if the shoe fits
I am working on my dream book "A Woman's Guide to Starting Her Own Business". So as I draw on my imagination and lessons and inspiration.. my thoughts turn to.. shoes.
Mossimo Vernice Black Patent Peep-Toe Pumps
Shoes: Target
I am working on my dream book "A Woman's Guide to Starting Her Own Business". So as I draw on my imagination and lessons and inspiration.. my thoughts turn to.. shoes.
Posted by THIS GIRL at 2:11 AM
Labels: my fashion
Around fifteen years ago, I started buying and collecting the comic books of The Family Circus. My sister Helen and I would enjoy reading them then, checking on each other if we got the joke of the cartoon drawing on each page.
Who would know that those little pocket books of sketches in black ink inside a circle will be loved by my own daughters so much that the comics would end up tattered and missing their covers? Well I think that's how we can say it's a beloved book, isn't it?
Taking a break from the series of reviews for the girls' school first quarter exams, Gela and I stretched out on her bed and read, once again, about Billy, Dolly, Jeffy and PJ. But it's clearly a girl's world. Dolly was undeniably the princess of that household.
I took the liberty of cleaning up some drawings, as I want to present them here. It's the least I could do for witty, fascinating, innocent friends of old.
One of the pleasures of staying at home is that you can pick a corner and stamp it with your signature. You know, taste a bit of design. My small spread may never end up in a fashion magazine's feature home for the week, but I think just to have those little intimate corners with my personal touch is engaging enough for me.
Friday morning and I needed to run to the Securities and Exchange Commission. Knowing that my nine-day old driver's license is burning an eager hole in my purse, I asked Mike if I can drive myself to the SEC office using the Sorento. He wasn't excited.
So he asked Mang Pio if he can accompany me while I drive. Mang Pio was not excited either. So Mang Pio, the family driver, will bring me there and back.
What's with the fear? I know that:
Michael is in front of the home desktop, checking out music videos over YouTube. Annika is inside the tv room, loading up on her end-of-the-school-week dose of cartoons. Angela this time is in our bedroom, pleased to be able to watch a dvd copy of "Camp Rock" in our player. And I'm on the laptop, catching up on emails and my new MP3 files.
We can redefine early Friday nights this way - where everyone faces a screen and gets busy individually while waiting for dinner to be served.
I have placed work in the back burner in order to experience and contribute to a fuller family life. So at Gela's reminder earlier today, I went to St. Mary's School to watch the children's presentation for their early celebration of Linggo ng Wika.
It was dusty and very warm in the campus covered court. But there I was, taking a seat at the foot of the stage just like the other moms who could make it to the activities of their daughters. And that was more than enough for me. I was so happy because I can finally do what I want to do for them - just like the way I imagined I should be when I decided to leave work.
The girls performed and once again I shared the pride and joy and fear my parents and aunts felt when it was me who was performing out to them years ago.
And when the show was over, it was a pleasure to shepherd the girls into the van, to tell them how good they were, and to narrate to Mike what happened.
Before going home, the four of us passed by the mall for an LCD computer monitor and a mouse. And we had some corn on the cobs - as if to formalize that trip. We munched on the corn inside the parked car and I think that was fun. Why, I even think eating inside the car is how the best family dates should go!
Therefore, so what if we now edge each other out for sound space. Mike and his Dishwalla, Nika and her Power Puff Girls, Gela and her Jonas Brothers, and I with my resurrected folder of misplaced Jason Mraz. I think each one of us deserves this alone time.
For we will see each other again for dinner, where together we shall give grace for the food we will partake. And without doubt talk about the stuff we're separately doing now.
It was queer during my first week at home. Not the Executive Director anymore, but the Mistress of the House.
With a fascination to cleaning worthy of Monica Geller and with my obsessive personality coming to center stage, I started on my first and all-inclusive home project - put everything in order.
