Grandpa's Jamesie Cat

Jamesie has a new grandpa, Grandpa Ernest, and he loves him.

Because they get along like budbod and mango.

Like peanut butter and jelly.

Jamesie Cat already has Granpa Ernest wrapped around his pinky finer.

So, is he Grandpa's Jamesie Cat, or the other way around? Grandpas are heaven sent.



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Telltale Signs

I spent seventy-two days with PaB and MaK. Until last week. I went from seeing, hearing, being with them everyday, to, now, only catching telltale signs of their previous presence.

Like breakfast. MaK ate Raisin Bran every morning at home. And if you are curious, yes, I eat my cereal out of a mug.

Candy bars stuffed in the granola bar box. No, no one here was trying to kid ourselves about the difference between a 3 Musketeers and a Crunchy Granola Bar. PaB preferred the latter, and MaK the first.

Assorted muffins. They were the perfect snack to hold us over till the next meal. But I can't eat all twelve of them. Preacher and Sonya are so lucky...

Chewing gum. PaB always had a pack. Always. He left them everywhere.

Lotto tickets. Twice a week PaB played the Lotto. Once he won three dollars. But everytime he handed over his dollar for a ticket he would ask himself "How would it feel to win the jackpot?..."

"You can buy out all the yard and garage sales!" I replied. We went to garage/yard sales every single weekend.

Toothpicks everywhere!  He used to chew guava twigs when he was little because they couldn't afford toothbrush and toothpaste. For someone who consulted a dentist only once in his lifetime, and it wasn't because of a cavity or a broken tooth, PaB has immaculate teeth. I think toothpicks have a lot to do with it too.

Everyday since they went back to Truk, I wander into their bedroom where I can still smell them.

Which brings me to my dilemma: do I remove all the telltale signs that they were here, or do I keep eating bran cereal, candy bars, muffins, and pick my teeth after every snack, chew gum while I shop all the garage sales from here to Seattle, and take naps in their bed until I hit the Lotto jackpot?


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Seven and Young at Heart

Today was a special day for this Little Angel.

I've known Little Angel's mom since she was seven herself. That's her in the purple sweater, and her sisters, whom I've known since they were wee little girls.

As little as this little spunk, who is Little Angel's little sister. Have I used "little" plenty enough already?

I'll use "little" again to describe this little boy, who is Little Angel's li-, okay fine, BABY brother.

Baby Brother is a spitting image of his dad.

As I was saying... today was a special day because we were celebrating Little Angel's seventh birthday.

One thing about children's birthdays is that it brings out the child in the adult. Little Angel's aunt playing catch-the-bouncing-ball.

Bubbles. It's like popping bubble wrap. You just have to blow bubbles.

Ah, the exhilaration of flying through the air. Wee!

How can one resist the opportunity to blow a whistle?

Silly Nana, don't you know toys are for kids?

See, take the kiddy toys away, and the adults are just boring old folks who sit around talking about how oatmeal is good for the heart, and that fiber is good for the... um... soul. Yeah, the soul. It cleanses one's soul.

Cherish your single digit years Little Angel. Stay young!

Happy birthday!



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Graduation

June is a very busy month for folks with relatives in the eight or twelfth grades. It's graduation month. My nephew Mattie graduated from the eight grade this week.

The place was packed when we arrived.

I looked behind me to take in what Mattie was leaving behind. Ah, will he miss his tweenage stomping grounds?

But then I saw this. And I realized that these kids are happy to be moving on, even if they would now be the lowest class in the totem pole of high school.

Big Brother Mikey was there to cheer him on. Along with all the other big brothers and sisters who once took that same stage on their graduation day. I wondered if they were as proud of their little siblings as I was of Mattie.

Ah, the money stole. Each stole is probably worth twenty dollars. If Mattie is anything like me, he'll never disassemble that stole.

The proud mama and her boys.

The proud nana and her new hubby.

The public servant who keeps all the proud parents safe.

Amen.


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Wedding Fashion Faux Pas

Tita V's wedding date was announced only two weeks before the event. So imagine the conundrum when Tita V aslo announced that her wedding color would be gold. Gold. The closest thing to gold without it being tacky, considering such short notice, is beige or yellow. So it wasn't surprising that Cousin Ain was handing out yellow ties like they were party favors.

Looks good enough, right?

