No drama, just a few intermittent rain showers, and lots of quality time with Swan. I’ll call that a win. As to what actually did take place, there was the regular Sunday Candy Walk, the Hideaway feeding, dinner for two at John’s place, and hanging out at It Doesn’t Matter with some friends I hadn’t seen for a while. I’ve got pictures to share, so let’s get to it!
The Candy Walk is getting to be pretty much the same old same old, but not in a bad way. I decided to document the route we walked along with some views I found of interest. Here’s how that came out:
Leaving home on Bryce StreetTo the end of RooseveltUp Grand CanyonAnd onto Alta VistaTaking the back path out of Alta Vista subdivisionAs far as I can tell, none of the dirt roads and paved streets in San Isidro have names. So, for purposes of this post, I’ll number them. This is NN #1 (no-name #1)NN #1 got a tad muddy in placesA stroll down NN #2And our first candy delivery at the end of the roadNN #3Then NN #4 to Marian HillsNN #5 in Marian Hills. I have no idea why that chicken was crossing the road.Still in Marian Hills on NN #6Out of Marian Hills on NN #7These are our regulars and they were standing there waiting when we arrived. I still haven’t figured out how they know we are coming. Radar love?The tree-lined NN #8Speaking of trees, I was saddened to see one of my favorites was downed in the recent storm.That’s how it looked last month. I was impressed with how it grew sideways out of the embankment, then stood up tall and proud. RIP!Despite its appearance, NN #9 is one of our busy streets for kidsWorking the rice fieldAnother muddy passageNN #10. A mama came out to say a couple of our favorites were still in church. We left their candy with her.NN #11 was also quieter than usualNN #12. An old man in obvious distress (I was shy to take his photo) asked Swan if she could help with the purchase of medicine. We gave him 500 pesos.NN #13 is by far our busiest street for satiating the sweet cravings of childrenSeveral groups like this along NN #13. They are always polite and thankful, unlike those brats we encountered on Saturday.A stroll on NN #14This guy was cutting branches. Glad he missed me!NN #15. The candy held out this week so our regulars were not disappointed.NN #16 is usually our last street of the dayHeading back to Barretto on Sawmill RoadBack to the National Highway. We caught a trike at the 7/11 on Baloy Road for the ride home.And that’s what a Candy Walk looks like
The usual afternoon at home enjoying watching the rain showers from inside the house. And my lazy boys:
Buddy boyAnd Lucky boy
The Hideaway feeding went according to plan. Still only four gals working, so fewer mouths to feed. Only one other customer during my visit. I’m not sure how they are paying the rent.
Two of the feedies. One doesn’t look all that happy.But she was full of Joy. Off to the left, you can see the brownies I baked for the occasion. With only four to be fed, I’ve just been bringing a box of Choco Pies for dessert lately.
I only spend about an hour at Hideaway once a week, and that’s more than enough for me. The music is good, so there’s that. Otherwise, the place is a bore—at least when I’m there.
With my Hideaway duty completed, I crossed the highway and headed up to John’s place. John was relaxing in his recliner on the second floor, and I asked if the open-air area upstairs was available. He called the waitress over, and she said it wasn’t set up for customers. To his credit, John told her to set it up then. Turns out I was the first person to use the third floor in six days.
An open-air venue doesn’t fare well in a typhoon, but the waitress had things back in place quick enough. Good thing, because another couple came up to dine while Swan and i were eating.I enjoyed watching the clouds dance with the mountain from my usual perch at John’s.Swan raved about how good her roast chicken salad tastedI briefly considered ordering a steak, but opted instead for the best pulled pork sandwich in town. And yes, I dumped that coleslaw on top of the pork where it belongs.
After our dinner, we walked to IDM for our nightcap. We weren’t there long before Chris and Shie made a surprise appearance. I used to see them out and about two or three times a week, but since moving to Santa Monica, they stay home most of the time. It was nice to catch up with them again.
Good times!
We stopped at Myleen’s after IDM and grabbed some pecan pie to bring home with us. A sweet ending to our Sunday, for sure!
Facebook memories provided this reminder from nine years ago of that special kind of Seoul summer:
Of course, the Philippines says: “hold my beer, I’ll show you humidity!”
Seven years ago, I was crushing on Mi Young, the only gal I met in Pyeongtaek that really tripped my triggers. Alas, the feelings weren’t mutual. Although we have maintained a friendship on Facebook.
A good-hearted woman I met in a bar. She was a trained dental hygienist, and I was happy to give her a recommendation for a job at the dental clinic on base. The year after I left, she was awarded the Camp Humphries Volunteer of the Year for her work with animal rescue.
If you enjoy watching province folk fishing, today’s YouTube video is for you. (Sorry, just didn’t see much else of interest today).
