Manna Bakery and Cafe ~ My Quick Respite

You have no idea, but I was spun strangled in a web of self-made frenzy the past weekend. My bad!

The HUBBY came down with a bone chilling fever that whacked his aching tired body to - the - sole and plastered him poorly in bed. I was vamooshed! Why, goodness, the man rarely ever gets sick, except for the allergies which would sneeze him out every now and then. I'm used to that. He's used to that. The boys have that as well.

Ah, but, other than that, he has the fit and form and heart of an athlete, according to his doc a couple of years back during his yearly executive check- up.. He's mighty proud of this, um, - medically certified - compliment and wears it like a gold star pinned on the lapel of his right psyche.

Day 1 to day 3 was quite toxic with trips to the ER and tests and consultations and tests again ( gad!). It was surreal  for me to have this fitness buff who'd bug me day and out about my - regimen - (hah!), looking buggered down, wan and pithy pale.

"Hey, relax, even Superman gets sick, y' know", he cracked, in a bid to snuff off my funk,  as I stood looking half wit worried down on him at the emergency room bed, feeding him thin wafers of grainy "Skyflakes" biscuit.

The doc pronounced a most likely viral infection, but the danger of Dengue fever couldn't be ruled out ( omg moment!)!  Hence, the meds and daily trip back to hospital for pricks and whatnot' consultations, which vexed him somewhat on the 3rd day of this roundabout', and further to the point wherein he scathingly reviled the bloodsucking routine. 

 Five days later to last night, his platelet count rose to the required healthy level. Thank  gawd!! What a relief for frazzled me. He was able to return to the office today in more or less his usual self.

Yah, well we know something good always comes forth from unexpected gales. Sailing midway through my inner hysteria, I found myself drifted off to a quaint little true bright happiness cafe. I'd say t'was my grace and miracles angels of life taking pity on hapless me.

I entered this little piece of peace and strayed myself half in trance on a corner taking in the  luscious sight of warm brown buns, deftly coiled breads, unmistakable old-fashioned sugar butter cookies - the stuff of my youth - and wicker trays of creamy muffins dotted syrupy red or blueberry-ish blue, and some cheesy too! 

I was swept into a releasing Hallelujah moment and knew then with a ping of exaltation that everything would be OK. Why wouldn't it be, when fate had just ushered me into the sanctum of the sweet Church of Muffins!! 

I - is - sAvEd!! :D

This here's my corner

--> See my bag? Witness the moment I went snappy with my pink partner walking solemnly here and there pondering the merit between muffins. It's no joke to pick one over the other when your mind is suffering from a case of short circuit.

Ditched the idea of muffins, though my eyes were whirled glue on the possibility. Eventually, after sensing the bated breath of the server in front of me, I settled for an exotic sounding "Banhi sandwich". No clue what that was but it sure sounded kinda' hippy, and the chef lady wore a striking fancy uniform which somewhat gave an imposing whiff of credence to whatever she'd make it out to be

Oh, and it was so pretty! All carrots on top, with spikes of radish and greens and orange bits of grilled chicken, haha! It was quite a creative feast ! And yes, it tasted as refreshing and tasty as it looked. Coupled with my rose vanilla tea, it was a bit of  a vacation for my sense. I even had the indulgence to read a chapter while slowly savouring my treat. 

So things are fine and better, with the usual drafty flow of things to do; things that seem to hunt you down and snap at your heels whimpering fix me! fix me! fix me! And so I go for it, all these business that deals with life, knowing that when things get a bit spidery tangled in my thoughts, I have the good propensity of finding quirky snuggly muffin places to center and rebalance and sniff sniff sniff the cinnamon-y scents that make this soul of mine come alive. 

"My Ayala Underground Walkway Fantasy!"

Meeeee' happily posing while hubby took the pic! 

And this is my hubby's back, haha! I luv' the long stretch of the walkway! 

Eeee, yebah (!!), I finally did it, haha! Had my photo taken in the Ayala underground walkway last Sunday. Been inkling to do so like - ever since, but, *shucks*  couldn't. 

This walkway is normally crrrr-a-w-ling on weekdays - business business, y' know. Saturdays too - just people people people! Security guards won't allow photo ops no matter how quickie' (for security reasons they said). 

I was kinda' surprised when once I tried to take a pic of the tunnel and was politely stopped. Another time, I was trying to take a ( really quick- won't bother anyone) snap of one of the cool ads framed on the side, and was once again, advised - not to. I dunno' what's with that, but I was in no' obscene mood to articulate my bafflement while being a dent on the flow of  serious folks walking zippy to where they need to be. Hah, o' but --> NOW, I have my much desired pic, hehehe!

