The End of summer: a reflection, a pictorial

Posted on August 22, 2015 by Patty

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.
– Sylvia Plath

On Monday school starts. I need to catch my breath. How is it that summer is over already? After our trip to Italy in June, I was trying to find my easy pace of summer, my groove. It was not to be this year. As soon as we came home we prepared for our traditional Fourth of July visit with my cousin and her husband Tim (aka Timbuktu), which includes the Oakland A’s fireworks game, City of El Cerrito Fourth of July celebration at Cerrito Vista Park, Fourth of July feast, Alameda Flea Market, and lots of science experiments, board games, catching up, and sometimes we sneak in a hike.

Tim, Janet, and me at the Oakland A's fireworks game. Tim took pleasure in entertained us by photo-bombing the group of women in front of us.

Tim, Janet, and me at the Oakland A’s fireworks game. Tim took pleasure in entertaining us by photo-bombing the group of women in the row in front of us.

The A’s lost – again – but at least the fireworks were fun!

We all agreed that this Fourth of July's fireworks show was the best we've seen in four years.

We all agreed that this Fourth of July’s fireworks show was the best we’ve seen in our four-year tradition.

One of the things Janet and I love to do while at the El Cerrito Fourth of July festivities is to buy a necklace from our favorite Himalayan Jewelry guy. And check out other artisan goods. These earrings are by Moon and Leaf.

Enjoying a conversation with talented jewelry designer and Harding Elementary School mom Kristen Satzman of Moon & Leaf. You can see more of her work at http://kristinsatzman.com/moonandleaf/

Salmon and steak, potatoes and salad, and the fresh corn that Janet and Tim brought up from the Central Valley for our Fourth of July feast.

Up bright and early for a Girls' Day at the Alameda Flea Market - our group selfie with the San Francisco skyline in the background.

Up bright and early Sunday morning for a Girls’ Day at the Alameda Flea Market – our group selfie with the San Francisco skyline and Golden Gate Bridge in the background.

Beautiful 1920s French marcasite necklace from Gypsy Road Studio, which happens to match well with the marcasite earrings from Firenze.

In the summertime, Janet and I love looking at lawn art. For old-time San Francisco Giants fans – See the crazy crab.

I'm forgetting this Oakland artisan, but I loved the poems and adages burned into various found wood objects. One of my favorites - a poem by Pablo Neruda, one of my favorite poets, whom I studied while at Syracuse University.

I’m forgetting this Oakland artisan, but I loved the poems and adages burned into wood, stone, and other found objects. I immediately gravitated to this poem by Pablo Neruda, one of my favorite poets, whom I studied while at Syracuse University.

Then after they left – such a short visit this time around – we offered our home to a French exchange student for three weeks. All the while, I was trying to edit my manuscript, and then proof and go through the production phase of the book. The month of July, I think I averaged 3-4 hours of sleep. Wait, that’s normal. At any rate, every evening and weekend was filled with reading the manuscript over and over and over again. While trying to entertain our exchange student.

Isabella and I took our exchange student for a day-long walk along the Embarcadero. At Pier 27, we chanced upon a free concert by the San Francisco Symphony - lovely!

On a beautiful Sunday in July, Isabella and I took our exchange student for a day-long walk along the Embarcadero. At Pier 27, we chanced upon a free concert by the San Francisco Symphony – lovely!

Sunday brunch at Butterfly Restaurant at Pier 33. California-Asian fusion and a nice view of the Bay.

We rarely venture to Pier 39, but I forget how spectacular the views can be, so long as you look outward!

The end-of-our-walk view of the San Francisco piers….

And in the midst of our hosting duties, I flew out to Portland for a week for my company’s annual sales meeting in mid-July. Every time I come to Portland, I fall in love all over again. I had to edit/proof in the evenings while there, but I really enjoyed spending time with my colleagues since I only see most of them twice a year.

Downtown Portland – my view from my temporary office at my company’s headquarters.

Lunch outside at the The Portland Regency with my colleagues.

The courtyard of my boutique hotel – the Portland Harbor Hotel.

On the menu? Of course.

Our company took in a Portland Sea Dogs game at Hadlock Fields. The Sea Dawgs are the Red Sox’s AA team. They played the farm team of the Yankees. Classic.

Normally I go to baseball games to watch the game, but I had too much fun catching up with my colleagues. Here, with Eric and Cathleen. And this is after my third hot dog! Yup, I was hungry.

One street down from my hotel, I found a true gelato place – Gorgeous Gelato!

I had to go to one of my favorite shops in downtown Portland – Waterlily.

The earrings on the left are made by sisters in Thailand. I had gotten a pair by them a few years ago at Waterlily. Thanks for Fay, we walked into Edgecomb Potters on the waterfront. This collective features artisans from around the country. The earrings on the left are made from vintage watch parts. I chose this very Art Deco pair.

The earrings on the right were made by two sisters from Thailand. I had gotten a pair crafted by them a few years ago at Waterlily. Thanks to Fay, we walked into Edgecomb Potters on the waterfront. This collective features artisans from around the country. The earrings on the left are made from vintage watch parts. I chose this very Art Deco pair.

More seafood, please. On the outdoor deck on the waterfront at the Porthole Restaurant and Pub.

