Grateful

For family and friends, near and far.

For little boys who are growing up so quickly.

For a home full of love and laughter (and tears and shouting) and hugs and kisses (and bandaids and icepacks).

For love, and life.

For a chance, with each new day, to be grateful all over again.

Today I Give Thanks

For:

• my children, who make me laugh and sigh, sing and cry, shout and scream with joy and frustration and who remind me that my capacity to love is boundless
  
• my husband, who makes me laugh at the beginning and the end of the day and is my partner as we navigate this path called life
  
• my parents, who are always there for me, even when I don't call them as often as I should
• my brother and the rest of my family, who remind me that I have roots in many countries and homes in all of them
  
• my friends, who round out my world and inspire me, whether I see them everyday or just a few times a year
• good health, mine and that of those that I love
• aikido and running and swimming and biking, because they get me out of my chair, away from my desk and keep my mind sane and my body healthy
• my job, because it continues to challenge me and bring me into contact with great people all over the world (and it helps pay the bills!)
  
• this blog, because through it, I've gotten back into writing again

For all these and more, I am truly thankful.

The Baking Season Has Begun

It's time to channel my inner Martha Stewart again. There's something about the chill in the morning air and it getting dark just past 5 pm and that lovely feeling of warmth when stepping inside the house when it's cold outside that makes me just want to fire up the oven and bake something.

On Monday, I tried to make cinnamon rolls for the first time ever. YUMMY! With the Internet at my disposal, I found a recipe that looked easy enough. D (who had Veterans' Day off) and I were as happy as clams mixing up the dough, rolling it out and punching it down. There's nothing quite like the smell of cooking or baking wafting through the house to really make it feel like a home. Aaaaaaaaaaah. The result? A big thumbs-up! I will be making these again.

For next week, I'm going to attempt my first ever pumpkin pie. I've been baking apple pies for years and I love them but I haven't quite conquered my fear/dislike of that traditional Thanksgiving dessert that M does love - the punkin pie. This is the one I'm going to make. Already, I'm hopeful because there is no clove (ick) in the recipe.

Then it will be time for Christmas cookies: peanut butter kiss cookies, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip. All the more reason to keep running.

Now I'm hungry.

Time to go raid the fridge.

Holy Week

It's just another week at work. Yet I get this niggling feeling that it shouldn't be.

When I was growing up in Manila, Holy Week was a time to its own. Nobody worked from Wednesday onwards and, if you were outside of your house, you were in a church. Not at the movies, not in a restaurant or the mall. In a country where Catholicism rules, there was nothing else to do. Even if you did decide to go to the movies, all you'd catch was "The Ten Commandments", "Quo Vadis" or some other biblical themed tale. Television? Let's see, you could choose from The Living Rosary, Jesus of Nazareth or perhaps something from Father Peyton. Do you sense a theme?

For my family, Maundy Thursday was the day for Stations of the Cross. Good Friday was for Bisita Iglesia - visiting seven churches in a row, praying seven Our Fathers, seven Hail Marys and seven Glory Bes at each one. There would also be the 'pabasa' at the house down the street, a reading of the Lord's Passion done in a sing-song droning type voice. Black Saturday? Pretty much a hang around the house day where you could read about all the people who spent the previous day flogging themselves and getting crucified. (Yes, you read right.) And Easter? Now that was a celebration! A gloriously decorated church, music to lift your soul followed by a big extended family gathering with food, food, food.

Fast forward to moving the US. No holidays during Holy Week. Good Friday is just another day. Easter? Well, that's really been taken over by the Easter Bunny and colored plastic eggs.

It's just not the same.

Lately, I've been questioning my relationship with the Church. But, you know what? Come Sunday, you'll find me and my family at Mass. It's the biggest celebration, bigger than Christmas. Just like back home, there will be joyous music, beautiful flowers, white garments and a jam-packed church. We'll be there early so that we can snag a parking spot. I'll remember my kiddie distraction kit. For all my questioning, I just can't bear to miss Easter Mass and all that it signifies. It will be just like the old days, even if it's only for one hour.