Virginia M Macasaet

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SELF-TAUGHT PAINTER - LIFE BLOGGER - KITCHEN GURU - AVID KNITTER - CRAFT BEER & COFFEE LOVER Solo Exhibitions: 1998 – Virginia’s World – Color in Life 1998 – Blessed Beings in Virginia’s World 2010 – Wind, Water, and the Blue Moon in Virginia’s World 2012 – Lost in Kyoto in Virginia’s World  

Holidays are Happy

I was at the supermarket this morning and heard Christmas carols playing.

I am reminded that the “ber” months have set in and the holiday vibe has arrived.

Our culture celebrates Christmas quite early.


We begin in September and the celebrations runs through year end.

Halloween gets in the way but only for a day.

All Saints Day lasts no more than two or three days.


Thanksgiving is celebrated only among few families.

The rest probably don’t know what Thanksgiving is all about.

It’s Christmas that’s big thus, requires early preparation.


Christmas lights are put up everywhere and carols begin playing on the radio.

Its time to order a fresh tree if you prefer the real smell of pine.

Otherwise, the malls will have abundant plastic trees in all sizes.


Holidays are supposed to be happy days.

Everyone suddenly gets busy, although I am not sure why.

Maybe it’s the hype or maybe it’s the long lists that get stressful.


I no longer have a long list.  I believe in “less is more.”

With a handful of friends there is no need for me to get busy.

Another list for the staff and the handymen but the count is minimal as well.


I plan on getting a new tree this year but first I need to make room.

A tree can take up a lot of space and if I had it my way, I’d opt out putting up one.

But I don’t like to seem like a scrooge, my daughters love to tease me.


Hopefully I’ll find a nice miniature tree to suffice.

I’m looking forward to the holidays to cap my 50th year.

Happy is relative to the individual but I am happy.


I have been good to myself this year.

Hearing Christmas carols this morning was a good reminder.

The holidays indeed are here and there are lots to be grateful for.


Dad is holding up and staying strong.

It’s good to have him around.

It will be a good Christmas for all.


Recent Comments
Stephen Evans
We bought a miniature (fake) tree for my mother. She liked the lights I thought, and had no idea what the day was, so we left it u... Read More
Saturday, 06 September 2014 05:07
Rosy Cole
I share your lovely sentiment, Rina, and Steve's. An Anglican Canon I once knew insisted on keeping a lit tree by his telephone in... Read More
Saturday, 06 September 2014 11:37
Virginia M Macasaet
Thanks for your warm comments Stephen and Rosy. August!!! Come to think of it, christmas is such a wonderful time of the year, i... Read More
Saturday, 06 September 2014 11:47
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Taking Stock of my Writing

I had the urge to look back.

I pulled out my files and started counting.

I began writing in 2007.


When I met Red Room in 2010 I had written 341 blogs.

Writing for Red Room alone, I posted an additional 512 blogs.

That’s a lot of writing!


To date, I have written 859 blogs not counting this one.

I actually printed out every piece, numbered them and filed them by year.

What I journey I have been through!


I recall now my urge to write started when mom had a stroke in 2006.

I wrote an entry every single day of her recovery.

From that point on, a surge of emotions just kept flowing.


Through writing I grieved mom’s passing and giving up corporate life.

Through writing I was able to express my joy for knitting and painting.

Through writing I made peace with myself.


I discovered sign language and I became a life coach.

I figured out many missing pieces and links.

I eventually made peace with myself.


I’ve hit the 7-year mark and thank God it’s not an itch.

I have found calmness and a great love within.

It’s no surprise now why I love to write.


I can knit endlessly too!

I love the kitchen more alongside my daily chores.

Most of all, I love myself.


Taking stock of my writing, I recall my journey.

I wouldn’t have done things any other way.

It’s nice to be able to finally see myself clearly in the mirror.


Recent comment in this post
Rosy Cole
Congratulations! This is the whole purpose of writing in my view. You've discovered an inner content that is lost to most people i... Read More
Sunday, 31 August 2014 12:37
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1 Comment

What exactly is the Challenge?

I would rather write a check than douse myself with water.

Frankly, I don’t even know the origin of this bucket challenge.

I know now it was started as a fundraiser for ALS.


I dare ask the question. 

Are people genuinely making donations or do they just fancy a selfie on getting doused with water?


I don’t doubt the integrity of all but honestly for others I seriously question sincerity.

I can sense what’s genuine just by watching all these endless videos posted on Facebook.


I am terribly frugal and to see all that water go to waste makes me cringe.

Okay, so others recycle the water.  

So… is it still about ALS or are we talking now about water conservation smarts?


Every time I see a new challenge posted, the cause seems to vary.

I think some like to do the challenge for fun while others like to prove a point.

Whether it’s for ALS of saving water,  or bragging a selfie, at the end of the day, I feel the essence is lost.


I don’t even really understand the mechanics.

If you accept the challenge does that mean you don’t make a donation at all?

What is the point of the challenge over making a donation?


Does one choose to donate money or get doused in ice-cold water?

Or can one participate in both?

And after the selfie act of getting doused, what next?


So now I am thinking, is it more of the fun of taking a selfie while getting doused in ice-cold water?

Or is it to show off taking the challenge?

Can I show off a donation I make instead?


I honestly do not get what the hype and fuss is all about.

Maybe it’s me.  Maybe I lack a sense of humor.

Maybe if I douse myself in ice-cold water I’ll wake up and figure it all out.


Recent comment in this post
Rosy Cole
Well said, Rina. The Challenge may be a bit of fun that is expressive of deeper things. I did see an amusing and quite profound co... Read More
Wednesday, 27 August 2014 14:04
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1 Comment

Thoughts on Aging

“My mind is slipping, I can’t remember what I had for breakfast.”

At age 88, dad says his mind is slipping.


It makes me wonder….

If he hadn’t given up on reading, would it have kept his mind a little sharper?


I have no way of judging what old age can do to a mind.

When I get there, only then will I truly understand the frustrations of aging.


Will I still be able to form scrabble words when I get to old age?

My aunt at 92 plays solitaire online.


I think about my hobbies, my talents and accomplishments.

Maybe I won’t be able to paint but I can still blog for as long as I can type.


Hopefully I’ll still have a friend or two to play online scrabble with.

I could also practice sign language if my mind remembers how to sign.


I love knitting but I think at old age it might be a challenge if my joints hurt.

I could remain active in the kitchen and not give up doing the laundry. 


Dad’s generation was different.  Hopefully, I will navigate aging well.

Maybe if he picked up a hobby, sitting around wouldn’t be so boring?


Aging doesn’t have to be so difficult but who am I to judge?

Growing old is different for every individual.


I was sick and bedridden for a week and that got me thinking…

Is this how it’s going to be when I age?


I look at dad and I realize that after his dialysis and a few hours in his clinic he has nothing else to do.


He comes home and sits on his chair until its time to eat or sleep.

It’s tough when there’s nothing to do, I imagine.


But no amount of suggestions at this stage really helps.

A hobby or a pastime was never really engrained in his routine.


Much as I would like to help, I’ve run out of options too.

All this is a reminder to myself.


Never give up on learning, growing, integrating.

For as long as my hands work, I will create.


For as long as my mind ticks, I will think and write.

For as long as my entire body can handle it, I will not give up my chores.


I was told, “you never know when your last day will come.”

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