Apropos of Nothing

It’s prohibited but we tell ourselves and others that it’s not dangerous. We risk taking a trip in broad daylight but we must seek out the dank, dark corners in search for the best stash. I leave behind all valuables and take only cash. The money is never enough because I find myself wanting more everytime. At first, it was just 50 bucks a pop. Just for kicks, we tell ourselves. Many good trips followed and too easily the 500 bill melts in less than 20 minutes of foraging.

The shirtless man smiles his toothless grin as he recognizes our plates. He waves us to a "safe" area to park. It’s right beside the barangay patrol office — I really cannot say if that made the area safer or even more dangerous for us. Forewarned, I removed the car stereo (just the face plate) and hid it in the deep part of my bag. We walked briskly and in single file. In our earlier visits, we have made the rounds but now we know the best dealers. We did not pay attention to the heaps of cheaper merchandise along the streets but went quickly and deeply into the maze of stalls. Hurriedly, I check out the burn quality — the start, the middle and the end should go down smooth and easy. Go for gold. The blue ones will send you to a violent mood. There’s rarely any haggling — only when you wish to buy in bulk. Money and plastic bags change hands — deal is done.

There’s always guilt involved and I have made easy promises. But continued exposure leads to repeated use and resolutions do not stand a chance.

Estela once told me about a friend who furnished her 3 bedroom apartment with great finds from second-hand stores along Evangelista Street. I was looking for a bed for the guest room at that time.  That was like more than a year ago.  I have asked around where exactly Evangelista is and the nearest answer was from Barry who said that he knows Evangelista but there are only car parts shops in there. So I relented and bought a generic bed from Paco.

Well, out of the blue, last Saturday we found Evangelista Street while searching for Estela’s next crash landing area. Barry was correct — the street was mostly full of surplus car parts. But there were two streets (crossing Evangelista) that are full of thrift shops.

   It was fun going around the place and poking at all sorts of things — from old furnitures to all kinds of whimsy.  There were several carved Narra and other hardwood furnitures being refurbished right there on the street. We saw a chest of drawers with mother-of-pearl embellishments being loaded to a pick-up truck for delivery. Mismatched chairs are all around (see pic for my favorite find). There were at least two secretaires with legs made from old Singer sewing machines. The spinning wheel still intact!

  We found bauls of various sizes and shapes but none called out to me for special attention. The wood is either too thin or too heavy or the carving too fancy.

Michael noticed that a lot of the whimsy stuff are souvenir items from various parts of the world. I told him that’s why I never buy those things in the first place. They are great for visual aid when recounting your travel adventures but they soon lose their novelty.

We did not stay very long in the area because it’s too hot (12:30 noon) and we still have to check out one other room-for-rent. But definitely am going back!

Did I say already that we found all sorts of things in the shops? Here’s one I have never seen before — a mini-portalet. I could not figure out how it works so I just took a picture.

It’s been sometime since I finished a substantial fiction book. Prior to Strange and Norrell, the last book I read was Half-Blood Prince of the Harry Potter series. It’s 827 pages – on Adobe Reader for Palm OS. (A contributory factor to the early demise of my Zire’s battery.)

    Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell is a very entertaining book. I have laughed out loud at the eccentricities of Norrell and the mis-adventures of his pupil, Jonathan Strange. Most of the characters are somber and gray but they are treated with a light humorous touch which made them endearing. Example, Norrell is a boring, academic and argumentative person but the writer engages you in observing  (and rooting for) his efforts to help England (through magic, of course) in its war against Napoleon. 

There were also horrifying scenes that drove me to read beside my husband (while he was watching TV). What’s eerie about some of the magical scenes is that I have heard those stories of “enchantment” before – no, not from other English books. Those were the same scary stories from my hometown — like the story of Mrs. Strange who caught the fancy of an ominous fairy king. She was taken away to a fairyland while her physical body was replaced with a bog tree (without anybody noticing because she still looked like herself). She then dies after a few days. In my hometown, it is said that the engkanto uses the trunk of a banana tree. And then there’s the business about mirrors as gateways to other worlds. Heard that too from the old people when I was young. These are only two of several “magical” incidents that ring familiar to me.

So what’s up with these common myths? Does it mean they exist universally? And if they exist in various cultures – does that mean they are true? Or do we all – collectively – have the same rationalization for things we cannot explain? Is that possible?

Anyhow, Strange and Norrell is a very good read. I think I heard/read somewhere that they are making this book into a movie.  I think it will translate very well to a movie. Line me up at guaranteed seats, please.

Michael does not like chicken curry. He would rather open a can of sardines than dig into the dish. He says he can’t stand its taste.

Poy also cringes away from anything with curry on it. He says he does not like its smell. During college, his boarding house served curry dishes for the Muslim students. I doubt if he even had a taste of a curry dish. The smell was enough to discourage him.

