Joy of the child and of the poet

The Wee One and her Booboo by the village gate's Christmas display Photo by Kimi Fernandez

"And the true realism is that of the poets: to find out where joy resides, and give it a voice far beyond singing. For to miss the joy is to miss all." - Robert Louis Stevenson

Today's entry will be brief so I can return to merry-making, including one-on-one communicating with those I forgot in my Christmas e-list. Every time the adults bring The Wee One (Kai, formerly Butones) to a Christmas get-together, her excitement is contagious. Last night, en route to a Christmas Eve dinner, she pointed out the lights sparkling many homes and establishments along the highway and narrow roads. She gushed, "How pretty! How twinkly!"

Yes, Christmas is for children. After all it is Baby Jesus's birthday. Kai even remembered to mention that this morning. May the remaining days of 2014 continue to be merry and bright. If you must drink, do it responsibly. This is Kai's grandmother speaking.

Pause from the world's capers

Table centerpiece arranged by Baguio's Martha Stewart, Toottee Chanco Pacis Photo by Babeth Lolarga

Because of the ring-a-ling-ling in the air, I haven't had time to read the newspapers in earnest. So I'm clueless Alice in Wonderland, wondering what all the stink is about a Purisima or the Binay family. I promise to catch up on current events so I can be an informed citizen and consumer in 2015.

In the meantime, I've been calibrating my socializing by going to select Christmas parties or reunions one after the other or one event at a time so I don't weary or suffer from indigestion.

First was the "Greenhouse" Christian Fellowship's Saturday celebration of the Yule season hosted by Oscar and Toottee Pacis at their Happy Homes greenhouse. My grandchild attended without showing signs of boredom or a "May I flee?" look. She actually listened to Manong Oscar extol the life of Abram/Abraham and his compliance to God's will. She peered at the small letters of The Bible and would sometimes ask what verse we were reading ("Are you here already?" or "Where are you on this page?").

Sunday evening was dedicated to the annual book exchange and eat-drink till you're stuffed party, of the Baguio Writers Group under Jenny Cariño at the about-to-be-closed Mandarin Restaurant on the corner of Assumption and Session Roads. Depending on the members' state of inebriation, the night ends with an impromptu poetry reading.

And last night a dinner punctuated with so much reminiscing and gallons of laughter with Chit Roces Santos and doodler husband Vergel at Billy King's Le Chef at The Manor, Camp John Hay. I I couldn't resist the richness of cheesy French onion soup, juicy medium-rare steaf, lobster and creme brulee with an aperitif of strawberry juice (the berries are in season, folks).

It's beginning to look like a good Christmas and the year 2014's last days are unfolding gently and happily.

My family's Christmas mascot in the company of the Christian community in Happy Homes, including her manangs

That's only half of BWG's membership. Jenny is seated farthest to the right.

Santa Claus sees that we've been nice this year and pauses by our table for a group pic.

Vergel sketched Rolly and me as we looked or glowed last night. Doesn't the missus look like a gypsy here while the mister is a dead ringer for Jose Rizal?