Dunno' why I have a thing for this stretch, like walking old university walls where you feel the soul of you is part of the structure. Maybe, because I've walked this tunnel a zillion times for years and years and years and saw it actually constructed to be - from mud to hollow, to bricks and poles and humongous mixers and all insanity. I remember how inconvenient those days were when the diggings for the projects just started. I remember the warnings, the workers, the sludge sounds and traffic, and the trying to imagine how it's going to look when it finally unveils.  The thought of walking underground was quite a curious novelty way back. 

3 things I luv'' most about this are:
1. The fact that I've often exited on the wrong side of where I need to be.
2. You never know who you'll bump into.
3. Ascending on the "Triangle" side you're received by the street with the sight above - a stretch of green ascending that turns right to a decently expansive park made intriguing by its (airport) history and artfully hailed ancient trees - a bit of an oasis there. I think of it as swimming up from a dusky deep, resurfacing to freshness and light. In a harsh city, this is positive catharsis.

MY fantasy: :D

Think of the whole walk draped in the middle by the swooping drama of long red rolling carpet - end-to-end! In a corner a string quartet playing Vivaldi, or some lilting in the mood melody!

Think cocktail tables - thin round velvet covered stands where folks and friends dressed hippy' nice can settle drinks and chill, talk, laugh. Think little pretty fingerling food!! 

AND -->  but yes, of course, the highlight of it all are my photographs ( and some splotches of my inordinate spurts of art) my very very OWN, (haha!) hanging on the walls serving as deep, riveting conversation pop ups that propel lookers to pontificate on the soulful and political, hahaha!  

Ya, that would be cool! :D 

Snapping out now, hehe! Meanwhile, life calls me to zoom in on what needs to be fixed and done, hurried and musts, right now. so I beg leave of this little space and transport my physical me to my living. I had fun capturing these moments.  It'll be great going back here in this blog of mine, years from now and see the changes of th future compared to what's framed of today. . 

MY GOLD GREEN MORNING

This was a day I woke in the morning and everything was all o' right with the world! We have those days don't we? Like a precious gift of a jeweled day tucked inside a small velvet box meant for one desired with the deepest truest love, a day as such it was. My heart was pumping bright sparks of positivity and my eyes could see no ill save all the beauty -

so I put on my running shoes and had a quick rounda'bout run and stopped here and there to snap here and there hoping - wishing to capture all the fresh green haze caught in my eye, for it was a delight to be in the company of  the spirit of the trees both grand and enchanting bonsai. 

╭•⊰✿¸.•*ღ "I am a mortal enemy to anything but a cheerful countenance and a merry heart, which, Solomon tells us, does good like a medicine."ღ

~ Abigail Adams

How I wish to give this justice, but mere me with my pink box of a camera tried our hippest best, to no avail. I could have done better, I suppose if I had more- talent.  Neverthemind, I am held most captive anyway by the sublime peaceable energy permeating the morning - of calm and serenity and well-being. 

The earth has music for those who listen, and yes, that day I was listening all eyes and ears and pores

And felt a bit of Sylvia Plat in her intense inspired moment - “I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, "This is what it is to be happy.” 
No mountains here for me, but all these gold green pings the thought --> what makes us happy? What indeed? Isn't that the question of questions? What makes us happy? There are moments that give a sportive answer. 

The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity... and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.” ― William Blake

 

“The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quite alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As longs as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.” 

~ Anne Frank

Mother Days:Feathering The Nest

"The business of life is the acquisition of memories." 

I'm quoting Downton Abbey here. Season 4 if I'm not mistaken - where it goes on to say, "In the end that's all there is to it, afterall." 

Sobering. And to the point. And true. 

Very true.

Here ( actually, the pic up there) are my Mother's Day knick knack memories - in posted pictures: 

• a can of mixed nuts ( always crazy for mixed nuts!) 
• 2 newly bought books ( been a while - glad I found a real swell copy of Scarlett Feather. My old copy is torn bad to bits)
• girlie blue flower sneaks ( so sweet and cheap - hard to resist, haha!) 
• my forever, never to wilt flower power ( whatcanisay? I'ma' practical gal, lol!), 
• and a framed photograph of my sons at that adorable age when I was still queen mommy of the wild wide world of the wise, in their eyes! I miss those days. 

Now here's a glimpse of my flower homey - my nest,  the sacred space where all the mother feather(ing) action happens. It has a hue of its own, an obliging energy that takes the mood of the moment (always) to give off converted vibes of comfort - much like trees do' - sucking environment and processing  to exhale oxygen. 