More seafood and fresh greens, please. On the outdoor deck on the waterfront at the Porthole Restaurant and Pub.

Dinner at the Flatbread with Jack, Fay, and Mia. One last view.

Upon my return home, it was back to editing and proofing. My publisher Eastwind Books of Berkeley and I were a week late with getting everything to the printer. You would think that a great weight would have been lifted once Harvey, my publisher, said, no more comma deletions; we are done and you can’t touch it anymore. But all that stress over typos, commas, widows and orphan lines still resided in my upper back. One morning in August, I awoke to chest pains and after talking it over with David, we decided to be safe and head to the ER. Thankfully, at 7am on a Thursday, I was the only one who walked into the ER waiting room. No risk factors. All tests came back negative. I went home in a record two hours and yes, came back with peace of mind and stern warnings from the ER doctor and my NP and physical therapist that I need more hours of sleep. Well, okay.

The day of my ER visit, the kids, on their own initiative, made dinner and a wine cake for me. In fact, Isabella made my lunches on the weekends while I was hunched over my laptop editing. Yes, I am filled with gratitude.

After the production process, however, I dove into the marketing/promotion tasks that need to be done. So I’m immersed in that right now. Press releases. Press release list upon list upon list. Creation of postcards and posters. Approval of ads. FB author page. Twitter handle (gulp). Author website. Reaching out to academics in labor, history, Asian-American disciplines with a little help from a history professor at the University of Maryland. Scheduling reading events. Networking. It’s all exhilarating, empowering, and validating! But hard to do when you have to do it all after hours.

My friend Wendy Johnson and I attended the Stand Up for Books Comedy Night, a fundraiser for my publisher’s bookstore, Eastwind Books of Berkeley (landlord raised the rent – boo-hiss) at the Oakland Asian Cultural Center. And you didn’t have to be Asian-American to appreciate the jokes, I think….

Yup, I dragged David to the Jackson Browne concert at the Greek Theatre in August. I bribed him with beer while I had wine. The last time we were at the Greek Theatre? Twenty years ago when we saw the Counting Crows with our friends John (and best man) and Tracy!

I was thrilled when Jackson Browne introduced his heartbreaking song Sky Blue & Black by saying that it was one of his favorite songs. Me too! His latest CD is very political, a call to environmentalism. The title song, Standing in the Breach, is about rebulding a school in Port-au-Prince in Haiti after their devastating earthquake. Browne was very proud to be a part of this school, which he says educates 2,500 students every year for free. Yup, respect him in bunches.

We managed to have some fun, though. But now school is staring me in the face. Time to be co-chair of the high school’s Investing in Academic Excellence. Lunafest 2015-2016 season will be commencing soon. Work will start getting busier. And my book comes out September 4th, with readings and events, and more marketing and promotions.

We are winding down with our season tickets for the very painful Oakland A’s season. A weeknight game with the Dodgers’ Kershaw on the mound versus another pitcher called up from the minors. We went with great trepidation. When our hapless bullpen blew a 1-1 tie in the top of the 8th, a common occurrence this year, we hesitated but still stayed. We were rewarded: First walk-off win, 5-4, in 10 innings. Nice way to end the summer – Country Breakfast (aka Mr. Double Play) getting a pie and Gatorade. My first win since Opening Day. I know, pathetic. Back to the right-field bleachers next year! Still love the summer classic.

But would I want it any other way? Heck no. But I will miss this summer. What a memorable time we had.

The last gasp from the garden. Is this truly the last bouquet of August, of summer?

The Seedling Scholarship: changing the world for the better

Posted on June 13, 2015 by Patty

Unless someone like you
cares a whole awful lot,
nothing is going to get better.
It’s not.
– Dr. Seuss (Theodor Seuss Geisel), from The Lorax

As an adult, I have always understood how fortunate I am with the opportunities that have been presented to me throughout my life. My father, who immigrated to the U.S. from the Philippines, came as a teenager who only knew the words “yes” and “no.” His academic education ended with the second grade because his father needed him to work in the fields. He came to America, he once told me, to “change his luck.” He began his immigrant life as a farm worker and later spent the majority of his career as a cook. While most would say he achieved a modest goal, he and my mother lived fairly comfortable lives (they were also hard-core savers). The biggest goal my father and mother had was to ensure that their three daughters went to college and had solid careers. When we three graduated from high school and then college, and for me graduate school, they were incredibly proud.

Being in the high school environment again – through Jacob, who started his freshman year at El Cerrito High School last fall – I feel the same excitement of possibilities, of the world opening up. But for many students, the prospect of going to college is either a pipe dream or a journey fraught with challenges and barriers. And one of those barriers is financial. That was the main reason I wanted to establish a needs-based scholarship for seniors. But I want it to be more than that. If our family was going to help create opportunities, then the recipient must also “pay it forward.”

Our family – David, Jacob, Isabella, and I – established The Seedling Scholarship this year to encourage young women and men to act on their compassion and become engaged citizens by making positive contributions and to be of service to their communities – whether it be local, state, national, or overseas. The scholarship recognizes and supports a graduating El Cerrito High School senior whose passion in life is to be a social change agent and whose goal is to make the world a better, more inclusive place for their fellow human beings and/or by being compassionate stewards of and advocates for our environment and the animals on our planet.

