Saturday at Sonya's

Last Saturday my husband, our older daughter and I went on a drive through Tagaytay and on to Alfonso, Cavite to have lunch at Sonya's Garden. Although I've been there a few times before, this was my daughter's first visit there, and being the lover of flowers that she is, I expected that she would love it there.

I have always felt a sense of serenity whenever entering Sonya's Garden, a feeling that one is leaving behind -- however fleetingly -- the hustle and bustle of everyday life. It could be because of all the plants that grow in seemingly wild, but ultimately beautiful, profusion, with vividly colored flowers splashing here and there through the green foliage. It could also be due to the muted gurgles of water flowing through various fountains in the garden. Or the wooden benches in cozy little nooks among the greenery that invite curious visitors to sit and stay awhile and just savor this little moment of peace.

Part of what I found quite charming in past visits were the mismatched china -- shabby chic indeed, and one gets a feeling that there are stories behind all the things that could be seen and touched in the place. Even the chairs were not always from the same set, and it somehow made me feel that I was in somebody else's quaint home and not just a commercial establishment where everything should be spanking new and shiny and glitzy. The rustic, yet elegant charm, just gets to me.

Over the years the business has expanded, and there are now more visitors patronizing the place, so much so that the dining area has been expanded. We were seated in one of the newer wings I believe, and I noticed that our china are now all part of the same set. Somehow it's just not the same, but the place still retains its charm.

We were met at the entrance by a friendly lady who led us to the dining area, even shading us with an umbrella from the heat of the noonday sun. The first table we were given though was right in the path of some of the plant sprinklers, so we would have been showered with little droplets all throughout the meal. Refreshing though it may have been, it was not what we had in mind. We were then led to another dining area, which was actually cozier and more to our taste.

Then the fun began.

The salad greens were brought in, together with the various accompaniments: grated eggs, chopped mango, broad beans, sliced cucumber, pineapple bits, diced papaya and melon, and thinly sliced singkamas. Of course, Sonya's Secret Dressing was served on the side.

Before digging in, as I was preparing to take out the hand sanitizer, my daughter had already made the acquaintance of the flower-scented water in her finger bowl -- and boy, did she love its smell! So much so that she wanted to sprinkle it all over her face as well.

We started in on the salad, and tried to entice the little one. And after much coaxing, she finally said yes... to the eggs! Oh, and she did get some melon cubes and mango as well, but that was it. Well, we did request for a second serving of the grated eggs for her.

Then came the bread -- the hot-off-the-oven, piping-hot, fragrant wheat-with-sesame bread. With it arrived a number of delicious dips: white cheese, mushroom pate, basil pesto, anchovies, black olive tapenade, and bruschetta tomato toppings. I tried them all and I loved the mushroom pate best.

The little finicky eater though agreed to try only the white cheese. Nothing else. Well, at least there was more of the other dips for my husband and myself!

The dalandan juice was very soothing to the palate. The three of us kept on chugging this refreshing drink to help keep the heat of the noonday sun at bay.

Next was the pasta, which was served with two kinds of sauces -- the sun-dried tomato and chicken in cream. I liked them both so well, I experimented with mixing the two sauces and was very satisfied with the combination! The toppings of crispy salmon belly, mushrooms, olives, capers, and ratatouille served to complete this course. A liberal sprinkling of parmesan cheese over everything, and I was set.

So what did our little girl have for this course? Nope, no toppings for her please. Neither did she want any sauce on her pasta. She opted for her very own concoction: mash the grated egg (remember, we asked for a second serving of this?) with some parmesan cheese, add it to the pasta, and put it on the bread as a filling. Yes, she had a pasta sandwich! Kids and their tastes...

After a leisurely meal, when the little one kept on asking for the camera so she could shoot pictures to her heart's content around the dining area, we waited for dessert. First came a slice of rich chocolate cake for each of us -- not too sweet, and the serving was not too overwhelming as well. Then came the turon with bananas and jackfruit, and glazed sweet potato. Tarragon tea was served on the side. Of course, the presence of chocolate cake was much welcomed by our daughter, who kept on giving us chocolate-smeared smiles afterwards.

We decided to take a stroll around, after that filling meal. Our little girl was so happy to be walking amidst flowers and plants she kept on skipping and hopping along. Here and there were some cozy nooks and benches for resting, fountains with softly burbling water, flowers floating on bowls. It was really quite relaxing.

