Home-baked bread fresh out of the oven never fails to arouse my maternal instincts. It takes all my self-control to keep from snatching up a warm loaf of bread, cradling it like a baby in my arms, resting my cheek against its delicious-smelling skin, and inhaling deeply. This never fails to disgust people who want to eat the bread. I want to first love the bread and then eat it. So I'm weird that way, but these moments of consummated food-love are a little bit of heaven on earth.
It's all too easy to fall asleep under the blanket of everyday life and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. But once in a while, along comes a sparkling vision that jolts me out of my daily sleep and reminds me of the existence of convictions and worlds so different from my own. "Our beloved LOLA of Guinubatan, Maipon, Albay is the last true messenger of God. So, let us follow her holy teachings so that we will gain TRUE SALVATION without sufferings and without death." In another story I, the intrepid heroine, the adventurer seduced by mysteries, the pilgrim in search of truth, would follow them back to Guinubatan from Session Road, thirsting to see and hear their Lola for myself. However, it's all too easy -- much safer! -- to fall back asleep under the blanket of everyday life, and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. Then along comes 9 a.m., and really, it's time to down the dregs of coffee at the bott