NOT! PaB is wearing a barong, a very formal attire worn to the most formal of events. God bless his heart though, PaB didn't mind that he looked like... like... like that.

As soon as the ceremony was over, he came up to me, trying to loosen the tie. "I... can't... buh-reath..." he said. So I took it off. And look how much better he looked.

FYI, he wore the jacket because it was cold.

T-shirts...

At least they were black... And extremely comfortable to dance in!

Speaking from personal experience, these shoes wouldn't have been comfortable to dance in...

Unless you were Mayet.

Now, about that mumu... It's a sun dress, meant to wear to a picnic, the beach, somewhere very casual. As such, I paid the price for wearing it. I couldn't keep a certain piece of under garment to stay put under that dress. Thank goodness for that shawl!


Heeeeey, Jamesie Cat isn't wearing a yellow tie... What's up with that?!

All colors and fashion faux pas, choking, and falling bras aside, we all had a swell time!


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Rent A Priest

I'm not kidding. The title of this post is correct. Rent. A. Priest.

The officiant at Tita V's wedding was a priest. A rented priest.

He said he IS an ordained Roman Catholic priest. And is MARRIED.

In fact, that is his lovely wife, in the the maroon suit, behind the young lady with the striped cardigan.

In his homily he spoke of his mission as a priest for rent. I paraphrase: He was indeed an ordained priest, a human priest with a human nature. He could no longer deny his human nature, thus resigned from the Catholic Priesthood, and married the woman he fell in love with. It is a God-given right to be married, and how blessed are those who can get married unprohibittedly. And so it was his honor to be the officiating priest at Tita V's and Uncle E's wedding.

Here is where Tita V found him. 

Tita V knew exactly what she wanted in her wedding: to have a fanfare Catholic wedding. And she got it!

If it's any consolation to you Bisdak Catholics who are apprehensive and doubtful [guilty here!], the priest is originally from Bohol.


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The Ring Bearer

You might have guessed by now that the link to Tita V's wedding is NOT the only entry I'm going to post about the wedding. There are more to come. But first, because they're so cute, and cuddly, and naughty, but you can't help adoring them, here is the first set of photos of the wedding entourage.

The Ring Bearer

Let me preface with Tita V's history. Tita V married her first husband (Tito P)  only three days after meeting him. It is safe to assume that it was not a shotgun wedding, or the culmination of a long time courtship. It was sudden wedding because Tito P was a merchant marine, due to leave port as fast as he arrived. His visits were fleeting at best, so they figured "why wait when we have only sparing moments with each other?" That said, and by the grace of God and true love, they tied the knot without much flare.

Tito P passed away four years ago. That makes their marriage a long thirty-four years of excitement and adventure. 

Eight months ago, via the instant speed of the Internet, Tita V met Uncle E. Their courtship was a record long seven months for Tita V. Needless to say, they both knew what they wanted: each other. And Tita V knew what she wanted: a proper wedding, with the works!

Which brings me now to this post. The Ring Bearer. It was supposed to be Jamesie Cat. But in true Jamesie Cat form, he put his foot down and simply said "No!" He refused to budge from his alcove of safety, which was his big brothers' tall and strong legs.

Who knows why he didn't want to hold the rings. He just wanted to play with his Pokemon.

Jamesie Cat pointed at the camera in my hand and said "Pikachu".

That's right, Jamesie Cat. Pikachu Pokemon.

"Nooo!"

*There he went with the "no" again!*

"Pikachu!" he said again, and pointed at my camera repeatedly. 

It took several rounds of us bantering back and forth in the same manner above until I finally understood him. He wanted me to take a picture of his toys. A PICTURE. He was actually saying "pick-chooh", not Pikachu.

 

At any rate, Jamesie Cat was not Tita V's ring bearer. Lucky for the bride, there was an understudy. Another little boy who copies everything big cousin James does. Sheazie Bear. He was happy to hold the soft little pillow with the rings. With his mommy's help, he walked down the aisle with the rest of the wedding entourage.

In the meantime...

Me: What's the matter Jamesie Cat?

Jamesie Cat: "Noooo pikachuuuuu!"

I knew better than to think he was talking about Pikachu. He didn't want me to take his picture.

By the way, someone said that it is bad luck [for the marriage] to drop the wedding rings at the wedding ceremony. My two-sense (or cents...) is that luck, or the dropping of anything for that matter, is not what makes a marriage work. Love and dedication is what makes a marriage work.

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