Green Pepper Blossoms

It’s been ages since my last post. I’ve made a conscious decision to re-start blogging and including my military and nursing life. I recall stopping public posts because of PERSEC (personal security) concerns. However, I feel like I’m missing out on a piece of my life I found cathartic, cleansing, therapeutic, and overall important… writing. I’ve tried to remain careful with revealing too much, and frankly, I’ve met the most amazing people on-line. Plus, I’ve learned so much from the relationships that developed through blogging and Flickr.

With that being said, let me begin with a warm welcome from my modest patio garden. I do call it my “F_z Family Farm.” Come to think of it, I still feel as if my married last name is still shiny as a new copper penny. It brings me joy daily but I don’t want to overuse it online. Maybe, in due time.

Last year, I was fortunate enough to have a fellow Army wife who was a vegetarian, organic farmer. She rented 16 side by side plots of roughly 5 ft x 5 Ft at Sumner Valley and joined a co-op chicken coop. In exchange for helping her weed and upkeep the garden, I came home to fresh organic vegetables from seeds! My long-lasting summer romance with WA state and sun shine from 9a to 9p life was in full baskets. Almost every day, I drank fresh kale smoothies, chomped on carrots right off the ground, smelled like tomatoes as I helped border & MacGyver fences to keep the them from falling over, got to know the neighbors and traded crops, learned from well-seasoned gardeners, anticipate harvest and took a class on how to can beets, and pretty much allowed the inner farmer in me that used to live on the land as a child resurface.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I felt so alive.

I didn’t work last summer and re-energized myself with life. Not the life of working-studying-working-commuting-thru-traffic-until-you-burn-out that Houston just is. I miss Houston for different reasons.

Because I went back to work in the ER, I did not sign up for the community garden when my friend PCS’d (change of duty station) last March. Instead of giving me happy thoughts, I became anxious about having a garden all to myself. My husband is too busy with work and hers was high ranking enough and in another company to be able to help her enough daily with the upkeep. She said it helped him with the PTSD. I still had to drive a few miles to the site and with the unpredictable schedule of full time hours, I made a decision I’m regretting today. I passed on a plot.


To compensate, I decided on patio plants like the year before my foray on the farm, but extended my crop to include fruits. There’s a macerated strawberries in balsamic vinegar at a previous post that I cannot wait to do with my strawberries. Hence, the overly squealing school girl here.

Like a mama bird protecting her young, I’ve kept this baby well hidden from predators. I’ve been coaxing the flowers to bloom and make enough for that scrumptious snack.


Roma Tomatoes  My co-worker Helen gave me the organic from seedling heirloom tomatoes. I love seeing the butt chin progression from a budding flower on the Roma tomatoes. WHO KNEW they looked like that!??!  Early Girl & Bush Baby


I was surprised by extra seedling sprouts =)

I was surprised by extra seedling sprouts =)

The watermelon patch is coming along and it brings me back to my younger days. I would sit on the farm and just eat them while people who worked for our family sold freshly picked red, orange, and yellow watermelons on the side of the main highway road in Ilocos Sur, Philippines. I would use a pocket knife to cut out a triangular window to see how ripe they were if tapping them with my 8 year old knuckles didn’t produce that beautiful sound. Tonk. Tonk! I would use an old wire hanger to slush the inside with and slurp it down like a smoothie if I was too lazy to cut it into wedges. My clothes would be soaked in watermelon juice and I would come home with elbows bathed in sticky sweetness.

I had a good childhood by the beach and on the farm. I know I want our children to have the same memories as I.


A couple of friends who constantly ask me for recipes complained they’re missing my foodporn. Honestly, I hadn’t realized MIA for a week from social media would cause chaos & so much worry. I am fine; never healthier, actually. Every now and then, I believe wholeheartedly, one must unplug and enjoy the peace. For the past week, after my month long spicy Indian food jag, I’ve been craving and devouring strawberries. Husband knows how much I love good balsamic vinegar, feta, and SPINACH. What else can one do but roll them all in one wrap… Prep time: 10 mins for the first roll, then 5 mins in no time. say what?!

I am blessed enough to have organic farms down the road or farmer’s market practically every day of the week with fresh picked fruits & veggies. After thoroughly washing, strawberries are quartered and macerated in good quality balsamic vinegar. The spinach are roughly chopped. I prefer the taco size lo-carb non-wheat wrap (hint, hint, Chipotle.) Line them up with faux-Feta cheese in the middle; then, roll carefully. mMm-hmMmm You know what I’m tawkin’ about, Willis!!! It’s missing the walnuts because I don’t have the control or patience of a  food blogger. Plus, I started drooling as soon as that delightful scent hit my nose. No… as soon as I saw the bucket of red gems.