Originally, the scholarship was named The Lorax Scholarship because I came across a line from Dr. Seuss’s book and it resonated with me. This, I thought, is exactly what the scholarship is all about. We opted out of trying to secure permission and decided upon the name The Seedling Scholarship, which embodies the same ideas and the desire to nurture our communities.

I sought to create a committee of three to be my readers, so I thank Jane, Lisa, and Kimi with all my heart. I was guided by the nurturing career and guidance counselor Bobbi Griggs in the career center. We all read the 10 applications that came in, and when it came time to run the applications through my admittedly evolving rubric, we all came to the same conclusion: the experience of learning about these amazing kids, the adversities they faced, and the successes they achieved was both humbling and profound. I truly believe that when things come too easily you don’t fully appreciate what you have. When you struggle and you stay in the battle and come out on top, victory is all the sweeter. That’s what we all learned about many of the applicants. When it came time to determine a recipient, we discussed the intangibles that go beyond GPAs and well-written essays. We talked about heart and drive. We talked about what it took to get to where these students are. We discussed who could really make their dreams come true – if they were able to get financial aid.

In the end, our readers voted on choosing two recipients. And I’d like you to meet them.

Congratulating ECHS graduating senior Monet Boyd!

Monet Boyd: building a better community and empowering its members
“I have always wanted to uplift and build the people in my community, but never had the tools, network, or platform,” wrote Monet in her essay. “I want to show my people what they are capable of, so that we may grow as a collective group.” By attending Cal Poly Pomona with a dual major in urban planning and African-American Studies, Monet hopes to “promote the importance of Black business and group economics” and “educate my community about our ancestors so that we may have knowledge of ourselves.”

Monet went on to write: “I will teach young Black boys and girls their history/identity so they realize that they are capable of greatness and can change their circumstances like our ancestors have done many times before. I will teach young and old people of the struggle, the pain, the triumph, and the victories of our people so that we may love ourselves as well as one another.”

As an urban planner, Monet wrote, “I will create strategic and specific plans to renew, revitalize, and restore my community. I will make the City of Richmond a stable, eco-friendly city, as well as beautiful in all areas. The City of Richmond would reflect the hearts and the history of Richmond. These improvements will allow citizens of Richmond to understand that they deserve the best for their community; thus wanting more for themselves and others.”

In addition to excelling in academics and volunteering within her church, Monet, who will be the first in her family to attend college, works part time for the City of El Cerrito to help support her family. Among the many leadership roles she held, she was president of the Black Student Union for three years. One of her letters of recommendation cited her “resiliency, determination, and motivation…” Her AP Language and Composition teacher wrote, “Our school was recognized this year for our enormous gains in school climate over the past three years, and with all seriousness, Monet deserves significant credit in the matter for the multifaceted ways she has created community on our campus.”

I was on a business trip when the night of the Senior Awards Night, so I wasn’t there to hand the certificate to her, which truly pained me. When I saw the program, her name was under numerous awards – and for good reason. I was able to meet Monet this past week. The first thing that struck me about her was her kindness. Coupled with that was a quiet resolve. Those two traits will serve her well. In order to achieve the lofty goals she has set for herself, one has to have determination and resolve. But more importantly, one has to be passionate and compassionate. And those are the very things the Seedling Scholarship was created to reward. Congratulations, Monet!

Congratulations, ECHS graduating senior Akeilah Ward-Hale!

Akeilah Ward-Hale: turning hardships into strengths
Akeilah and her mother have faced many hardships and challenges, but despite the challenges, she wrote in her essay, “I have learned some valuable lessons that I will carry throughout my life. I have learned to never take things for granted, to appreciate every resource I am given, to try to stay positive even in the worst situations, to work hard, and to be grateful for my mother, someone who has never given up and supported me through everything.”

She continued, “Being this low at a point in my life had inspired me to want to help people that are hurt, in pain or just stressed out…Having that certain experience in my life has pushed me to do well in school and not become another statistic that doesn’t take education seriously.” Akeilah, who will be attending Cal State East Bay in the fall, wants to become a doctor so she can provide healthcare in her community of Richmond, which she points out lacks doctors and medical insurance coverage.

Akeilah’s counselor touted the way she “consistently challenged herself throughout high school by taking Honors and AP courses.” Akeilah had juggled the demanding coursework, a part-time job, tutoring in an afterschool program, and volunteering at her church. Her counselor wrote, “Never once had she indicated that they (her mother and she) were experiencing hardship nor complained about her situation. Clearly, to persist with her education despite these circumstances displays a tremendous amount of grit. Akeilah has admitted to wanting to give up on occasion throughout her high school career, but she stayed focused on her education. To say I am proud of her is an understatement. Akeilah is one of the most inspiring students I’ve worked with in my career….”

What really resonated with me was Akeilah’s statement: “The hardships you go through is just making you stronger to succeed I life.” When I met her on campus on Friday, she exuded that sense of strength through adversity and also wisdom gained from having conquered her adversities. I felt that hard-earned confidence in her presence, and I came away with the knowledge that she will succeed in her goals because she has faced many challenges in her young life and understands what it takes to come out on top. And she believes in herself, as do we. Congratulations, Akeilah!