On our way out we then passed by the Panaderia to get some Buddha de Oro (chewy butter cookie with chocolate batter in the center and a dollop of melted chocolate on top) and kalihim (the snack bread of my childhood, that soft bread with the sweetish red filling), as well as some multi-colored pastillas and chocolate tablea.

We also decided to try some alamid coffee, which is from cofee beans partially digested by the civet cat. It is said that the digestive enzymes of the civet cat affect the coffee beans and impart the taste and aroma that makes it one of the most sought-after in the world.

Quite ironic that the pricey coffee people put in their mouths actually owe its value to coming out of a cat's hiney, huh? What does it taste like? We have yet to open the jar.

All in all, it was a Saturday the three of us fully enjoyed.

Flowers for Papa

Our little angel was not able to prepare anything for her Papa on Father's Day last Sunday, and so the next day, right after she came home from school, she went to the yard, gathered quite a handful of different flowers, put them all in an empty ice cream container, and made a colorful "flower bowl".

It definitely made Papa's day.

Bayawak Alert!

What is the English name for bayawak anyway? I always thought it was iguana, but now, thanks to Google, I found out it is actually monitor lizard.

Earlier this afternoon we had a bayawak alert -- we received a call from the security guards in our residential compound regarding a bayawak on the loose, and which they actually spotted running in our house's direction.

Of course we all had to grab the camera and come running out to goggle at the bayawak which seemed to be serenely clinging on to the woodwork under the roof eaves of our house. It was about 4 feet from tail to snout (or nose?) and had a spotted dark green-and-yellow-and-brown body.

The guards then tried to lure the creature down and attempted to catch it, but alas, it was much too agile for them. A chase then ensued, with humans trying to nab the fleeing reptile through the grass and bushes in our yard. The bayawak won hands down, to the consternation of the guards.

Bye-bye pulutan.

These I Remember...

When people ask you what your fondest memories are of your childhood, where do your thoughts automatically turn to? Is it the Christmases past when gifts galore were yours to open, or the summer vacations when you simply had nothing to do but sleep and eat and loll around, or even the comfort you felt when Mommy cooked your favorite, piping-hot bowl of arroz caldo?

As for me, these are what I remember.