On to the humor we go:
I’m not a gynecologist, but I’ll have a lookBet you didn’t see that one coming
It’s Hash Monday, and I’m on the fence. The trail starts and ends at the end of Rizal Extension. A pain in the ass to get to, and worse, to get back from, especially after drinking. Vienna Sausage (Guenter) is the Hare, and his trails are nothing I look forward to. So, one option is just to skip the Hash today altogether. Another option is to hike the My Bitch trial, which ends at Rizal Extension, hang out at the On-Home (Tiny Cunt’s house) for a bit, skip the circle, and walk back to Barretto before it gets dark. At least it’s not raining. Yet. Check back tomorrow to see what I decide.
8 thoughts on “A Sunday funday”
Good to see you and your lady still together, John. As for me, I’m in a committed relationship with the bottle and my jerking-off hand. We’re a happy throuple.
And of course good that you are walking again without half gagging to death. I think the furthest I’ve ever trekked for booze was a 6 & 1/2 hour round trip walk. Middle of an Arizona summer so temps were 100°F+. I was living at a makeshift homeless veterans shelter in the middle of fucking nowhere. We had a guy with a snaggletooth who would normally take me on beer runs in his truck, but he’d been spending more and more time away, at his girlfriend’s house, and I was desperate. Had to lug a 30-pack of Natty Daddy, or something equally blergh, in my backpack for the walk home. It was tiring, I tell thee, and the sun beating down on me didn’t help, but I dipped into fields every now and then to crack a can open. Goes without saying by the time I made it back to camp the cans were unpleasantly warm, but they were enough to tide me over for the next day or two until beer run guy decided to pay us a visit.
Took me a long time to learn pacing, and it wasn’t just being a broke ass bum that did it. Earlier in my drinking career normie mates I’d be drinking with would chastise “Pace yourself, Thompson! You’re drinking like a negro in heat!” because every time I drank it was a race to black out and by the end of the night out I’d be snoring in the back of a taxi or behind a Target dumpster. Nowadays I’ll try to slam drinks until I’m nicely sauced and then coast on that with maintenance drinking, otherwise I just wouldn’t get shit done.
The Candy Walk is getting to be pretty much the same old same old, but not in a bad way.
But no obnoxious kids this time, yes?
Out of Marian Hills on NN #7
How do you know where these roads end and begin?
I was impressed with how it grew sideways out of the embankment, then stood up tall and proud. RIP!
This means it was geotropic, i.e., it grows against gravity (also called gravitropic). Look at trees on a mountainside, pointing straight upward despite the slope. A heliotropic plant, meanwhile, grows toward the sun (phototropic = grows toward light).
These are our regulars and they were standing there waiting when we arrived. [ … ]
The candy held out this week so our regulars were not disappointed.
A good-hearted woman I met in a bar. She was a trained dental hygienist, and I was happy to give her a recommendation for a job at the dental clinic on base. The year after I left, she was awarded the Camp Humphries Volunteer of the Year for her work with animal rescue.
I imagine there’s something that ties all of this elliptical jumble together. You recommended her for the clinic job, but did she get it? How did her life change, assuming she started working for the clinic? And she’s an animal lover? What’s that all about?
I hope the Hash was a good one, whatever you decided to do.
Re: Music Video – got to love the outfits and attitude that rockers (and wannabe) rockers used during the 70’s.
Actually, hasn’t changed too much. Look at rappers today and what they wear and act. LOL
HaHa! I remember old folks back in those rockin’ days saying shit like, “You call THAT music?” We’d just laugh at them. And now sometimes I’ll some new shit music in a bar, and I have to bite my tongue…
Kev, Our San Isidro regular kids are sweet, polite, and grateful. It’s fun to make them smile.
I judge a road to have ended when it turns at an intersection or is no longer a road. That’s the case with NN #6—it became a footpath as we exited Marian Hills. A bit further along, a new road, NN #7, began.
And now I have added a new word to my vocabulary…geotropic. Thanks!
Spot the errors? That’s easy. I needed a comma after “regulars” in the first sentence and after “week” in the second sentence. Pretty obvious. Not sure why I didn’t notice when I wrote or proofread. Just sloppiness, I suppose.
I met Mi Young working in a bar shortly after I moved to Pyeongtaek. We had a few enjoyable dates, and I was impressed with her intelligence and kind heart. She was running a dog rescue shelter, finding homes for strays. I became a sponsor for her worthy cause. When she told me she wanted to work at the dental clinic on base, I wrote a letter of recommendation. The selection official contacted me, and I assured him that Mi Young would be an asset. She got the job a few months before I retired and was doing well. The Army recognized her as the Volunteer of the Year at Camp Humphries for her dog rescue work. She’s a special woman and smart enough to know that I wasn’t the one for her. When I get my after-life do over, I’m going to try harder with her.
Thanks for the kind words, Thompson. And glad to hear you are happy in your relationship–I’ve got to hand it to you! 🙂
Where were you in Arizona? I lived in Prescott for a few years. That was a mile-high city, so it didn’t get hot like the desert does. That’s an impressive hike you describe, even without a backpack full of beer.
It sounds like you’ve mastered the art of drinking. As an expert, you should consider writing a “how-to” so the amateurs can learn to drink like the pro you are!
“You won’t find reasonable men on the tops of tall mountains.”