The Seedling Scholarship is very proud to offer scholarships to these deserving two young women in its inaugural year!

Don’t let the b@st@rds get you down

Posted on January 12, 2015 by Patty

Those who don’t know how to suffer are the worst off. There are times when the only correct thing we can do is to bear out troubles until a better day.
– Deng Ming-Dao, Chinese-American author, artist, philosopher, teacher, and martial artist

My New Year's Eve outfit - faux fur jacket, vintage pin, velvet burnout trousers, and pumps.

My New Year’s Eve outfit – faux fur jacket, vintage brooch, velvet burnout trousers, and pumps.

Jacqui Naylor, San Francisco jazz-pop vocalist and songwriter, wrote a song called “Don’t let the bastard get you down,” which she released on her 2005 CD, Live East/West: Birdland/Yoshi’s. It’s a song about lovers and totally unrelated to my here and now, but when I started thinking through this particular blog topic, the catchy refrain stuck in my head.

I had a bad day at work this past Friday. It’s not really important to recap what happened. Suffice to say that an unexpected event occurred on a morning in which I was already exhausted from a chaotic week. It was the proverbial last straw that broke the camel’s back. But the silver lining was that it had happened on a Friday. As the day played out, I realized that I was going to need a mini vacation from work the moment the clock struck 5. I texted David: “Let’s watch Selma tonight.” Before he had left for work that morning, he brought up catching the Civil Rights historical movie, which was opening that day, about Martin Luther King, Jr.’s 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery, AL, to support blacks’ right to vote. I wanted to see it anyway, but I thought it timely to see it Friday evening. We took the kids. All four of us thought it was a great movie, and we appreciated its theme of equality and justice for all.

Texture in every piece of this outfit: velvet burnout, bejeweled and pintucked blouse, vintage Weiss brooch, metal sequins and beads purse, glossy pumps, and faux fur.

Texture in every piece of this outfit: velvet burnout trousers trimmed in satin, bejeweled and pintucked blouse, vintage Weiss brooch, metal sequins and beads purse, glossy pumps, and faux fur.

But it was important for me to see this movie on the heels of my crappy day because it put everything into perspective. People were getting severely beaten up. People lost their lives over a right that many of us take for granted today. My problem and my work day shrunk as each scene in the movie played out. By the time I came out of the theatre, I saw my work-related problem as a miniscule issue that will get resolved one way or another. On this I was clear: It wasn’t worth exerting another tear or another moment of weakness or anxiety.

Alexis Berger Glassworks chandelier earrings (Castle in the Air, Berkeley), vintage Weiss brooch (eBay), Sundance stack of rings, and sterling silver shell ring (Eskell, Chicago).

What a cure, I thought to myself, as I went to bed that night. But it didn’t stop there. On Saturday, we took down the Christmas decorations. We all agreed that we felt sad to say goodbye to a what seemed like an extremely short holiday season. The house is so bountiful and festive when decked out. It always looks so stark and empty come January. At the same time, I enjoy having my clean, decluttered house back. I brought up Pandora radio on my mobile phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I chose my Peter, Paul, and Mary station, and was immediately immersed in folk music of the 1960s, much to my son’s chagrin, who took to his earplugs and listened to his own music. For me, I was in heaven. “Blowin’ in the Wind.” “If I Had a Hammer.” Crosby, Stills & Nash’s “Teach Your Children Well.” Every song by Simon and Garfunkel. Arlo Guthrie’s “City of New Orleans.” Songs I sang as a kid. Songs that were rooted in the turbulent era of the 1960s. Songs that took me back to my childhood.

Close-up of Alexis Berger's amazing glass-blown chandelier earrings, David's Christmas present to me.

Close-up of local artist Alexis Berger’s amazing glass-blown chandelier earrings, David’s Christmas present to me.

Choosing this station Saturday morning was an extension of watching the movie Selma the night before. I was in the moment. I was mindful. Life was full of vibrancy. I was in an exuberant, hopeful mood as I put away the Christmas ornaments, the Santa and snowman collection, the Department 56 Christmas in the City village settings. While boxing everything up was a sad chore, the promise of the New Year lay before me. A clean house, which translates to a cleared mind and head, allows me to focus and move forward. I also snuck in some Zen weeding in the front yard on Sunday after I took down the outdoor garland on our railings, which also made me feel cleansed.

Another close-up.

I told the kids Friday evening that I’d had a bad day and it was something I had to get over, like a bump in the road. I gave them hugs. I told them I was grateful to have them in my lives because they are far more important than a lot of little things that trip me up in life. David allowed me to vent. He listened patiently. He made a point of clearing off the remaining obstacles on my road this past weekend. Gratitude is a wonderful thing to feel. It makes you buoyant. It makes those other problems shrink to the size and weight of gnats – ones you can smote with a flick of your finger. When you have a mindful weekend and are surrounded by supportive family and friends, you are ready for Monday. You breathe om with inner peace. And you say, “I won’t let the b@st@rds get me down this week.” Bring it on, Monday.

Ready for Monday. In. Style.

The Enrado-Rossi holiday greeting for New Year’s Eve

Posted on December 31, 2014 by Patty

For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await a new voice.
– T.S. Eliot, recipient of the Nobel Prize for Literature, poet, dramatist, and literary critic, from Four Quartets

Sharing my annual holiday greeting on my blog….