I love chicken curry. Until I was exposed to other Asian cuisine, chicken curry was the only dish I knew which had curry on it. Thus, I looked at it as a unique and memorable dish. I love the yellow color too! I can’t remember any distinct smell so it must be some other kind of curry being in used in Poy’s boarding house.

Estela and Zsa also likes dishes with curry on it. I remember having cooked Pork Curry some time ago and one of them (can’t remember which one was crashing in our house that time) loved it.

So that leaves me two guys who needs some converting.

Thanks to the greatest food blog around — www.pinoycook.net, I was inspired to take a risk with my boys and prepared a winning chicken curry.  They liked it because —

   1)it’s red (the use of thai red curry lessened their negative associations to the yellow version);

   2)it’s hot (used sambal oelek), and

  3) it smelled wonderful (thanks to the lemon grass and fresh thai basil — yup, we are already harvesting from the plants we purchased the previous weekend).

Finally, I can try all the other curry dishes out there without threat of having to consume it all by myself.

We are the proud owners of three herbs — chilli pepper, Thai Basil and lemon grass (West Indian).

During the long Independence Day weekend, we made a special trip to Quezon City and visited Green Hearts herb garden. It’s amazing that given the small space of the garden, they have an amazing number and variety of herbs available.   Do you know that there are at least 30 kinds of chili peppers? Check out their list of herbs at http://web.tri-isys.com/greenhearts/index.htm.

The attendant promised that if I just make sure to 1) place the plant where it can get enough sun and 2) water it often to keep the soil moist, then the plant will not die on me. Being the least in the green thumb department, I was still skeptical but considering the price is less that fifty bucks a pot, I was confident enough to give it a try. So, now, all three of us — Michael, Poy and I — take turns checking on the plant. This is not such a great task considering that the plants are just outside our door.

This morning, I woke up to the news from Poy that our one-week old chilli peppers have borne fruit. Knowing the guy, I did not even raise an eyebrow.  I also refused to check out the miraculous plant despite Poy’s persistent claim of a chant that supposedly make plants grow faster. Finally, on my way to work this morning, I took a peek and true enough, there is one ripe pepper dangling from one of the leaves. I bet my last peso though that the pepper came from a pack in our ref.

If these plants survive the attentions and pranks, I will go back and buy another herb or two. It’s exciting to see things growing.

Only after 2 years of use, my Zire 72 gave up on me.  The battery won’t charge and I am lucky to get in for 10 seconds before it automatically turns off. I tried to live with it for a couple of weeks by plotting out the least number of stylus taps needed to get an info – even before turning on the Zire. My speed reading skills and attempts at photographic memory were pathetic – and only made me sadder at the loss of my Zire.

I even brought along the charger with me when I went to the salon (usual time for extensive Zire use) but I was too embarrassed to ask the spa attendant for the nearest socket. I did not want to look stupid working on my supposedly wireless gadget with my charger trailing behind me. Mostly, I did not feel safe holding on to a gadget that is plugged on the same outlet with my foot spa machine. It was a long salon visit.

I have already contacted Palm technical support and they are only too happy to inform me that they can immediately replace the unit with a refurbished one or have the unit shipped to Singapore for a battery change.  All these support are at a cost, which I am not yet ready to invest in.  I was counting on my Zire to assist me in another year or two before I would seriously consider replacing it. (Maybe, my dear Zire got wind of my furtive google search for the newest Life Drive? But I was just checking it out! I do not even have money to buy it! Oh Zire, you are my one and only!)

The cheery Technical Support guy did not mean to be accusing (but I was defensive, anyway) when I asked him how come the battery zonked out too soon. He said in positively patronizing tone that it really depends on how extensively it is used. Extensive? Extensive? Of course, I use my Zire extensively.  I would not buy a gadget and not use it!

  I’ve always had problems with gadgetry batteries. For a couple of weeks, my mobile phone had trouble retaining power. (This caused my usually cool husband to get upset with me on some instances.)  The company’s laptop is currently hoisted on top of my old (it’s at least 10 yrs old) organizer. This is supposedly to help diffuse the heat coming out of its batteries and toasting my left palm. I have already transferred my wedding band to my right hand because the heat is really bothersome. We have a second-hand digicam (at least 5 yrs old) that still runs on four AA batteries. I have recently disposed several rechargeable batteries because they are no longer ‘recharging’. Considering that a newly charged battery will allow around 35 shots only (with minimal use of the LCD screen at that), we have accumulated several dead batteries around the house.

Is it just me or digital gadgets really suck in battery life? Why is access to reliable battery a function of price? Shouldn’t technology ensure sufficient power? Or is it because power by itself IS technology and is thus a commodity? But why create a technology that is at a mercy of a fickle power source? And why the heck do I miss my Zire so much? Has my life too become subject to battery fluctuation?

I am still waiting to outgrow my crush on this guy.