Hunter S. Thompson
Good morning, John
I’m glad the weather has improved.
I can’t wait to see these beautiful views.
I sent a Email to your mailbox. Please check it and thank you.
Good to see you and your lady still together, John. As for me, I’m in a committed relationship with the bottle and my jerking-off hand. We’re a happy throuple.
And of course good that you are walking again without half gagging to death. I think the furthest I’ve ever trekked for booze was a 6 & 1/2 hour round trip walk. Middle of an Arizona summer so temps were 100°F+. I was living at a makeshift homeless veterans shelter in the middle of fucking nowhere. We had a guy with a snaggletooth who would normally take me on beer runs in his truck, but he’d been spending more and more time away, at his girlfriend’s house, and I was desperate. Had to lug a 30-pack of Natty Daddy, or something equally blergh, in my backpack for the walk home. It was tiring, I tell thee, and the sun beating down on me didn’t help, but I dipped into fields every now and then to crack a can open. Goes without saying by the time I made it back to camp the cans were unpleasantly warm, but they were enough to tide me over for the next day or two until beer run guy decided to pay us a visit.
Took me a long time to learn pacing, and it wasn’t just being a broke ass bum that did it. Earlier in my drinking career normie mates I’d be drinking with would chastise “Pace yourself, Thompson! You’re drinking like a negro in heat!” because every time I drank it was a race to black out and by the end of the night out I’d be snoring in the back of a taxi or behind a Target dumpster. Nowadays I’ll try to slam drinks until I’m nicely sauced and then coast on that with maintenance drinking, otherwise I just wouldn’t get shit done.
The Candy Walk is getting to be pretty much the same old same old, but not in a bad way.
But no obnoxious kids this time, yes?
Out of Marian Hills on NN #7
How do you know where these roads end and begin?
I was impressed with how it grew sideways out of the embankment, then stood up tall and proud. RIP!
This means it was geotropic, i.e., it grows against gravity (also called gravitropic). Look at trees on a mountainside, pointing straight upward despite the slope. A heliotropic plant, meanwhile, grows toward the sun (phototropic = grows toward light).
These are our regulars and they were standing there waiting when we arrived. [ … ]
The candy held out this week so our regulars were not disappointed.
Spot the errors! (Hint.)
A good-hearted woman I met in a bar. She was a trained dental hygienist, and I was happy to give her a recommendation for a job at the dental clinic on base. The year after I left, she was awarded the Camp Humphries Volunteer of the Year for her work with animal rescue.
I imagine there’s something that ties all of this elliptical jumble together. You recommended her for the clinic job, but did she get it? How did her life change, assuming she started working for the clinic? And she’s an animal lover? What’s that all about?
I hope the Hash was a good one, whatever you decided to do.
Re: Music Video – got to love the outfits and attitude that rockers (and wannabe) rockers used during the 70’s.
Actually, hasn’t changed too much. Look at rappers today and what they wear and act. LOL
HaHa! I remember old folks back in those rockin’ days saying shit like, “You call THAT music?” We’d just laugh at them. And now sometimes I’ll some new shit music in a bar, and I have to bite my tongue…
Kev, Our San Isidro regular kids are sweet, polite, and grateful. It’s fun to make them smile.
I judge a road to have ended when it turns at an intersection or is no longer a road. That’s the case with NN #6—it became a footpath as we exited Marian Hills. A bit further along, a new road, NN #7, began.
And now I have added a new word to my vocabulary…geotropic. Thanks!
Spot the errors? That’s easy. I needed a comma after “regulars” in the first sentence and after “week” in the second sentence. Pretty obvious. Not sure why I didn’t notice when I wrote or proofread. Just sloppiness, I suppose.
I met Mi Young working in a bar shortly after I moved to Pyeongtaek. We had a few enjoyable dates, and I was impressed with her intelligence and kind heart. She was running a dog rescue shelter, finding homes for strays. I became a sponsor for her worthy cause. When she told me she wanted to work at the dental clinic on base, I wrote a letter of recommendation. The selection official contacted me, and I assured him that Mi Young would be an asset. She got the job a few months before I retired and was doing well. The Army recognized her as the Volunteer of the Year at Camp Humphries for her dog rescue work. She’s a special woman and smart enough to know that I wasn’t the one for her. When I get my after-life do over, I’m going to try harder with her.
Thanks for the kind words, Thompson. And glad to hear you are happy in your relationship–I’ve got to hand it to you! 🙂
Where were you in Arizona? I lived in Prescott for a few years. That was a mile-high city, so it didn’t get hot like the desert does. That’s an impressive hike you describe, even without a backpack full of beer.
It sounds like you’ve mastered the art of drinking. As an expert, you should consider writing a “how-to” so the amateurs can learn to drink like the pro you are!
“You won’t find reasonable men on the tops of tall mountains.”
Hunter S. Thompson
Good morning, John
I’m glad the weather has improved.
I can’t wait to see these beautiful views.
I sent a Email to your mailbox. Please check it and thank you.
See you soon, Bruce!