Prologue
I began our holiday letter at various times throughout December – and still haven’t finished it! It’s now post-Christmas and I finally have quiet time to reflect on the past year. I decided to keep the snapshot frame around this year’s reflections.

Dear Family and Friends:
As I sit here on a rainy night at SFO, waiting for my delayed red-eye cross-country flight and the frenzy of company meetings but happily anticipating spending time with dear friends afterwards, I realize my current situation mirrors what the year has been like for me and my family: Crazy busy, time slipping through our fingers, sharing adventures, making it a priority to spend precious time with family and friends, shaping our dreams, and more crazy busy.

Reflections of a great year – Barnes Museum, Philadelphia, August 2014.

Our big adventure this year as a family was our visit to Philadelphia this past August. My goal is to have the kids visit major cities and national/state parks every year while still under our roof. I feel the urgency, knowing that I’m running out of time! We chose our nation’s first capital after Jacob’s enthusiasm over a Washington, D.C., 8th grade trip in February. We figured we could enjoy a history lesson as a family. What we learned or memorable lessons: Ben Franklin was the man (thumbs up), while George Washington as president took advantage of a loophole in the City’s no-slaves law by switching out his slaves every six months (thumbs down). We made stops to Baltimore to watch an Orioles game in Camden Yards and outside of Philly to see Gettysburg and Amish country in the towns of Lancaster/Bird-in-Hand/Intercourse. We also caught a Phillies game, much to Isabella’s chagrin – she who does not like baseball of any kind.

City of Brotherly Love, Philadelphia, August 2014.

Promotion ceremony, June 2014.

Jacob: Yes, we have a high schooler in the house
The day has finally come: David and I are parents of a high schooler. Jacob’s two years at Portola Middle School – as we were warned – flew by. His year was highlighted by the D.C. trip and having two wonderful teachers who shaped him academically. Mr. Aloi, his unorthodox history teacher, gave him a love of history – more importantly, a love of the backstory to those memorized dates and names of famous people, places, and events. Mr. McCormick, who was voted teacher of the year for the district, created an environment in which Jacob appreciated English, and this is from a kid who doesn’t like to write or read. Major kudos for that magic! The combination of his love of history and being in our nation’s capital made quite the impression on him. After we convinced him that he isn’t cut out for joining the military, he has settled for learning everything he can about WWII. Months ago, he convinced me to watch Saving Private Ryan with him; we stayed up until 2AM Saturday morning. He has since dug up old DVDs we have – Why We Fight and The Fog of War – and after I summarized these documentaries for him and asked if he was interested in watching them, he said sure. I was thrilled. (Post script: We got to see them during the holiday break!)

As I sit here, among rows of black and steel chairs filling up with weary travelers and amid the constant thump of the escalator, I am warmed by recalling the past weekend. Surrounded by the roaring fireplace and our fragrant Noble Fir tree, we four watched Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, adding our running commentary throughout, nourished by our traditional popcorn, hot cocoa, Trader Joe’s mini chocolate stars, and chocolate-caramel-sea salt tea. The next night we watched It’s a Wonderful Life, which is my favorite holiday movie. They both loved it, and I was touched when Jacob told me later that he really liked the movie. He’s not as talkative as he used to be, though he’ll surprise me with bursts now and then. But while he’s discovering his freedom and I feel that pull away, I also feel a closeness that I know will always remain. Last Sunday evening when I was working in front of the fireplace, he sat next to me on the sofa to study and we shared the blanket that was keeping me warm.

Strike 3 coming off the mound, Fremont, CA, summer 2014.

This year was Jacob’s last season on his Hornets baseball travel team, which was ending after a four-year stint because half the team was entering high school in the fall. The team gelled and played extremely well, winning a tournament and placing second in a few other tournaments. It was gratifying for me – and for David, who was his manager all four years – to see the team’s well-executed plays both on offense and defense. It’s sad to see this era end, but exciting to see what high school baseball will bring. As for his other sport, it will also be “thrilling” for David and me when he finally puts in the time and effort into getting his Black Belt in tae kwondo. We’re still waiting….

Flying high in tae kwondo.

A guest speaker at our December high school PTSA meeting who has studied child psychology gave a short presentation on the teenaged brain – that strange, wonderful, and mysterious organ. She informed us that our brains don’t mature until between the ages of 25 and 30. That explains a lot! It also made me want to tell Jacob – enjoy life and don’t feel pressured about plotting out your life just yet (because your mom will worry on the sidelines for you!). I’m trying to balance the hand-wringing over grades and the nurturing of his love of history, stop-action filmmaking, and animal sciences by opening up windows and opportunities for him to explore these areas. He had a smooth transition to high school and is really enjoying his classes, teachers, and new and old friends. It’s an exciting time for him, and I find myself catching my breath when I spy him from afar and I see him changing, growing up right before my eyes. These are indeed the miracle years.

Spring soccer with Coach Michelle and Coach Brian.