• Those long, sweltering summer days, when everybody felt lethargic and so not-in-the-mood to lift a finger to even get up and get a snack. When everyone, even the insects and the lizards, seemed to go on a temporary hiatus to doze away the hot afternoon. And rest. And wake up and do nothing. To vegetate was bliss.
• When kids could still be seen on residential roads, happily and safely playing street games like piko, patintero, tumbang preso, Chinese garter, kasal-kasalan, Dr. Quack-Quack, taguan. The best times were morning, afternoon, and evening, esp. when the moon was bright and full. Power failures were also excuses to go outside and call the neighborhood friends to play -- what better way to spend the time waiting for the electricity to come back on, eh?
• Reading books for my own amusement, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I still remember trying to "ration" myself to a few chapters a day, so my stash of books could last me the whole summer! Nowadays, the experience of reading a good book seems to be overshadowed more and more by the lure of video games, the Internet, and other electronic gadgets. I still get excited by the chance of tearing open the plastic wrapping of a new book, the crisp new smell of the pages, the uncreased spine.
• Eating an ice-cold, brain-freeze-inducing glass of halu-halo is one pleasure that can be enjoyed year-round, but is mostly associated with the heat of summer. I am quite partial to a spoonful of halu-halo with crunchy pinipig, colorful kaong and nata de coco, the gritty sweetness of monggo, ripe saging na saba, and topped with a generous slice of luscious leche flan and a dollop of creamy, brightly purple ube. Yummy!
• Fruit flavored ice candy, popsicles and ice drop could be found in every street corner, just awaiting the boys and girls who would surely come running and willingly fork over their precious coins just to be able to savor the cold, refreshing goodness from these treats.
• When we were young, a family picnic at the Luneta Park was something to look forward to during the weekends. One could enjoy the welcome sunshine and soft breeze coming from nearby Manila Bay while simply running around and enjoying the day. Nowadays, one would be lucky not to encounter a smirk or be branded "jologs" at the mere mention of a visit to Luneta.
• I remember when blowing soap bubbles meant having embarked on a pseudo-scientific foray of gathering gumamela flowers and leaves, pounding them into a paste, and adding detergent to the mixture. The bubble-forming implement would then be made from a piece of wire bent to just the right shape. Nowadays, there are instant bubble-making mixes in just about every toy store -- convenient, but somehow unsatisfying.
• Knowing the phone numbers of one's friends and family members used to be a good exercise for the brain, when memorizing them was expected, and one did so, without any complaints. With the advent of mobile phones and laptops, the need for doing so has been rendered almost obsolete.
• Viewing the Christmas display of the now-closed COD Department Store in Cubao. This was a treat for the whole family, watching the mechanized Christmas figures go through their programmed motions.
• Looking back to when we were young, our Christmas presents then seem to have had a magical aura that we so joyously welcomed. With all the toys and electronic gizmos that the children of today are exposed to, I fervently hope that they not become jaded by it all, and stil be thankful for all that they receive.
• On weekends when our family did not have anything pressing to do, we would all pitch in to make some guinatan: Papa would peel the camote and the bananas, Mama would prepare the gata and slice the langka, my sister and I would form the bilo-bilo. Then we would all wait for the bordering-on-the-ceremonial cooking of this really filling snack which was satisfying whether served hot or cold. I would consider myself a happy child if I got a cold bowlful of guinatan with loads of saging na saba; hold the camote please! Indeed, there are far easier ways to get one's guinatan fix, but I doubt that the atmosphere of familial togetherness can be recreated.
• Watching cartoons then was a treat usually reserved in the afternoons or during Saturday mornings. The rest of the time we played or studied or had fun with friends or talked with our families. Nowadays, cable TV provides a virtually unlimited supply of cartoon programs, so much so that children are increasingly glued to the boob tube and not playing, really playing enough with friends.
• The art of storytelling, and of listening to the myths and legends and folk tales of Philippine culture, should never die out. Stories of tikbalang and kapre and duwende have been part of my childhood, but I have not grown up a scaredy cat because of these things. I still remember the excitement my sister and I felt when our parents would tell us these tales, particularly on rainy nights, or during evenings when the electricity failed again in the city, as it was wont to do back then.
• As much fun as listening to folk tales was hearing about our parents' and grandparents' life stories. I was such an inquisitive little girl that I would routinely ask numerous questions about how things were when they were young. I was even the one to tell my mother that I discovered that my Lolo (her father) had a second (given) name! He did not use his second name, and so was known only by his first name. What a surprise that was. I also kept on pestering them for stories on how my Lolo and Lola met, how my mother and father met, how life was like in the province when they were all younger. These bits and pieces of our ancestors' lives should not pass on unnoticed and unsaid, and it would be a crying shame if children should be so blase and uninterested that they do not ask about them anymore.
• The first rainshower in May usually signalled the end of summer. It signified the end of a carefree vacation and heralded another year of poring over books. It was not a harbinger of sadness though, as we kids knew that we could walk happily in the rain and get wet without a care in the world, knowing that there was another summer to look forward to.

The world where we grew up in slowly receding. It is being replaced by a world of gadgets and glitz, of convenience and shortcuts, technological advances and bright possibilities. However it is also, increasingly, a world of fear and suspicion, of people not knowing and not wanting to know who lives in their neighborhoods, of people not feeling free to knock on their neighbors' doors to borrow a bag of sugar, a ladle, or a book.

Yes, the world today has all the modern conveniences: mobile phones to be in touch with our friends and families while on the go, PSPs and iPods to entertain us while we're on the road or just plain bored, microwave ovens for meals in minutes, laptops to do work at home or play games with, a multitude of cable TV channels to choose from. No doubt, life has become more efficient with all the gadgets at our disposal. Information has never been easier to come by.

But don't you sometimes feel a sense of sadness, melancholy even, for the times when life was simpler and safer? I would love for my kids to experience walking around the streets without fear that bad things may happen to them. I would like them to experience jumping up and down in rain puddles and taking in the first showers of May.

I would love for them to be interested in things that are not related to cartoon characters or TV shows, and instead ask questions about life and family. I would love for them to be kids, and not just mini adults with kid-sized stuff.

I would love for the children of today to still be thankful for the simpler pleasures in life. I would like them to feel the peace and joy in simply sitting down -- without any electronic distractions whatsoever -- and just... be.

The Spoiled Commuter is Back

The spoiled commuter is back!

