Kat's Blog: January 2012

Monday, January 30, 2012

Growing Old

Growing old
Updated 21:39:52 (Mla time) 2004-08-04

By Alito L. Malinao

Inquirer News Service

THE FIRST time someone called me "Manong," I panicked. It was like getting jolted by a live wire. But my world really collapsed when, while I was standing inside a commuter bus--a young lady stood up and politely offered her seat to me. "Lolo, maupo, ho, kayo," she said.

That was about 15 years ago, when I was still in my early 40s. Like being struck with a thunderbolt, I could not believe, much less accept, the reality that I was growing old and nearing the twilight zone. It seemed like it was only yesterday when I was full of zest. When you are young, you don't actually walk--you swagger. You seem to be always in a hurry.

While covering the diplomatic beat and eventually working in the desk, everything seemed to be on the fast lane. So much to do in so little time. Events must be covered, stories must be written, rewritten and copyread; deadlines must be met.

It was a dizzying world. After an exhaustive day at the desk, you need to unwind, to replenish the zapped energy, and you drink. In my younger days, every time I went to my favorite watering hole, I vowed to drink only six bottles. But after guzzling six bottles of the golden brew, I usually lost count or just stopped counting altogether.

At the National Press Club, it was not unusual for bar habitués like me to stay up to the wee hours of the morning, with the convenient excuse of waiting for the traffic to ease up--drinking beer or playing a game of balut or domino and doing other things afterwards. The options were infinite. It was indeed an orgiastic life.

In mid-morning the day after, you wondered how you reached home alive in your rickety 1969 Toyota. You swore that some unseen hands might have driven you home because you could not even remember boarding your car, let alone driving it home. Thinking of it now really scares me no end.

In his most memorable poem, "Youth," Samuel Ullman says, "youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind. It is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees. It is a matter of the will, a quality of imagination, a vigor of the emotions.

"You are only as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young as your self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope, as old as your despair," Ullman continues.

Encouraging words, huh? And John Keats has told us that "poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world." So, Ullman could never be but correct.

But is it state of mind when the pain in your legs, caused by gout or arthritis, would not go away? Or when you are gasping for breath during a bout with asthma, or when your left extremities refuse to obey your brain's command because the nerves have been deadened by a recent stroke?

Is it state of mind when you can feel a sudden blip in your heart probably because of wear and tear? Or having a failing vision or a fading memory?
Tempura mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis. The times are changing, and we with the times.

With apologies to Ullman, for me growing old is not a state of mind but a time of life. Better still, a time when life has fully ripened and ready to be plucked by the Giver.

Indeed, you are already growing old when you experience the following:

When driving, you allow the car that tails you to overtake and cut into your lane, yet you do not curse.

When you become more tolerant with your staff if you are the boss, and with yourself if you are not.

When, after 30 years of marriage, you suddenly realize that your wife cooks the best food in the world.

When you begin to smell the fragrance of the roses in your wife's garden.

When you want to knock off early and rise early to watch the crack of dawn and savor the last drop of sunlight, fearing that that day could be your last.
When visits to your doctor become more frequent.

When you prefer to horse around with your grandchildren instead of playing around with GROs in beer joints.

When you have your fill with one glass of red wine in the evening instead of the usual "six bottles" of beer.

When you enjoy being alone in your library, listening to the oldies of Nat King Cole, Jerry Vale, or Henry Mancini.

When your greatest dream is to make that long-delayed trip to your home village to go fishing or just to take a glimpse, perhaps for the last time, of those familiar spots in your childhood.
When you begin to discover the power of prayers and to silently commune with your God, a thing that you failed to do for many years.

If you have experienced all these, and many more, welcome to the club. Feeling old, like misery, certainly loves company.

©2004 www.inq7.net all rights reserved

Posted via email from katkimjac's posterous

Friday, January 27, 2012

TIP: Saving berries from mold

Saving berries from mold

The key to preventing moldy berries? Vinegar!

Berries, particularly super-fresh berries, are just wonderful, aren't they?

Image: Healthyfellow.com

But they're also kind of delicate. Raspberries in particular seem like they can mold before you even get them home from the market. There's nothing more tragic than paying $4 for a pint of local raspberries, only to look in the fridge the next day and find that fuzzy mold growing on their insides.

Well, with fresh berries just starting to hit farmers markets, you can tell that we Foodlush writers have berries, and how to keep them fresh, on the brain this week! First Jonna shared this excellent tip on how to salvage berries that are starting to lose their luster. Now I'm here to share a tip on how to prevent them from getting there in the first place:

Wash them with vinegar.

A friend of mine shared this tip with me a few weeks ago, and it really, really works. When you get your berries home, prepare a mixture of one part vinegar (white or apple cider probably work best) and ten parts water. Dump the berries into the mixture and swirl around. Drain, rinse if you want (though the mixture is so diluted I find you can't taste the vinegar,) and pop in the fridge.

The vinegar kills any mold spores and other bacteria that might be on the surface of the fruit, and voila! Raspberries will last a week or more, and I've had strawberries go almost two weeks without getting moldy and soft. So go forth and stock up on those pricey little gems, knowing they'll stay fresh as long as it takes you to eat them.

Posted via email from katkimjac's posterous