Isabella: Our big-hearted animal lover and steward of the environment
Isabella, who turned 12 in early December, is the over-scheduled child, but it’s of her own choosing. She is involved in fall and spring soccer, band (Wednesday evenings with the middle school band teacher in addition to elementary school band), Shakespeare for Kids, horseback riding lessons, and flamenco. She has always loved animals, but after I took her to an urban homesteading talk, she dreams of raising farm animals and growing a garden, partly because it’s good for the environment. She and her friends have raised funds each month selling home-baked cookies and fresh lemonade for the Milo Foundation, which rescues and adopts out dogs and cats. It warms my heart that she is already a good steward of our earth.

Isabella and Tana at a March performance - flamenco twins.

Isabella and Tana at a March 2014 performance – flamenco twins.

Isabella had a rough academic year with two difficult teachers in 5th grade but is enjoying her last year, 6th grade, at Harding Elementary School (our 10th year!). We look forward to her entering middle school, though the passing is bittersweet. She still holds my hand or slips her arm through my arm, wakes up early on weekends so she can accompany me on walks with Rex, and loves running errands with me. That said, she spends a lot of time now with her door closed, playing with her Breyer horses or looking up rabbit videos on YouTube. She’s growing taller and wears a size 8 now (the curse of the Enrado women big feet), big enough to wear some of my shoes. She still thinks boys and girls should play separately. All that will change in a few short years. But for now, she’s my sweetie. I can always count on her to say, when I ask her what’s up, “Nothing but love.”

Isabella and Maggie in Santa Rosa, summer 2014.

David: An Explosion of projects
After the recession sort of went away, David’s work has exploded to the levels we saw prior to the shutdown in the fall of 2008. Like everybody else in the household, David has had an active year. His office is extremely busy, and has grown to 70 people, while his group is up to eight people, five of whom are quite young. Combined with the volume of work, the youth of the staff has kept David on his toes, a far cry from where things were a couple of years ago. He’s putting in some long hours mentoring the staff and working on several projects, from city blocks of residential structures to smaller renovation jobs. This year also marked David’s final season coaching Jacob’s baseball team, and though he enjoyed coaching over the past six years, he was more than ready to hang up his spikes, sit in the stands, and become a spectator. He’s also been pretty dedicated about attending Isabella’s soccer games.

Enjoying America’s favorite pastime with the Phillies and the Mets, August 2014.

Patty: Finding my way amid the frenzy
I’m in a nostalgic bent right now, and maybe for end-of-the-year musings this frame of mind is appropriate. So now I’m sitting in Portland International, awaiting my flight back home after this business trip and wonderful time spent with long-time good friends Jack and Fay and their kids. I didn’t travel as much this year as in previous years. And aside from the recent Portland, ME, business/pleasure trip, I only traveled to Las Vegas, Orlando, and Dallas, not-so-desirous destinations. We’re continuing to grow my department, a strategic goal of my company, with me still doing some writing but mostly focusing on management and business development, finally working upstream with the sales team and management to create long-term programs (as opposed to having projects land on my desk for execution). In February I was promoted to senior manager of custom content, and I hope to continue that upward trajectory with a lot of creativity and freedom to make that growth a reality.

Turning the kids into Aggies on Picnic Day at UC Davis, April 2014.

I joined the East Bay Lunafest Committee last year and in March we had a successful Lunafest screening. Lunafest is a film festival “by, for and about women” that enables local communities to fundraise for both the Breast Cancer Foundation and local organizations. In the fall, I joined El Cerrito High School’s Investing in Academic Excellence, which is a rare committee that actually makes a difference. We identify academic needs, raise funds, and build out programs to address those needs. It’s very gratifying and we’ll be able to see immediate benefits once we roll out the programs in the spring.

Amid work, extracurricular activities, and family duties and activities, I’ve had to cut back on my blog. I don’t know how I was able to blog three times a week, especially during the busy season at work, for the first two years of its existence. I scaled back to two times a week, and as time went on, I found that I’d go through a week to several weeks (like now) of not having time to write. The blog has also changed a bit in that I don’t have as much time to interview all the interesting women I meet and it’s become less of a lifestyle blog and more of a contemplative blog. David pointed out that the reason I don’t have as much time is that I’m finally exchanging activities like blogging with a couple of hours of sleep a night – a good trade from a health perspective!

My all-time favorite photo of me and the kids, outside the Philadelphia Museum of Art, August 2014.

My all-time favorite photo of me and the kids this year, outside the Philadelphia Museum of Art, August 2014.

I finished my novel, A Village in the Fields, earlier this year, and I began the dreaded but deliberately short search for a literary agent. After a well-known agent who represented one of my favorite authors asked to read my manuscript in the summer but ended up not taking it, I decided to abandon the traditional route. I’ve queried small publishers, and as I wait, I’m exploring other ways of how to get it to my core audience – the Filipino and Asian American communities and Asian American Studies programs at universities across the country. It takes stepping back from reading, researching, and writing to develop and commit to a plan of action, and I just have to do it. Once I do that, I can clear my head and be totally committed to the second novel, which is awaiting my undivided attention. That means the fate of the first novel will be decided and executed in 2015, which by the way is the 50th anniversary of the Great Delano Grape Strike – a perfect marketing tool! Stay tuned.