• The spoiled commuter can hop off a jeepney, cross the street while texting, with eyes glued to the cellphone in hand, with nary a care in the world. It is the obligation of other vehicle drivers to avoid the commuter.
• Filipino commuters should not be given the burden of climbing the steep stairs of pedestrian overpasses just for the sole purpose of crossing to the other side of the road! It's so easy to dodge traffic anyway, so why bother? The closest distance between two points is a straight line after all!
• No trashcan in the vehicle? The commuter will not be bothered to hold on to such undignified a thing as trash. Solution: throw the bothersome thing outside the window, let it fly, be it a cigarette butt, a half-eaten corn-on-the-cob, plastic cups, candy wrappers, even styrofoam containers! It's the jeepney/bus/taxi/tricycle driver's fault anyway for not providing a receptacle for rubbish.
• Pining for a smoke? The Filipino commuter won't have any qualms about lighting up. The other passengers can cover their noses with their hands or hankies, so what's the big deal?
• It should be no issue at all if a Filipino commuter boards a jeepney with three huge boxes of goods, a TV, several bayongs of pinamalengke, and multiple grocery bags. The owners of the feet who will get squished should just try to find someplace else on which to plant their appendages. After all, everybody does it at one time or another.
• The Filipino commuters will not consider simple matters like hygiene and sensibilities when there is a need to expectorate some phlegm, or to remove the pesky bits from their noses and try to flick them away with sticky fingers, or to stick a pinky in their ears and examine their haul, or even remove whiskers and stubble with two coins as a makeshift pair of tweezers. They're not bothering anybody else, so why should everybody else be offended?

Mabuhay!

The Best Day Ever

I never cease to be surprised by how children can be so hair-pullingly demanding one minute, and so heartbreakingly easy to please the next. The tension one gets from the whines and the tears can just as easily be erased by a spontaneous hug and a kiss, by a simple sentence delivered in all innocence.

It's so easy at times to say "No" to the seemingly endless requests made by a pesky (at times) kid, esp. when made in wheedling tones. "Later" becomes another pat reply. "Stop it or else" becomes a stock answer when parents get dangerously near the boiling point.

But how often have we stopped and put ourselves in our children's shoes? Are they doing it simply to test our patience? Do we think it's a let's-see-what-will-make-Mom/Dad-blow her/his-top game for them?

Or do they simply want our presence at that moment? Not the physical presence that's made up of listening with one ear while thinking of the thousand and one other things that need to be done before the day ends. Not the one that ends with Mom giving a vague answer to a question that she did not really hear at all, nor with Dad asking for a repeat of the lengthy story that was delivered with such gusto by the sweet little kid who only wanted to share the highlights of her day.

How many times have we stopped what we were doing, knelt down to ask what the little one wanted, and gave our undivided attention -- no straying thoughts, no interruptions, no hurrying -- to whatever story, question, joke or comment she happened to want to say? If we are the typical parents wrapped up in the myriad details of surviving in this day and age, much less than what we want, I would guess.

We get too wrapped up in "important stuff" like work and study and paying the bills and cleaning the house, that we lose sight of some of our children's needs that cannot and should not be replaced by material things.

My older daughter is actually ridiculously easy to please -- a simple cargo box becomes a play castle for her, or a camping tent, and she has been known to decorate it with colors and swirls and drawings to make it her own playhouse. A ribbon from a bouquet of flowers becomes a belt for accessorizing her dress-up costumes, or a headband, a bracelet, even a tail for a kite (whether it flies at all is of secondary importance). A spot in the golf course near our house becomes her "magic meadow", and is a place full of sunshine and happiness for her.

Sure, she's happy playing with Barbie dolls and stuffed toys, puzzles and board games. She derives great satisfaction in doing her art stuff, and is very passionate about books. But they're not everything to her.

What makes her happiest is Time. Time that Mama and Papa spend with her, whether it's swimming or walking around, baking or taking photographs, watching TV or going to the mall, playing games or reading books -- it is the time spent with her that she appreciates the most.

One lethargic afternoon during summer break, when the baby had been fed and was sleeping soundly, and I was enjoying my time off from work and having some "Me-time" in the living room just drowsily reading a book, my older daughter quietly sat beside me really closely and just leaned into me.

And just like that, I felt the need to put down my book and focus on her, to make her feel loved and wanted and appreciated in that moment, without distractions, without hurrying, without reservations.

And so I got us a flannel blanket, wrapped it around us, and hugged her tight. While sitting snugly together, cocooned in our combined warmth, she then said something that made my heart break and swell at the same time.

"Mama, this is the best day ever."

Don't our children deserve more moments like these?