I started with my working desk. I wanted to sort the bond papers, but i saw a stray photograph, so I searched for the photo albums. Some were in the cabinets in the kitchen, some in the cabinets in the family room. A Japanese coin rolled from one of the album boxes, so I looked for the coin albums. The last time I saw the coin albums, they were with Nika. So I rummaged among Nika's books in her bedroom cabinet.
Ugh the trail! I wanted to line up my collection of Reader's Digest, so I have to use one of the two 1970's decorative chests my mother-in-law gave to me. And since I was working on one of them, I have to check the second chest and made it my official MBA files container. Lesson notes, written analyses of cases, books, clear books.
Speaking of MBA, I needed to line up my books accordingly: business, parenting, fiction, and what-else. Below my books are my paper bags filled with envelopes. An envelope each for Nika's policy, Gela's policy, Mike's policy, my first policy, my second policy, my third policy, oh!
Below the envelopes were my black bags (collected from an assortment of congresses and conventions I attended or organized) that contain more of my folders and envelopes. And whoa, below the envelopes is dust. So I bring in my house help to give the bedroom a general cleaning and a new arrangement. See, cleaning for me means re-arrangement. Re-arrangement means I have touched everything. Or else it will not be as clean as I wanted it to be.
Moving the side tables to the foot of the bed, I saw in one of the drawers the various cables and wires and chargers for the digital camera, the video camera, the lost Nokia phone, the old Nokia phone, the new Nokia phone, and what contraption and gadget we had, we lost or still use. So I picked a basket to contain all these black spaghettis, but not before I folded them neatly and tied them up with Gela's hair rubber strings.
But the basket came from my kitchen center table which holds the canned, boxed and bottled goods. So I have to move some canned soup to go together with the canned corn kernel. The bottled oyster sauce should be with the bottled italian dressing. The box of biscuits must be by the buffet table so that it will be easily accessed by the girls. And oh inside the buffet table, the serving dishes and the pot holders are in a mess!
It has been two weeks into this cleaning job and I am not yet done. The tool box in the garage are still untouched. And I even haven't begun with the Christmas decors yet. Just where are they? The curtains and bed linens needed to be segregated. The shoes lined up. The collection of movies arranged per category. And the old collection of audio compact discs!
Just when do I stop? I don't know. Looking for my own set of tools, I found it inside the study table of Gela. So the girls were using it. Opening it I screamed like a banshee.
For inside my tool kit were old and wrinkled leaves, crumpled paper with burnt sides, brown smelly cotton and little stones and some thorns. Remnants of the game the girls had when they were agog about Spiderwick Chronicles. They must have used the kit as a container for their "finds" for their own home-made field guide.
But looking at the array, I was scared. Maybe because I think that this child's play was not in its correct place and it was unexpected. Which made me think some more: am I in my right place? Am I not a craggy seed tucked away where a hammer should be? All right, was sitting down in my comfy big chair facing the computer on my table the right place for me rather than this attempt to stay at home?
Groping into a cabinet, I found a heavy black suitcase. I opened it and I saw my Mama Precy's wedding gift to me. A collection of German-made gilded spoons, forks, coffee teaspoons, dessert forks - the complete cutlery and serving tools for a meal. Tucked away for a President's visit, we never used these. I think it's time I should.
And I should put my talents to enriching this family. I should get to know my daughters more intimately before they grow shoot right past me. I should take a career that shall give me time to complement the business of my husband. I should also have time for myself and do the things I have been planning to do - enroll in gym class, write a book, nap after lunch.
And with that, I accepted that I am right, right where I am.
And the cleaning continues..
Posted by THIS GIRL at 2:35 PM
Labels: clean-up, domesticity
Sweating, discussing, arranging and re-arranging the tripod, persistent squinting and almost like an endless clicking for shots. Oh how to capture the moon! We finally nailed one photograph that we like.
"What if one moon has come.. one moon gone by unnoticed?"
- Henry David Thoreau
Photo captured through Mike's Canon 40D