‘In everything, give thanks’
I find myself realizing – during rare quiet moments or when a miracle or tragedy occurs outside of our family – how lucky and blessed we are. Health, a roof over our heads, a means to make our lives comfortable when so many are without these basic needs. I sound like a broken record to Jacob and Isabella about appreciating what they have and therefore sharing and giving our gifts to those not as fortunate as we. It’s only then do we fully grasp how rich our lives are and how this is really the only way to live. As we close out another year and look to the New Year, as we celebrate the holidays, we wish you much love and joy, peace and justice, and light in your lives!

Rex, our 13-year-old dog in the autumn of his life.

Rex, our 14-year-old dog in the autumn of his life, wishes everyone a long life.

A Village in the Fields: a beginning for the beginning

Posted on February 18, 2014 by Patty

We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.
– Anais Nin, French-born novelist and short story writer

I finished my novel in December, but needed to proof it with one last check. This past quiet weekend was the first time I was able to get to it. Now that it’s done, off it goes. The end of the proofing stage means the beginning of its outbound journey.

Agbayani Village in Delano.

To celebrate the launch of its next journey, I offer the beginning of A Village in the Fields:

Chapter 1: Visitors, Abgayani Village, Delano, California, August 1997

The fever was relentless—like the hundred-degree heat that baked the brick-and-tile buildings of Agbayani Village. Fausto Empleo lay on his bed listening, the window wide open, the curtains still, the table fan unplugged. He didn’t move, though his body pulsed with the chirping of crickets. The groundskeeper’s dog barked, and he imagined jack rabbits springing across the fields, disappearing between the rows of vines. Dusk was spreading across the vineyards like a purple stain, a crushed Emperor grape. With the sun gone, the silver Mylar strips hanging from poles that bordered the vineyard lost their hard glint. The crows—their caws growing in strength—swooped down to snatch the ripe berries as the shadows of the oleander bushes stretched across the grounds.

The heat lingered. Even as the world outside went black.

Fausto clapped his hands. On the third try, the nightstand lamp threw out a circle of light. His nurse, Arturo Esperanza, had given him the lamp weeks ago. Fausto usually laughed when he clapped. The lamp was magical, Arturo had teased him. But this time he drew his arm across his face to hide from the glare. He sucked in his breath, making his ribs ache. Something was seeping into his nostrils—burning wax from a candle, the faint trace of sulfur as if from a lit match. But he had no candles. Again, smoke and musty-smelling wax filled his lungs. When he lowered his arm, his room was studded with hundreds of tall, white tapers anchored in pools of wax—at the edge of his bed, on the dresser, icing a bouquet of plastic flowers, on the windowsill, his desk, the top of the television set—spilling milky lava across the linoleum. The flames merged into a constellation of blazing stars. He turned away, his face prickling from the heat.

He shut his eyes. “Well, God, are you calling me?”

The wind-up clock on his desk ticked like a giant tinny heart.

“Because if you are,” he said, struggling to unbutton his shirt, now cold and damp against his skin, “I’m not ready to go!”

He opened his eyes. The candles vanished as if by the force of his voice. He shook his head. Why did he say that? He was the last of the retired Filipino farm workers at the Village. The rest of his compatriots had passed away. There was nothing for him here. He should be begging God to take him now, but that would mean he’d given up, and he couldn’t admit to such a thing—not yet.

He willed himself to sleep, but sleep came in fits. He woke up in the middle of the night. The lamp had been left on, but its light was weak and it sputtered like a trapped fly. The room was silent; the wind-up clock had stopped at twelve-twenty. Before Fausto could clap, the light went out. A second later the lamp came back on, only to be snuffed out in an instant. It threw out light a third time, but it soon dimmed and then the room darkened for good. Fausto drew the sheets to his chest, afraid that something was going to drag him from his bed.

He listened for a knock on the door. Didn’t his mother tell him, as a child, never to answer a knock at night? It’s an evil spirit come to get you, she had warned. If you say, “I am coming,” the evil spirit will take you and you will die. Though she had counseled him many years ago to be “as silent as Death,” he cried out now, thumping the left side of his chest, “I’m still alive, son-of-a-gun! You go get somebody else!”

Ribier grapes from the Central Valley of California.

Beyond the seven-year plan

Posted on April 12, 2013 by Patty

I never made one of my discoveries through the process of rational thinking.
– Albert Einstein, theoretical physicist

Now that the weather’s warm, unabashedly throw lace and flowers together.

The other night I was thinking about what I would blog about for Friday’s entry. I have several irons in the fire, so to speak, but none fully formed to post. I told myself that I can always “go fishing” again if I wasn’t inspired. And then my sister Heidi called yesterday morning, and in our conversation she marveled at the fact that three months ago she would have scoffed if someone had told her she would be spending her retirement from elementary school teaching, at age 53, investing and working on new business ventures. We were talking about what we had planned to do and what things we stumbled into. It got me to thinking about my “seven-year plan,” which I had never told her about but shared with her on our call.

