great moan, circa '15

Ah, writing is my one enormous passion. The downside is only a very few single souls in my circle likes to write, go in depth with creativity on their free flow essays and describe their study of the human condition. They like to post pictures on Facebook or moan on shout outs, is that the same? Even one of the guys (a sleb) who illustrates in detail his hopes and frustrations on the state of politics and pop culture has abandoned his blog for more than a year and concentrates merely on his Twitter account. He should have continued dissecting the state of affairs, our lives and politics.

But those who write are those who read. Maybe I'm in the indifferent circle, those who are blasé about words and sentences but certainly enjoys judging visual arts or pictures of your child growing up and photos of your travels to places they've never been or never will be able to reach as well as photographs of  parties you were not included because you're not likeable.  Anyway, in this era of  innovation, a picture of food is already a moment.

In my view, nothing beats the blog or a book. We should write in any language. I couldn't find my book of Hiligaynon love stories written by my friend's grandfather. I couldn't find my friend's first story book for kids. She self-published, which was amazing. I shouldn't have lost my copy.

One of these days .... my friends will write a screenplay. Or a novel. Wish, wish, wish.

trinkets

As good persons, shouldn't we be all kind and generous?

In hindsight all those friends (and their kids) who showered my daughter with a profusion of presents during the holiday season are deeply kind and generous.

It's nice to be remembered. It feels wonderful to be included in the list of so-called friends and acquaintances.

During the winter season, it's dark and freezing, and despite the advent of texts and Facebook greetings, I still prefer tradition, the Christmas card, to behold, as an ornament for the tree, to display on the foyer.

All throughout the year as birthdays pass and as we get older and somebody sends a note through the post, isn't that better than just a mere Facebook post?

lured to crafts

My mom's birthday was on the 9th of January. I would have loved to blog on that day but I was besieged by a colossal series of coughing (until now). It's the cold weather. I miss my mother. I miss her insights.

Surrounded by haberdashery and crafts growing up, my mother could crochet. I remember her projects i. e. bedspreads and table covers. She also loved to cross stitch. Cross stitch is not that hard but a finished craft needs commitment and framing. I miss her framed works in Bacolod. It seems we have to starve ourselves to be able to go home this year.

Now, about crochet. I've been trying to learn since I was nine. Of course, there were always other stuff to do, in the past 30 years. There wasn't a gargantuan push to pick up any kind of craft for the sake of relieving stress. Life and earning one's keep takes precedence. Then here we are, in this decade, this millenium.

I remember learning about crochet tension from Lola Cel (my mom's maternal aunts were uber cool but I'm biased). There was my mom during those wide-eyed existence but guiding me now in my journey through the stitches and patterns is youtube, a saving grace, a very helpful, handful device.

I chose crochet over knitting as the influential personalities of my childhood were into crochet, as I've said. My lolas were also into embroidery, I was in awe of their work as I grow up, all I did as a kid was stare into their delicate creations, that in addition to being talented seamstresses.

Actually, I thought about crochet when I saw the fascination with looms on celebrity instagrams. I just concurred that crochet is more useful. So far, I have no complaints.

ever yet so again

It's another year. We're halfway through January and it's the first month in the Gregorian calendar although in the work calendar, there's still February and March to sort out the year and April is the month for beginnings and resolutions in real time. I can't wait for the sun shining in April. We're so dependent on artificial lights during January and it hurts the electric bill.

For some sort of trivial exfoliation of old, annoyingly archaic habit of procrastination, I've read somewhere that not a few have read a hundred books in 2015 alone and I haven't finished at least one, so embarrassing. I read so slow, one can't even laugh about the fact. I haven't been to the theatre to watch plays or the theatre to engage in new motion picture releases. I used to watch every Jennifer Aniston movie screenings whether it's at an Odeon nearby or all the way to Marble Arch, because it's the only cinema in the entire London that fits my schedule. But the past two years, I haven't even bothered on Sky Premiere.

I'll take stock and reflect, definitely. Read, learn, remember.
Eat more carrots. Cook (as befits the photo above, my daughter's toys). Move.

Let's check this list next week.