In Baguio, I have a room with a view. It is where I work (think, write, research, communicate with story sources and colleagues). In the lowlands, I face a yellow-painted wall with a calendar tacked on it. In a few days, I'll be saying a reluctant goodbye to this room which we call The Office. The LO (little one) has turned it into her office, too; it's just that her idea of one is to haul her stuff from the nursery and play behind my chair or beside my desk. I know her development as a child is on track because she talks to her bears and dinosaurs, lately a pig named Peppa. Sings to them.
Dusk hour is when I turn on the lamp light. The desk is a mess, but as I like to say (and this is borne out by research), creatives are messy.
When the YouTube is on, she knows me well enough to request "Sumi Jo, Blue Danube." Of course, my husband is impressed, so is the LO's mother Kimi--that Kai can sing the chorus part of "Ha ha, ha ha" to Ms. Jo's singing, identify some of the orchestra instruments. After the singing of the waltz, she will shrewdly request for two videos of Hooplakidz, featuring Annie and her pet dog Ben and the monkey Mango.
It has become harder to make Kai stand still, pose decently with eyes open wide for the camera. I made her stand beside a pile of The Children's Hour, all 16 volumes of them, my own childhood companions. Topping them is The College Book of English Literature. All my books I can part with, even the ones I've written, but these ones are here to stay.
LO knows I have teaching duties in the lowlands which explains my leave-taking (I will still be in Baguio on certain weekends, if my sked permits). LO is half in awe when she asks, "You're a teacher, too, like Granny Su?" (Su is Suzy, my sister, who has been a preschool teacher for two decades, maybe more. I always add that LO's Tita Ida is a teacher also which explains why she's abroad.) To LO teachers are awesome beings--of course, that's the only way she perceives them, having gone through a Musikgarten course under RL Altomonte. LO is now enrolled in a Montessori nursery. With a nun in front of the class, teachers really are learned authority figures in her eyes.
Well, I have a lot of living up to expectations to be done--those of LO's and my new students'.
Goodbye, Paddington, the bear with whom I have established a relationship that needs no words. Photos by Babeth Lolarga
Showing posts with label the continuing Kai and Booboo story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the continuing Kai and Booboo story. Show all posts
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Friday, June 20, 2014
Locomotive in a bus
When I showed the LO (little one) our travel pictures from Thursday last, she asked if the series of pics of the rock shed along Palispis (formerly Marcos) Highway were of a "choo choo train."
As I look at them now, I tend to agree.
Photos by Babeth Lolarga
As I look at them now, I tend to agree.
Photos by Babeth Lolarga
Thursday, June 5, 2014
'Fleece like pilled blankets' - Igloria
Serendipity again. Poet Luisa A. Igloria's poem for today in Via Negativa is called "The Secret Lives of Clouds." It reads in full:
Linings of ice, chokers of hail.
Fleece like pilled blankets.
This is all you see, not
the camisole and sling-
back shoes, the chandelier
earrings strewn at the foot
of the unmade bed.
Earlier today, I took photos of the sky over our heads, my grandchild's and mine. She brought my attention to their shapes and also to an airplane moving, so miniscule in the distance, so far away I couldn't record its image. The sharpness of Kai's eyesight never fails to amaze me.
Photos by Babeth Lolarga
Linings of ice, chokers of hail.
Fleece like pilled blankets.
This is all you see, not
the camisole and sling-
back shoes, the chandelier
earrings strewn at the foot
of the unmade bed.
Earlier today, I took photos of the sky over our heads, my grandchild's and mine. She brought my attention to their shapes and also to an airplane moving, so miniscule in the distance, so far away I couldn't record its image. The sharpness of Kai's eyesight never fails to amaze me.
Photos by Babeth Lolarga
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Cupcake crazy
How does that song go again? "I just can't get enough, I just can't get enough!" At the prospect of a celebratory occasion, my eldest child's coming birthday, we ordered a dozen of Odette Mills' home-baked cupcakes in mint and chocolate flavor under the Cakebaby label. I am a lover of mint in whatever guise: handmade soap, chewing gum, ice cream, toothpaste. And I think my grandchild is acquiring a taste for it.
No need to ask her to smile for the camera. Having the whole box placed before her is enough cause to smile.
One for me, one for The Wee One. The cupcake is topped with slices of mint-flavored chocolate, the After Eight Mint Chocolate Thins.
She can't wait to have the "photo shoot" done so she can enjoy her second cupcake since last night. Photos by Babeth Lolarga
No need to ask her to smile for the camera. Having the whole box placed before her is enough cause to smile.
One for me, one for The Wee One. The cupcake is topped with slices of mint-flavored chocolate, the After Eight Mint Chocolate Thins.
She can't wait to have the "photo shoot" done so she can enjoy her second cupcake since last night. Photos by Babeth Lolarga
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