The Spoiled Commuter

Is there such a thing as a spoiled commuter? Yes there is, and it is the Filipino commuter.

But why, you must now be asking yourself.

Consider:

• The Filipino commuter is able to catch a ride anywhere, to any place, any time. Be it a taxi to Libis, or a shuttle to Alabang. Need a ride to SIngalong? Take a jeepney! Then there are the buses plying their routes along EDSA everyday. Tricycles and pedicabs bring commuters door to door as well, like personalized valet services.


• The Filipino commuter can stop anywhere he likes. Say "Para!" and the driver will very kindly stop for you -- right then and there! If the driver does not hear it the first time, the louder and more insistent "Para sabi e!" will surely do the trick. Never mind that the vehicle is in the middle lane of a busy thoroughfare at rush hour; like a genie in a bottle, your wish is his command. Designated stops are mere suggestions, and not musts.


• The Filipino commuter can whip out a 100- (or even 500 or 1000) peso bill early in the morning and expect the bus/jeepney/taxi/tricycle/pedicab driver to have exact change for it. What, no change?! The nerve of the driver, trying to hoodwink the commuter by saying so! Why take on passengers at all if they have no change?


• The Filipino commuter has been known to tell off drivers who are being maddeningly slow or for being frighteningly fast. Either way, the commuters have back-seat driving down to an art.


• The Filipino commuter has specific tastes in music, and will not hesitate to ask the driver to change the radio dial to a more suitable station. No complaints from the driver will be tolerated.


• The Filipino jeepney commuter will not tolerate getting wet by rain. The driver (usually umbrella-less) must alight amidst the bone-chilling downpour to roll down the trapal for his hapless riders who are all waiting for him to save their precious backs from being drenched.

The Filipino commuter abides by the motto "The customer is always right."

Mini-Imelda: A Story (Mostly) in Pictures

Once there was a little girl, who was precocious and charming, who loved all things pink and sparkly, who looked at the world through sunny-hued eyes. This little angel was the first daughter, the first grandchild, the first niece, and was hence showered with all manners of gifts: cuddly stuffed animals, books for reading and for coloring, clothes in rainbow colors, toys in all shapes and sizes.

And quite an assortment of footwear.

Most of them were not from her parents but from grandparents and relatives and friends who could not (or would not) be persuaded otherwise to stop giving the little girl any more.

Now this little girl, who was inquisitive (almost all the time) and obedient (most of the time) loved to pick and choose her footwear for the day from her ever-growing collection.

If she wanted to go outdoors, should she wear...

... her trusty pink boots that were made for walkin'? ... sneakers for traipsing on the grass?

... the "bigger girl" rubber shoes that she thinks are so cool?

... any of her other pink shoes?

... Sleeping Beauty or Crocs-type ones?

... girly sandals like the sparkly pink ones she wore for her aunt's wedding?

She even had swimming shoes for the times she could persuade her father to go for a dip:

Of course she had no choice for school but black shoes:

But for romping around in her home, she had her pick from:

... the slippers at the foot of her bed (very nicely made in Liliw),

... the Dora slippers in the study,

... other pink rubber slippers for playing with water or with soil or both...

... the yellow slippers she liked so much when she was younger.

But guess what she favored most of all.

Au naturel...

Yes. With all the footwear at her disposal, the mini-Imelda still preferred to go barefoot indoors.

Oh, the Ants Go Marching One By One...

Sweet things = ant fodder. Right?

Wrong! In our case, it is not just sweet, sticky things that attract ants. The pesky little critters also swarm on itlog na maalat (salted eggs) and instant noodle soup packs! Who would have expected that they would also have a penchant for these things? I mean, itlog na maalat? Maalat nga e, hindi matamis!

One time I brought out some butter to soften, as I needed it for baking. After 30 minutes at the countertop I checked on it, and saw, to my surprise, a number of black ants embedded in the butter, much like prehistoric insects embedded in amber -- just not as decorative! Aargh!

There does not seem to be any escape. Blasting their known hideaways with insecticide does not seem to work -- they keep on coming back with a vengeance. Maybe we should all just learn to coexist peacefully. After all, they're just trying to scrounge for food, right?

Or we could just keep on blitzing them with Baygon.

Little Pockets of Happiness

What is happiness for you? Does it give you that warm and fuzzy feeling inside? Or is it having that joie de vivre that makes you think "I feel so blessed and thankful and I can take on anything and know that everything will turn out fine!"?

