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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.



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.

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).

When asked why I keep pushing even when odds are beating me down,
why make check off lists & chronological goals,
why stress yourself up like this?

I remembered…
The moment you back down once,
you’ll back down twice to hide the first.

Before you know it,
you’ll stand confused among the zigzagged footprints you’ve left behind,
forgetting the direction you intended to take in the first place.

I was brought up not to settle for where and what I am today.
My parents always told me to be a level higher than them in everything.
In Fox’s Fringe, Peter’s mother tells him in Greek,
“”Na einai kalitero(s) anthropo(s) apo ton Patera tou.”
She wishes him, her child “to be a better person than his father.”

In one of my most memorable movie scenes from Gattaca,
Ethan Hawke’s character was considered a runt yet he defeated his far superior brother.
He says, “You want to know how I did it? This is how I did it, Anton:
I never saved anything for the swim back.

Don’t look at the roadblocks to your success with a sigh and a slouch.
With your face forward and proper posture,
believe that your God is bigger than that mountain and overcome it.

If you remove other options, then there is only one choice:
be the ★BEST★ version of yourself the very next day.
That is one of my life forces.

Were all born with greatness 🙂
Don’t y’all forget that.


Although I’m a die-hard romantic, I’ve no interest in the movie Brokeback Mountain; however, I’ve seen enough parodies of the infamous line between the lovelorn ranchers, “I wish I could quit you.” Like most women, I grew up fantasizing for my own love at first sight with a Cary Grant moment. Falling helpless under the control of someone, be it love or hormonal-pseudo-addiction as I call it, can carry consequences in the real world. Why do men and women wallow for lost loves? Or cling to those that have fallen out of love? Haven’t we heard that the more the man pulls away, the more the woman runs after him o.0
An older woman once explained: the best way to get over a man is to get under one ;P There’s some truth in that, but it’s not safe or long lasting. Mating without intimately bonding isn’t always bueno. We often overlook and talk ourselves into wanting what we have instead of waiting for what we deserve.
For vegan flirts like myself, there’s a kick-start challenge where you go beyond toying with the idea and actually restraining from carnivorous appetites for 21 days at a time. By depriving the dependence to said substance and developing better habits, slowly the search for a daily fix should disappear. After talking to one cowboy and several gorgeous girl friends confoozled by love games, I wondered, why not practice the same cleanse for relationships?

One No Ex Sex
Our amazing bodies betray our human minds easily. The orgasm hormone, oxytocin, causes feelings of attachment. When you look deeply into each others eyes, a cocktail of chemicals can make you cling to your lover and whisper, “I cannot quit you.”
Two Cut off ALL contact
There’s a reason why he or she is your ex. It could stand for bad EXample or for the need to be permanently placed in your past. Period! Remove reasons to initiate calls no matter how difficult it is. Be ruthless with your boundaries!
Three Go thru ALL stages of grief
I know from personal experience that putting off a pity party will only come back twofold. There’s nothing worse than bursting into tears for no reason. In the middle of Wally’s World. Then, again, later that week (o.-)” Like medication, allow yourself a course to cry, enough to melt your eyes, if need be.
Four Identify what went wrong and right
If you still think it’s always them, not me. Then, find an objective friend who’ll honestly tell you the issues. To avoid making more mistakes and prevent future relationshits, make the time together with brand new ex matter by studying the patterns against the previous partners. Ponder this: if the relationship was good, wouldn’t you still be happily in it?
Five Stay away from emotional eating
Don’t replace bad food with another junk. Instead, exercise and fill up on endorphins. Love thyself. Whatever way you want ;P

I don’t want a love like woe for my friends; rather, like Whoa!
Ms. Gaynor sang it best, “I will survive.”
Like I told my little sister before, our bodies were made to endure hurt, but also to heal.
There’s truth in the Buddhist saying, “Pain in inevitable. Suffering is optional.”

Kthanxbai (“( ‘o^,).
I’m off to the gym to love myself.

Camera shutters.
It feels awesome when you’re in the act of breaking your own rules, doesn’t it?
Every wall you’ve built to protect yourself vanished at his first allure.
The tables were turned, Eve.
The rush of sweet sugary candy coated promises you were seduced to.
You acted like an animal, but proving what makes you human is your ability to take a risk.
When you seize the mundane, and become a part of something you don’t know, will you wonder its worth?
When you’re given an opportunity to be a rockstar for the night and satisfy that dream you’ve never shared a soul to,
did he answer your question:
“when you lie at night, what’s missing?
Will you be able to handle the post spiral shame that you must medicate with mango margaritas?
Will you persevere through your decision? lack of judgement?

Only when I was left confoozled than anything.
There are no more men with values.
Ok. Maybe the meditating monks or some hopeless romantics like me out there.
I’m almost as bitter as the undiluted salty sauce,
at the bottom of my sweating, almost empty chalice.
Not exactly sure how I feel about all the stages of grief I’ve been put through.
But, I’ve come to accept, I’ve been played.


I just got back from the gym where a really nice gentleman asked for my number.

Hi! I’m Justin. I couldn’t help but notice you come to this gym often and I’ve seen you at H.E.B. Do you live near the area?

[blush – checking self in mirror – kicking self – wishing I wore a more figure friendly top]

Um, yea. Not too far.

[more convo inserted here]

If you’re leaving now, I can walk you to your car.

[ya- i guess i could cool down some more at home…]

Okay, thank you.

My pleasure.

We make more small talk on our way to my ride in this pretty cold weather.

Oh, wow. I knew YOU drove the Honda Civic. Is it stock? How old is it??!?! The other guys and I have been been talking about you and when you were coming back, so we could ask. I think it’s awesome you drive stick.

Yea, this is my baby.

[Wait a minute….]

Have you ever thought of selling it?

I’m always receiving propositions for the car. At least once a week, a guy will drive next to me and ask me how much I’ll sell it for. They want a project car.

I’m sure!!!! Can I have your number, then? I would definitely like to keep in touch. Maybe we can work-out sometime? I’ll spot you should you decide to lift weights and not do just cardio.


AND THIS IS WHEN I got turned off. bwahahahahahahahaha… My car gets more attention than me. Honestly, she’s a sexy bitch when she’s cleaned up.

Plus, him implying I cannot lift certain weights or machines is right, but that’s not the reason why I haven’t been pumping with my fellow lunkers >_< It’s freaking February; the place is still infested with newbs without gym etiquette!!! gRRrrrrrrrr…. won’t re-rack. won’t wipe down their own sweat. won’t stop staring at the girl with her check list and serious face.

Is it too much to ask for a McSteamy wrapped in a small white towel? Now, HE can have my car =D

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