I have no addiction to sweets or anything of that kind. I can't even say I am addicted to coffee considering that I like coffee every morning or whenever I eat anything sweet. But I have a deep aversion to living with people for more than 2 days. You can call it obsession, call it whatever, it is what it is.

At 21 years old I was already a control freak; I wanted so bad to live on my own so I can control my surrounding. I was then working for an oil and gas company where I was in charge of clearing  drilling supplies that arrives every week. One day I asked my bosses if I can have the wooden packing crates to build a tiny house. "Of course, why not?" They said. One even offered to buy the nails and the tin roof. After 6 months, I had my own tiny house built next to my first ancestral home. Then my job moved me to Manila with them where  I had to share a room with the other staff. There, I knew that I would not survive in that environment, so I moved to another place where I rented a room practically about the size of a 4x4 box---but I was by myself.

So now am here in Canada waiting for my grand to arrive and I live with about the whole barrio; the almost resident in-law, the ex wife who can't just drop off or pick up the kids from outside the door, and of course what else? the step kids! I don't hate kids. As long as I only have to say hi and bye to them....an hour with them would be too much. Did I tell you already why I prefer cats?  Oh, I know.

After 2 weeks here in Calgary, I can offer my comparative observation of the place and its people compared to Plano/Richardson, Texas where I live.

1. Very few luxury cars
2. If a building is more than 3 stories, it's either a hotel or a hospital.
3. Whites are equaled by Asians and Russians.
4. Everything is expensive and if you find something cheap it's probably a grocery item that's within a week of expiring.
5. Canadians are nicer and are less in a hurry. 6. Canadians are thinner than their southern neighbors called the Americans.

Would I live here? I doubt it.

At 6 years old Chat travelled from Cebu to Manila by herself. At 10 she flew to the US alone to join me. Chat did not get to be an executive assistant at 20 years old and she did not get to run companies and make 6 figure income because I "babied" her or let her do her own thing while growing up. She learned hard work by watching me and excelled in the male dominated semi-conductor industry. So NO--I don't buy your way of "oh, she's just a kid." Work does not kill you, sitting on your bum does.

I watch Chat now with a belly weight that looks like  my total weight and yet she moves around like a Mexican laborer. I am so proud of her and more so because she's one of those people I admire: One who can walk away from money in exchange for something more valuable. I've always said that she has more maternal tendencies than me. I wonder if she learned that along the way while she was raising me.

Big Island Chocolate Festival Cacao Farm Tour - Na Leo television segment

I am looking at being the only chocolate farmer in the island when I get back.

A lot of my friends asked me if I am excited to be a grand-ma. The answer is no. But I am, in the sense that Chat will now have her 'foodie partner' her own chatting/gripe session buddy and when I'm gone, her own flesh and blood to replace me.

When grandparents spend too much time with the grandkids, the kids will get confused as to what rule to follow and it hones their innate skill of manipulation like: "Grandma lets me do this" or "Dad said I can have this" kind of crap.... And I am the kind of grandma who live by this principle: I don't care what you do, as long as I'm not financing it; but if I'm paying for this boat, I sure will tell you where this boat is going. If parents wants to raise their kids on canned goods and sugar or lets them behave like trainees for the FBI's most wanted, I let them. They'd be too obese to fit my door to visit me and I'd be too old to be visiting them at the pen.

And toys? I don't believe in more than one.

I'm not Dr. Laura, so don't send me your hate mail. Ok?

From my devotional reading today which touched me . Max Lucado's book, In the Eye of the Storm.

A day is coming when everyone will hear Jesus' voice. A day is coming when all the other voices will be silenced; His voice--and His voice only will be heard.

Some will hear His voice for the very first time. It's not that He never spoke, it's just that they never listened. For these, God's voice will be the voice of a stranger. They will hear it once--and never hear it again. They will spend eternity fending off the voices they followed on earth.

But others will be called from their graves by a familiar voice. For they are sheep who know their shepherd. They are servants who opened the door when Jesus knocked.

Now the door will open again. Only this time, it won't be Jesus who walks into our house; it will be we, who walks into His.

The greatest gift we can leave our children and a peaceful assurance for us before we leave them here on earth is the knowledge that they know Jesus, not from an intellectual viewpoint but from a relational  day to day dependence on Him and living for Him. This assures us and them that in the after-life we will see each other again. No amount of gold or silver can buy that.

People laugh when I tell them that I will be growing marijuana in my farm. They think I'm joking,so they don't question my statement or maybe because they're afraid of my answer. So. Yes. I am serious---I will be growing them.

When I was growing up, our house was surrounded by it because my dad used it as a panacea to everything that ails us. Stomach ache? No problem...boil the leaves and drink the water. Mouth ulcer? Magical...just let the sap from the stem drip on the affected area and voila, that gaping hole in your mouth gone overnight. So you bet, it will be in my farm. I just wish my dad is still alive today so he can help me in my farm now, as he was truly an organic farmer to the bone. But no worries, if all else fail, there's always the internet.

Yesterday, I was watching this documentary "Cash Crop", it's about growing medicinal marijuana in California. Chat walked in and she was horrified because my 3 year old step-grand was watching it with me. I said: She's watching the cows and the dogs around the land, and the "happy" sleepy people singing. What's wrong with that? Oh well.

I am belly aching for Kalya to get here so I can see how she looks like and have a glimpse of her personality, but I am also ready to get back to my own elements under my own roof. Oh wait, I don't have my own roof anymore except in the Philippines, a country with 7107 islands....is that even during high tide? Me no know.

Yesterday I went to the farmers market here in Canada and I found this berries that I haven't seen anywhere in the US. It reminds me of the fruit that once grew abundantly around our house when I was growing up; we call it sineguelas.

This is called Kiwi berries; very soft and sweet and it came from New Zealand.

I almost ate everything before I realized I might be able to save the seeds and plant them in my farm. I'm not sure if they will germinate but worth the try.

Ok am here in Canada waiting for Kalya.  The wait is tiresome but exhilarating at the same time. Chat said I could start a vegetable and flower garden, yeah?----but where? You can't tell where the backyard ends and the lake begins. Well, beyond that skeleton of an apple tree is the lake.

 

  Well, since I can't do anything outside because of the snow and I can't drive because I don't know where to go, I might as well practice babysitting Kalya's 3 year old sister. I told her she will do what I tell her to do; not the other way around. I have to lay the ground rules right off because her favorite word is "no." When I told her she's the model and will do what the photographer tells her to do, the immediate answer was: "No, I the princess not model".