It's a little bit of both for me, and these are some of the things that give me little pockets of happiness in everyday life:

• Waking up to bright yellow sunshine streaming through the curtained windows, at peace in the fact that my husband and 2 daughters are safe and sound.


• Being given a dimpled smile and silent laugh by my 2 month-old when I gaze at her in the morning. She recognizes me now! That's such a heartwarming feeling.


• My 5 year-old handing me a bunch of flowers she painstakingly chose and picked in the yard. Doesn't matter if they're calachuchi, santan, yellow bell or sampaguita -- it's how she put so much thought into selecting what she thought were the best ones, and giving them to me.


• The crisp smell and feel of a new book, esp. one that I've been waiting for months to appear on the shelves.


• A piping-hot slice of pizza, with lots of melted cheese running down the sides, and I have to catch it with my fingers or else it will drip on the plate and I have to scrape it from there. Never mind the mess, it's just so yummy to lick your fingers!


• Crisp sheets and pillowcases, fresh from the laundry and smelling cleanly of soap. Makes me want to curl up and doze off.


• The smell of wet earth, when it has rained after a long spell of hot, dry weather. Yes, yung amoy alimuom! It makes me feel as is the world is reborn, and that new things are possible once more.


• Going on a drive, with no specific destination in mind, just enjoying the sights, and finding beauty in unexpected places.


• No long queues at the grocery checkout counters. Who wouldn't be happy with this?


• Gaily wrapped presents tied with shiny ribbons. The child in me still enjoys unwrapping these gifts. Of course I now pass on the ribbons to my older daughter.


• A cold refreshing beverage on a sweltering day, one that is served in a tall glass, beaded with droplets of water.


• Watching my favorite series (House, CSI, Numbers, NCIS,Bones) in a marathon DVD-and-chips session.


• Book sales! 'Nuff said.

On Reading Jodi Picoult

With all the hype on one of Jodi Picoult's books being made into a movie, I thought it quite coincidental that this was also the first of her (many) books that I've read. The book is, of course, "My Sister's Keeper," which I first saw in a bookstore 3 years ago.

I was quite intrigued by the ethical and moral dilemmas posed by the book's premise of a girl being conceived via IVF and genetically engineered to be a match for her older sister, who had been diagnosed with leukemia. The girl, who just wants to be a "normal" kid, undergoes numerous medical procedures for her sister's sake, even donating blood and bone marrow. At 13, she is expected to donate one of her organs for her sister. She then sues for medical emancipation, or the right to decide how her own body is used. This causes an unimaginable rift within her family.

I decided to buy the book and give it a shot, even if I thought at the time that it was a tad too drama-filled for my taste.

I was hooked. True, it did have its share of poignant moments that could rival any of Pinoy TV's telenovelas. The ending was something I did not expect (there is now also a hue-and-cry about the film version's deviating from the original ending in the book -- I wonder how the movie would treat it). But it did also raise a number of difficult questions, those that would make you ask yourself if you would do the "right" thing (or whether you actually knew what "right" actually was), ones that did not have cut-and-dried answers, questions that you wish you would never have to face in your own life.

After this book I knew I would have to have her other books as well. And so the bookworm (or bibliophile?) in me scoured the bookshops for her works. All her books feature the same mix of ethical and legal issues and family drama. Heavy reading at times, but worth it in the end. I now have all of her books, except for her latest, "Handle with Care", which has yet to hit the shelves here in my part of the woods -- hopefully it makes an appearance here soon!

What can I say? I'm unabashedly a fan.

Mother's Day... in June!

It's been a month since Mother's Day. That time my 5 year-old gifted me with a card she made all by herself, with her trademark colors and drawings. She's a regular artist, my little one. And that's why she can run through a stack of paper (preferably colored, Mama!) in no time at all.

Hmm... hope that the flowers, fruits and vegetables we plant in our yard make up for the number of trees that go Ouch due to her paper arts & crafts forays!

Yesterday though, she kept mostly to herself, and she didn't want me wandering into the living room while she was "busy with something." And she had papers with her again.

Then came the kicker: "Mama, I have a surprise for you, but I won't tell you what it is since it's a surprise." Heehee.

When my husband came home early evening, they huddled and told me they had to go out and get something. Hmmm, it looked like the pieces were falling into place.

When they arrived, she handed me a Mother's Day bouquet, with a homemade ribbon attached to it!

Didn't matter that it was already June, with Father's Day just around the corner.

It still felt great to be handed this surprise.