My hearth pulses alive and encompassing in kindness. Old walls absorb our daily frantic rush, our loopy gaggling' guffaws, our ever pedantic sermons, our complications, our prayerful vocations, our whispered adorations and, yes, my feral shrieks when I kinda' go ballistic, hehe! 

As much as I mother the flesh of my own, my home mother's me. It mother's my dreams, my longings, my fears, my creativity, my plans, the dusk of my darkness, the light of my soul - it mother's it all. 

Holly and holy, feathered corners speak of sacred..of the Queen of Heaven and her perpetual help, of the Christ Prince of Peace, the Holy Family, the dedication to the Lord Father for whom dwellings tell, "As for me and my house,we shall serve the Lord," of  Buddhist blessings of  zen mindfulness, and of ancient Hestia's goddess function  for the Okios: home is temple -- the hearth house of socio religious and political stability.

There is a day for the applause of Mother's....but a day is nary enough to capsule the entire cost and profit of a woman's life baptized in motherhood. There is mutiny of emotions, volumes of recollection, the complicated merger of pleasure and pain in the acquisition of memories to stamp a date dedicated to the august of parenthood. 

I remember Mother's Day gone past - when my sons were boys..the flowers and cards and kisses...scribbled notes. But even more in my heart is etched those o-r-d-i-n-a-r-y days when there was nothing to commemorate. How they'd come to me with wild flowers- an offering of their innocence...days when they'd  hand me notes - cute crooky drawings to show love for mommy...

Those..are the days I treasure most. Not a specific Mother's Day - but a string of Mother Days that braid all moments to today. 

Days of feathering the nest, they are a celebration....and each moment we parent the day, inspite of its setbacks and tantrums and misbehaving minutes is a toast to the good times....

Life is memories, a continuous feast of faithful memories if we make it so. Tis' the business of life - and that's all there is to it - in the end - afterall.  

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ The Angels of April Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ

“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched, but must be felt with the heart.” ~Helen Keller

Let me tell YOU of the sweet whisperings of April days where quiet within all of a sudden I hear the faint rush of silken angel wings fly me by, whoosh! They came and come often still and sit on my shoulders, or teeter at the edge of my mind, or sometimes stand amused jolly in my corner of colors. 

I know they are there, here - when I feel laughter coming in- when I hear the church bells chiming - when I smell flowers from nowhere- the unprovoked smile of  a random someone...the dulcet chirp of green birdie balancing on my gate. Even smack right inside this big bulk of vanilla gratitude I carry right now, oh yes, they be here, the April angels. 

They keep watch all moments to catch tears, catch fears, catch hate, catch doubt, catch loneliness and spite-ness and every other drab grub that falls off my mortal shell, shedding like dead skin cells until I am scrubbed to glowing. 

We beings earthbound barter and trade potions for the promise of pretty, youth and longevity - but angelics come to soothe soured soul's withered lines, deepened scars, and calloused hearts with a swipe from The Balm of Gilead whose restoration plummets deep into dermis abyss, and we are whole again - born to new. This is what happens. This is what's true. 

So in my good, in my bad, in my gain and in my pain, in my breath and in -within - the - pockets - of - air that cut between the gaps of my entire somatic being, they flutter - they exist - they be. 

Breathing me faith, the angels of April, resurrect me, again. And life has color.

My Many Many Joys ~ January's Lady Prism Living

I want the joy of simple colors, street organs, ribbons, flags, not a joy that takes my breath away and throws me into space alone where no one else can breathe with me, not the joy that comes from a lonely drunkenness. There are so many joys, but I have only known the ones that come like a miracle, touching everything with light.~ Anais Nin

A quaint quiet moment at home.

Keep track everyday the date emblazoned in yr morning.~ Jack Kerouac

Let me remember you sweet succulent January, not for the swipe of ordinary that wrenched my heart with earthly worry, but for the exuberance of your soft rising mornings, for the kindest' constant dew that misted our mortal mid-day livings, and for the gratifying minutes, seconds, hours tinted with laughter well to the embrace and luscious comfort of your evenings replete with walks under a suede sky speckled with brazen scattered starlights.

Grace and miracles, light and shadows, January was a gift of a month; a collection of days that unraveled in gentle supplication. Like the dream of sweet incoming mountain fog, the spirit of an obliging Janus wrapped me in anticipation, whispering, yes..yes, in your life it is possible to create magic, to manifest desires, dreams and intentions, and to live daily with a cleansed bright aura, if you so do wish. 

And these few chosen pics are but random manifestations of the fun  that presented themselves. What pleasure it gives for me to see them blogged artfully this way. My many many joys.

