Whines of the Times : )

Back to our apartment after the big holidays in the big house.

Arriving at dawn with a box of goods- and fresh- harvest vegetables and herbs from the province, my first instinct was to clean up the fridge – and the whole pad in general. Sleepy and tired, I was also very much aware that I have a scheduled dinner that same day of my arrival- with a foreign student from the graduate school whom I help with research – I was just confused where to begin. The laundry in the hamper was a mountain. There were unwashed plates in the sink (charge it to my sister , an air force pilot, who came here first a few days ago- then left immediately for her post in Mindanao – she didn’t have time to wash). And the fridge?

The mess of what we have left pre- Christmas stared back at me, and man, the purple fridge was a horror. Having it unplugged for two weeks, we thought it was empty, (didn’t we, Victoria?). I didn’t expect that some black, hairy, tiny monsters would greet me: The big, halved onion was black, the tiny cream cheese from Starbucks bagels was black, the fresh noodle was black, the eggplant was black, soft and gross, the cream was black, and my baby- food (should I admit it here? I eat mix-with- hot water baby food for comfort) - I just threw in the trash can.

Anyway, I am quite oblivious already of the hours I spent cleaning the whole unit. Can’t imagine how I ravaged the fridge cruelly of its contents– then scrubbed it hard and clean with detergent and baking soda- still in my traveling clothes – then the cupboards, the study, the bedroom, the backdoor, and took out the garbage. Where did I get all that strength?

For now here, writing and sniffing with a little fever and aching muscles (where did I catch this nasty cold?), I look to my left at the wine bottles, witnesses of a few celebrations – from my sister’s bon voyage party to ‘peace dinners’ – still standing on the backdoor veranda. In this backdoor we do barbecues, sip coffee while watching the sunrise. Good thing the bottles are still there – exactly how we left them. Me and my sister glued them there then tied with nylon to a hook in the ceiling – lest we risk them falling at five floors down to the garage of the building owner…

I still went to dinner. And lately, I just received a message from the same student that he got a good applause for the report we worked on together. Alleluia.