When I was a senior in high school, my two older sisters were already in college. My mother told all of us that she and my father, retired since I was 10 years old, could not afford to send any of us to a four-year university. We had to attend the junior college in the next town over for two years and then transfer to a university. Fair enough. I held a 20-hour-a-week job at a dry-cleaner shop and loaded up on classes every semester. There was not much to do in either my hometown of Terra Bella or the next town over, Porterville, but I was bound to be productive. And I was bound to get over my painful shyness and introversion, and bust out of my small town. I dreamed big and developed this seven-year plan, which commanded that after graduating from Porterville College, I would attend UC Davis, join the Peace Corps for two years, work for a year to earn money since I wouldn’t have any after volunteering, and then go to a creative writing program (see my Welcome to the Dress at 50 page).

Trying out my vintage dance card pencil pin with reclaimed vintage button ring, and vintage Weiss earrings.

I ended up staying in school three years at Davis, working a year at the UCD law library the year after graduating, and going to Alaska and then San Francisco for my two years of volunteering with the Jesuit Volunteer Corp. instead of Africa with the Peace Corps. Minor adjustments. But I would stick to my plan of attending a creative writing program, which I did. I had met my first husband while a JVC volunteer in San Francisco. Our organization, a prisoners’ rights union run by a Jesuit priest, worked with my husband’s criminal justice nonprofit, and I very much admired his passion and commitment to social justice. His family was from Syracuse, and I chose Syracuse’s creative writing program because of a certain well-known writer in residence and the fact that the university paid my way via a teaching assistantship. The location ended up being central to cementing the relationship, as I grew very close to his parents.

Navy and orange go well together. Think Syracuse! A nude Mad Men pump ties it all together.

After graduation, I returned to San Francisco. It was the natural thing to do. But it was also the end of my seven-year plan. I did not have goals or concrete plans after that very precise list of things to accomplish. I assumed I would get married, get a job, buy a house, and raise a family. Indeed, on the cross-country drive home, my husband proposed to me. I have asked myself a number of times long ago – and then recently while on the phone with Heidi – why I slipped into the pattern of get married, get a job, buy a house, and raise a family. It was a comforting life plan, and perhaps I didn’t trust myself enough at the time to think I could really succeed as a writer. Sure, I could write stories in an undergraduate fiction class or get into a creative writing program. That wasn’t hard, and at times it didn’t seem like “the real world.” It seemed, at least or me at times, that we were just pretending to be writers in this artificial environment. But could I get published? Could I be bold enough to say, I am a writer, and really mean it? Did I have the perseverance and patience?

You can make lace on lace work by mixing the colors.

The short answer was no. I was too much of an amateur. I didn’t trust myself or have confidence in myself, especially after being told in my last semester by a cantankerous poet and professor that I didn’t know how to write. This manifested itself in my not writing at all. I remembered the nervous laughter my fiction-writing friends and I exchanged when we told one another to keep writing after leaving Syracuse. Of course, we would. More nervous laughter.

Another way to break up lace on lace is with accessories: The Edwardian-era purse and mottled brown (animal print) bring more texture and interest in vintage and contemporary.

There is a certain comfort, after going bold, in burrowing in a secure place. What if I had stopped myself and said, this is not where I should be going. When I told my co-worker – at her wedding reception, no less – that my husband and I had separated, all she could say was, “Oh, Patty!” in a forlorn yet knowing voice that deflated me. Months later, she brought up a time during my wedding planning when we were riding up an escalator at the Union Square Macy’s during our lunch break. I had looked off into space and said to no one in particular, “Is this all there is?” My heart broke when she told me. Soon other co-workers reminded me of the many times I showed up to work in the mornings with red eyes and a swollen face from crying. We were not compatible in marriage and indeed had different ideas of marriage. I was unhappy, stunted in every aspect of my life, and I did not know what to do.

I remember scoffing at my husband at the time of our separation when he concluded that one of the problems was that I had married too young, had only been in two serious relationships, and had never really lived on my own. I was 29 years old at the time; how could that be too young? But he was right. I should not have stopped at seven years with my dreams. I should not have entered a place that I wasn’t ready to be. In fact, I had retreated to this place.

A bejeweled collar ties together a striped pink and cream casual blouse and green faux ostrich handbag.

To be clear, I am not advocating not getting married or having a family. I am advocating getting married because you and your partner love one another very much and want to spend the rest of your lives together, learning, exploring, sharing dreams big and small, and helping each other achieve those individual and combined dreams. And if one of those dreams is to buy a house and raise a family, that’s fantastic. But at the same time, job, marriage, home ownership, and family should not be taken on because that’s what people do, that’s what our parents did. Or because at the time it was safe and comfortable. All of those things should not blunt who you are or want to be.

The dreams, the goals, of becoming the person we are meant to be should never end. Don’t stop at a certain timeframe. First and foremost, take time to bloom as a person – the other stuff will either happen or not. But don’t force it. Instead, focus your energies on dreaming big. Go bold. Never give up. It’s never too late, no matter your age, so long as you are young in spirit.

A close-up of the bejeweled collar (Anthropologie) and Carmela Rose bird and sphere earrings.

The Dress at 50

Live the creative, meaningful, and full life

Category Archives: Career

The End of summer: a reflection, a pictorial

Like this:

The Seedling Scholarship: changing the world for the better

Like this:

Don’t let the b@st@rds get you down

Like this:

The Enrado-Rossi holiday greeting for New Year’s Eve

Like this:

A Village in the Fields: a beginning for the beginning

Like this:

Beyond the seven-year plan

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this:

Share this:

Like this: