Something Old, Something New

Pebrero 18, 2008

This a long overdue tag. I was supposed to post it a long time ago. This tag’s from Rhapsody. She wants me to go over my archives and pick a few posts about:

  • Family: Definitely, it’s “Laugh at Your Heart’s Content.” The post is composed of photos mainly but I think they say a lot about how we are in the family (meaning, the whole clan). Besides, those photos are among my most treasured — happy and carefree.
  • Friends: From my Old Neighborhood. I grew up in the barrio, so the neighborhood is pretty tight. The other kids there became my first buddies before I made friends in school.
  • Myself: Me, a Love Charm?! I still think I am. 😀 Read the post and tell me if my theory is correct. 😉
  • Choice: It’s about an old hobby, a Forgotten Passion. I’m trying to find time to do it. I will. Someday. Tell me if I should. 🙂
  • Something I love: I love this poem. 😀 I hope you’ll read it and you’ll share yours!

That’s about it. I’m supposed to tag other people, but I guess most of you did this already. But if you’re reading this post and haven’t done this meme, then I’m passing it on to you. Just remember this simple rule:

Go through your archive and choose five of your favorite posts about your family, friends, yourself, something you love and lastly, your own choice.


Secret Treasures

Nobyembre 23, 2007

I have secret treasures
I keep them in a box that’s
Painted in gold and
Speckled with silver dust
And hides it under my bed.

One corner holds a tale of box-of-treasure.jpg
An enchanting child
Who’s cheeks are red as cherries
With eyes that sparkle like stars
And laughter that echoes through the air.

Engraved at the center
is fairy godmother’s heart-
Keeper of the the key to a magical past
Of monster-slaying and gallant heroes,
And chronicles of faraway lands.

I have secret treasures
I keep them in a gold and silver box
Guarded with enchantments of joy and love
It’s hidden safely under my bed
Alas! But only you, now holds the key.


Laugh at your heart’s content

Agosto 17, 2007

Laughter is one of the most natural human reactions, next to crying. I don’t think anyone can do a practiced laugh, or maybe only very few can.

The following are among my favorite personal photos. For me, they’re more beautiful to look at compared to shots where we’re smartly dressed or fully made up.

  laugh6.jpg

  laugh2.jpg   laugh4.jpg  laugh1.jpg

laugh3.jpg laugh5.jpg laugh7.jpg

Mirth is God’s medicine.  Everybody ought to bathe in it.  ~Henry Ward Beecher

Indeed, no medicine is more effective than laughter. Laugh as often and as loud as you can. Be happy! 🙂


Old Neighborhood

Hulyo 29, 2007

I like listening to Vonda Shepard’s song Neighborhood. I was playing it last night while scanning the shelves for a book to read when I spotted one of my scrapbooks, decided to get it, brought it down and sat on my bed. I started flipping through the pages. Most of the photos made me smile, not because of how funny we all looked then, but because of the memories they hold. As I flip through the pages, I was humming Vonda’s song in my mind, too:

Here’s a photo I’ve been looking for/It’s a picture of the boy next door/And I loved him more than words can say/Never knew it ’til he moved away

In my case, it’s not the boy next door (I don’t remember having a crush on one of the boys there–hahaha!) but the kids in the neighborhood–my playmates, my first buddies, my best friends and ates. It seemed so long ago already. Thinking about them now made me realize how much they had influenced my youth, the choices I made in my life as a teenager and even now as an adult. I didn’t know how important and how much they meant to me then until we started drifting apart; going away one by one. It happened unnoticed; maybe because we were all busy creating another world in school, making new sets of friends and discovering new things.

Faded pictures in my scrapbook/Just thought I’d take one more look/And recall when we were all in the neighborhood

Recalling my childhood and the neighborhood brought back a rather unique tale I have heard from one of my playmates. She was new in the neighborhood then. She just moved in with her relatives at that time. Being the oldest among us, we believed everything she said–even her out-of-this-world tales. She was queer, actually, and quite a novelty. At ten, she was short for her age and had noticeable strands of white hair. She talks very fast. One time she told us that she used to eat small pieces of rocks when she was still living with her adaptive parents (at my age then, the place she mentioned seemed so distant and I can only imagine it in my head. I discovered in high school that it was a little more than a couple of hours’ bus ride from our place). And according to her, soil tastes like chocolate! Naturally, we were all amazed at her! But thinking about it now… maybe she had gallstone problems then because I remember hearing from someone that the new girl had been sick the previous year. As a child, maybe that was her way of coping with her situation. Or that was how she understood her illness. You can’t even chew a stone, how much more swallow bits of them?

Here’s a photo of the neighborhood/Here’s the corner where we stood/Here’s a snapshot of Dad’s old car/Never got us very far

Oh, I remember my dad’s old bicycle and its usual spot against the wall outside of the house. He used to take me to school every morning in it. He had to stop using it now, though, mom wouldn’t let him anymore. He never thought of buying a car, as he didn’t see a need for it. His office was just a few minutes from home. He can even walk if he wanted to. Besides, we live in the province, owning a car is not really a necessity.

Faded pictures in my scrapbook, just thought I’d take one more look/And recall when we were all in the neighborhood/And all those friends, where did they go/I don’t know/All those friends we used to know… in the neighborhood…

I miss the old neighborhood. It had changed a lot now. And most of my playmates had moved away; some are married and have kids. I miss our senseless chatters, the robust laughter and our parents calling for us at the top of their voice when it’s almost six o’clock in the afternoon and we’re not home yet. I miss catching dragonflies and beetles in the nearby field that’s not there anymore now. I wish someday, we’ll all see each other again. Who knows, catching bugs could still be possible. 🙂