He'll Melt Your Heart

Among the countless talents at which Mateo excels, melting unsuspecting hearts is one of them. Case in point: Five-Star Scotty. Five-Star has an obsession of avoiding cold/flu like it were the plague, no pun intended. He washes his hands after meet-and-greets, before meals, keeps an arm's length from sniffling toddlers, and never, NEVER shares his food with the same utensils. He met his nemesis with Mateo.

 

So much for keeping an arm's length distance...

 Note: one fork for the both of them.

"Man talk is no place for children," Five-Star has been known to say. 

*Mateo is the exception.*

In fact, Five-Star had his own man-to-man with the little squirt.

Five-Star is also a firm believer that a little rain ain't gonna hurt. But as soon as Mateo objects to the light drizzle, Five-Star gives in.

*There, there...  is it better out of the rain?*

Mateo: *boy, I really have Uncle Five-Star wrapped around my finger!*

One thing Five-Star can't get Mateo to do is to wear the purple W.

Much to Mateo's Mom's relief. She's a Duck. For those of you who aren't familiar with the rivalry, the University of Washington Huskies and the University of Oregon Ducks are bitter enemies, especially in football.

Five-Star Scotty: That's all right Mateo; if I can't get you to wear purple and gold, I'll persuade you to play football instead of soccer. (Much to Mateo's dad's consternation.)

Really though, it's all up to Mateo. If he wants to be a jazz musician, he'll convince Five-Star to drop football and anything purple for an evening at Jazz Alley. Well, maybe Five-Star won't drop the purple; but for Mateo's first trumpet recital, he'll Tevo a bowl game if it's on at the same time.

That's how good Mateo is at melting unsuspecting, manly-man hearts.

See Monkey, Do Monkey

Mateo gets a monkey for Christmas. 

Mateo likes his little monkey.

Mateo shares his little monkey.

Mateo is a little monkey.

Mateo, see monkey. Do monkey.

I Confess: I'm Homesick

The moon has been my obsession these last few days. Maybe because try as I might, I haven't been able to take a good photo of her. Or perhaps because it reminds me of my childhood, growing up on Truk island, telling tütünap (storytelling) in the light of the moon during power outages. With the coming of the holidays I miss my family on my little island.

James Bond.
Frank Sinatra.
Grease.
Breakfast at Tiffany's. 
Max Surban.
Mother Goose.
E.T.

They all have The Moon in common.

I watched them on VHS, and listened to them on cassette tape, on constant loop because they were all we had to watch and hear day in and day out. There was no cable back in those days. Only the moon to keep us entertained on breezy balmy nights.

 

Moonraker. Fly Me to the Moon. Blue Moon. Moon River. Bulan. Hey diddle diddle.

Phone home.

In celebration of New Year, the Trukese beat cans accompanied by chanting dialects and quirks distinct to a particular island.

Lukuno kütüpüng!
Romolum tranana!
Oneop ochoch kon!
Kütü tipanmwiil!
Satawan pwaki-pwaki!
Uman chüri maram! There is a folklore from the island of Uman, where a man poked a stick at the moon. Well, he TRIED to poke the moon- it's reflection, anyway, in the water.

The moon has made me sick for home.

 Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon;
The dog had a laugh to see such a sport,
The fork ran away with the spoon. 



 

I Confess: Yours Truly Turns Party Girl

There's bound to be something exciting in the works when there's a 

bunch of handsome men wearing cowboy hats at 

[click] Slim's Last Chance.

They're not wearing cowboy hats, but they're rearing to go.

Palomino is excited for sure.

Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, here is The Rachel Mae Band.

The Boxster on bass.

He knows the perfect spot to hang out.

The Rachel Mae Band wraps up their opening set.

They opened for Rosie Flores, all the way here from Austin, TX.

 

 

The Boxster and Rosie.

No, that is not an eye patch. It's not a poker chip either.

It was a ticket to inebriation. Moderate inebriation.

Yours Truly doesn't need liquid courage when she has these.

These boots were made for dancin',

That's just what they'll do,

One of these days these boots are gonna 

dance all over you!

Yours Truly turns Party Girl.

Love,

Netty

Click HERE to see the rest of the pictures.

Mateo

This is Mateo. He is Alfonsina's nephew.

I can see Alfonsina in this little boy.

 

He's already climbing mountains at the tender age of one and a half.

 He's not afraid to go down fast.

He sees adventure in every obstacle.

I see her in him because Mateo is her brother's child after all.
 

I Confess: Itching For a Prize

I confess that in all of my thirty-seven (thirty-eight in less days) years of breathing, I have won a free prize only twice. By "free prize" I mean a reward that did not require working or paying for it. The first was a Malibu Barbie doll from a scratch off ticket in a box of Kellog's Sugar Corn Pops (it's now called Corn Pops, that's how long ago it was) cereal. There is a folklore that says if your palms itch money is coming your way. That day I itched my palms until they were raw, then begged my pa to buy a box of Sugar Corn Pops even though there was still half a box left at home. I was convinced of the truth of that folklore when my prize was revealed beneath the foil coating on the ticket. One month later, my Malibu Barbie came in the mail, wearing a teal bathing suit.

The second prize was from a pull tab ticket at an indoor amusement park. I spent Thanksgiving with my freshman (college) roommate and her family. Her aunt took us out on the town, and bought us each $2.00 worth of pull-tabs. We couldn't play the tabs because we were under-aged. I don't remember if I itched my palms this time, but I was elated when my tab revealed a $5.00 reward. My pocket jingled all the way home.

Today Five-Star and I had a lunch date. Our server gave us this ticket with our bill:

Also today I started applying hydrocortisone for an itch that is causing my face and neck to break out in a hot, sandpapery rash. This itch has no mercy!

Finally, today still, I started taking Prednisone. NO MERCY! Yet. My neck and face are burning with an itch that just won't back off!

You think karma- or whatever it is that creates luck- could add the neck and face to that itchy folklore so that I could at least win the iPod? Please? With corticosteroids on top?

Great Apple Pie Cook Off Score Card

This is how serious the Great Apple Pie Cook Off was. 

The judges judged by fixed categories. And one of them even made notes on his/her score card. 

This was my score card, by the way.

Yours Truly.