Obviously, this is the vegan version. However, you can add a grilled chicken breast or boiled eggs. Heck, this would be a good breakfast wrap with egg whites. Some roasted red peppers would be divine, too. Live a little; play with your food. The versatility of a wrap is what makes me enjoy it even more. I used to roll cucumber, olives, feta, red peppers, and garlic hummus. Now close your eyes and meditate on that goodness (nomMmmmmmmm). Sorry it’s a short post without nutritional breakdown’ however, it’s a good snack or dinner option. Don’t forget to wash your hands & eat responsibly =d


Originally uploaded by aJ GAZMEN ツ GucciBeaR

Respect yourself enough to walk away from anyone or anything that no longer satisfies your spirit, enriches your growth, & wakes you happy.

revised from a more selfish quote, my take on it.

We’ve decided to add a “words from our married family & friends” section on our scrapbook/keepsake. Because it’s still a work in progress, I haven’t sent out emails or snail mails asking for advice for us newlyweds. It’s a contribution of suggestions, stories, or sweet memories from first years of marriage that would be helpful to us. Preferably, a wedding pic or current “couple shot” is enclosed. Any 8.5 x 11″ sheet should suffice. Hopefully, as people write to us, they remember and relive happy times o^~^o
Here’s a note a good friend told me to share with E. She says it’s the same questions they ask at pre-marital counseling, but answered by children. LOL

Who do you decide to marry? No person really decides before they grow up who they’re going to marry. God decides it all way before,and you get to find out later who you’re stuck with. >Kirsten, age 10

How can a stranger tell if two people are married? You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids. >Derrick, age 8

What does your mom & dad have in common? Both don’t want any more kids. >Lori, age 8

Is it better to be single or married? It’s better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them. >Anita, age 9 (bless you child)

How would you make a marriage work? Tell your wife that she looks mighty pretty, even if she looks like a truck. >Ricky, age 10

Thank you for taking me here, E!!!
One of the chute drop towers all lit up at the US Army Airborne School, Fort Benning
I ♥ tallest “Christmas Tree” for me.
What a sight to see!

The other night, when work was keeping me a busy bee, I came to the conclusion my client went beyond triste incurabilis. There are times, I’ve learned to accept, that my prayers are what I can only offer and no medicine in the world could cure what ails them. A broken heart, one missing vital parts that once made it skip beats, can be the most challenging complaint I am familiar with, but would not know how to fix on others.
My older client’s spouse passed away and was seeking help to mend and remove the pain. When the treatment of talking it out was offered and I was about to discharge, the tears were tripled in extent because someone had stolen the smartphone that contained the last pictures and happy moments they as a couple shared.
When people took from me, I would forgive and say they needed it more. I am a loving person. However, at that moment, I have no love for that thief.

one month down. miss your arms around me. miss having breakfast with you. miss euro training.

I feel like (her) falling in love with me was like a misunderstanding
I am not the type of (good) man you think I am
She is that vibrant of a woman
Unsuited to be with a man like me
She is such a wonderful woman
That woman of mine, she loves me so deeply
That woman of mine, she tells me that I am the world’s best man
Having lived a life of sorrow and struggle
We (now) love and protect each other
I sometimes dislike the me who is not worthy of you
When I make her cry, I end up crying myself
Holding tightly to each other’s hand, taking a deep breath
Just want to live (my) entire life like this.
I love her the most
Over my own, I pray for her happiness.
For her, who only looks at me
I will sacrifice/dedicate my life to love her, this I do swear…

Whenever she sees me, she gives me a bright smile

I should smile back but all I do is stand there and blankly stare

She is becoming more and more like me

When we’re walking together she tries hard to make us look good together

My woman, she really loves me

My woman says I’m the greatest man she knows

I am weak and have lived my life irresponsibly

How can she love me so much and be that good to me?

One of the male leads sings an introspective song on his heart’s feelings for the female lead… song starts at 11min mark. I first heard it on episode 7 though.


NO matter how common she is, she can be a queen.
No matter how noble she is, she can be a maid.
Depending on how she is treated by the man she loves.
How far am I willing to go?

Who would start a love that someone has proclaimed an unhappy ending?

According to the 434-line Modernist poem by T. S. Eliot,

“April is the cruellest month” (its first line).
“I will show you fear in a handful of dust” (last line).

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