Live, Love & Laugh

February Musings on the Wisdom of Celebrating Felicity

Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥

Lady Wisdom has built and furnished her home;it's supported by seven hewn timbers. The banquet meal is ready to be served: lamb roasted, wine poured out,table set with silver and flowers; Having dismissed her serving maids, Lady Wisdom goes to town, stands in a prominent place and invites everyone within sound of her voice; 

"Are you confused about life, don't know what's going on? Come with me, oh come have dinner with me! I've prepared a wonderful spread--fresh baked bread, roast lamb,carefully selected wines. Leave your impoverished confusion and live! Walk up the street to a life with meaning. ~ Proverbs 9:1-6

Thanks a million dee' to chance that I read this verse early this morning after the events of having gotten' out of the wrong side of the bed and behaving like a half twit' bat  towards someone - ok - towards one of my sons who was frantically searching for a sock. But by golly' I have not been remiss in warning everyone that I am barely human before 9 am and goodness knows what groggy creature I may be at barely past 5  with nary a slug of coffee, bah!

• ♥ • All survived and it is a pleasant afternoon presently with me recalling that half a minute charged dawn mini-drama which all but placed an imperceptible dent on what is blossoming to be a pretty memory of a charming February. Much have I to recall of laughter and felicity and perhaps, yes, perhaps I could give myself a little pat on the back for somehow keeping "me" together during crookie' moments when times weren't so favorably right and I had the power within me to actually make things worse -> only I didn't, hahaha! Wee'..a bit grown wiser may I becoming? Perhaps, perhaps...

I am grateful for the inspiration of the Highest Wisdom who reigns me in and soothes my being when I whisper a prayer that twines around • ♥ • "please, I want to be strongly gentle...not riled or rattled or rock frenzied by muddled circumstances...let me be the bearer of wise silence when someone unburdens on me, patient and understanding and courageous in holding forth my two cents worth unless genuinely desired.. ♥

  And since it's February and one can be more than pardoned for being a little bit brash with bold pronouncements of "charmed living," (hehe!) it is Without Apology that I flagrantly brandish pictures of  --->
Living My Own Style of A Charmed Life!

"If you celebrate your differentness, the world will, too. It believes exactly what you tell it through the words you use to describe yourself, the actions you take to care for yourself. Tell the world you are one-of-a-kind creation who came here to experience wonder and spread joy. Expect to be accommodated." ~ Victoria Moran

Tis' with a strain of awkwardness that I try to live the above wit, for hooked maliciously on a strand of thought is a hair of guilt that I don't deserve to enjoy - anything; that every moment I cherish is selfishness on my part when there are so many I know wallowing in misfortune of some sort. It sounds mighty crazy but this truth brings out the most unsavory unladylike and quite repulsive side of my character; for instead of enjoying the moment and being grateful of life, I unconsciously reflect negativity, become gravely withdrawn and stoically project an ill perceived manner so flagrantly unbecoming. Thank goodness, that the great God in his marvelous mercy worked with time, and I daresay, through the love of my partner causing my inner person to relax and mellow and be serenely healed, if I may say so, of myself.  

Today, I fondly welcome these chains of beautiful simple abundance moments that always present themselves to me. I laugh, I love and live with a focus on the moment. And when I find myself being led to thoughts of doom, I wrestle it captive to the love of God. It's not easy. But I am not alone.

Now here's that bit of chocolate cake I had last luvy duvy' Valentine's day, hehe!  Bit of a surprise really - I wasn't expecting to go out that evening. The LOVE had a very hectic day and I preferred to celebrate a quiet evening at home. My cell rang mid- afternoon and he absolutely insisted that we go out. Wouldn't even tell me where,  so I was seamlessly thrilled by the mystery of it all, haha! Round 6 pm he picked me up and still - wouldn't divulge much info, until we reached city proper and stuck in traffic  gave the restaurant a call to make sure our table would be held  in reserve for us. Dawned on me, but of course, where else would it be most perfect to spend a lovely night but at TITANIA's Wine Cellar!  We had been there once  about a year ago for a platter of cheese and wine, and vowed we would be back for the whole deal as I was enamored with the place. What perfect timing!

How can I describe it - that night - except to say that both the place, the food and the crowd merged into a frolic of red upholstered loveliness  - quite a heady aura of "Phantom of the Operaesque" romance cloaked with a wonderfully fortunate ending. Suffice it to say, the evening qualifies as one of those memorable Valentines I would with fondness recall when I get to be all crinkly old (cute) and grey. 

Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥
Each day offers us the gift of being a special occasion if we can simply learn that as well as giving, it is blessed to receive with grace and a grateful heart. ~ Sarah Ban Breathnach