticks. Then he'd quite down and eat them. Sigh, dale, I thought you'd live forever. But still, thank you for giving us almost nine years of you. You outlived so many of the cats in the house, cats who were supposed to have nine lives. dale, thank you.