Leak Proof

“When is a wrench called a monkey wrench?”, I asked my husband as I watched him fixed a leaking water pipe.

“When it starts monkeying around,” was his quick answer.

I noticed a small smile creeping up on his face.

With a very strong water pressure coming into our 25 year old house, it was inevitable that our water pipes and fixtures would give out one by one to the strain. It did not help that the experienced and no-nonsense plumbers we once knew are either OFWs or presently working at the many condominiums and residences coming up like mushrooms. Not wanting to settle for a so-so jack-of-all-trade workman, my husband decided to take on the task himself—one leak at a time.

So for the last two weekends, I have acted as my husband’s plumbing assistant. I hand over to my husband the tool he calls out for—just like an OR nurse. In this short time, I am now able to identify a mechanical wrench, pipe wrench, combination wrench and oil filter wrench.



And don’t get me started on pliers and the merits between going stainless steel, copper or tin.



In the short time, I have gained a better appreciation for a qualified tradesman—plumber, electrician, mechanic, carpenters and the like. They have my high respects. At the increasing rate of demand for such skilled workers, it is just a matter of time (if the time has not yet come already) when these workers will be earning top bucks.



And best of all, I realize that time spent together with my husband on this project was another way of “leak-proofing” our relationship. Dare I say comparable to a candle-lit dinner for two with romantic music in the background--- without the need to dress up.

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Like plumbing or carpentry, cooking calls for appropriate tools. Knives and chopping boards.



25 year old sandok, turner and wooden ladle.



Rubber scrapers, peelers, and whisks.



These are a few of my favorite tools.

But if there was only one tool that I could have in the kitchen, it would be a sharp knife. A knife can determine how quickly and evenly I am able to prepare my ingredients. Although I do not own any state of the art chef endorsed knives, I make it a point to have my knives sharpened on a regular basis. My criteria: a knife that can easily knick a tomato when applying light pressure.

Now if you were to try my papaya atchara recipe, you will definitely need a very sharp knife.

Papaya Atchara (Pickled Papaya)

4 cups grated green papaya
1 tablespoon salt
½ c baby onions, peeled
¼ c sliced bell pepper
¼ c sliced ginger, cut similar to match sticks
½ - 1 c sliced carrots, cut similar to match sticks
½ head garlic, peeled
1 c vinegar
1 – 1 ½ c sugar (more or less depending on whether you want a sweet or sour pickle)
10 whole peppercorns

In a glass bowl, add the grated green papaya and the salt. Squeeze to mix in the salt. Place the papaya in the middle of a muslin or tulle, roll and squeeze out the papaya juice. Do this to the rest of the grated papaya and set aside. (You can squeeze the papaya without the use of the cloth but it will not effectively remove much of the juice.)

In a glass bowl, place the squeezed and grated papaya, carrots, bell pepper and the onions. Set aside.

In a glass or ceramic pot, add the vinegar, sugar, salt, ginger, peppercorn and garlic. While stirring, bring to a boil. Set aside.

Pour the hot vinegar mixture and stir to incorporate. Cool before transferring to clean dry bottles. Refrigerate for at least a week before serving to allow the pickled flavor to mature. Enjoy with grilled meats or fish or serve as a side dish for fried dishes.

The Home of the Heart

My husband and I has been living in the same subdivision for the last twenty years. When we first moved into the neighborhood, there was not much neighbors to be neighborly with. There were only 8 houses stretched out along our 1-kilometer long street. My immediate neighbor was 5 lots away on either side.

Twenty years ago, there was only 1 phone inside the subdivision. It was in a house at the corner of the next street. As our area was relatively quiet, we could hear that phone ring when a call was coming in. Oh, how green with envy I was for the next five years. Celphones were not heard of then-- those were the primitive days.

A long and narrow dirt road lead to the entrance of our subdivision; going out for groceries or medicines was a great inconvenience; there were no fastfood outlets willing to deliver to our area; and, there were but 5 for-hire tricycles (motorcycle with a sidecar) serving our subdivision for certain hours of the day only. Water was pumped up and distributed through the subdivision's tired and old water system. The water contained interesting foreign objects.

But what little there was in terms of urban convenience was made up for by 30-year old acacia trees lining up the streets; views of rice fields on each side of a river; the sound of my children's and their friends laughter as they race through the streets in their bikes; clear night skies blanketed with a million stars.

Friendship with the neighbors were forged initially through the children. It is the natural progress of things. First the kids learn to play in the enclosed gardens. Then they move onto the streets and finally into each others homes. Soon birthday parties were not complete without including our neighbors in the invitation list.

What I lacked in terms of family relations, was made up by the warmth and cordial relationships developed with my neighbors. A cup of sugar, an egg and a bowl of cooked rice would be requested over the fences. A cry for help was never ignored and thankfully emergencies have so far never ended tragically.

Twenty year after, we have a phone plus several celphone lines. A few years ago, we finally got connected to a reliable water provider. The flow of water is strong and clean. Our present access into the subdivision is now a well-lit, wide concrete-paved road. We have a mall, a gas station and a McDonald's Restaurant a mere 20-minute walk away. Where once was a horse stable, now is a taxi company operating so close to the subdivision that travelling to the airport at 5 in the morning is no longer a pain.

Gone though are the rice fields. In its place is a large squatter colony whose size continues to grow each year. And what once was a river is now a thin excuse of its former self. But we do still have the trees and the occasional quiet starlit nights. The neighborhood has considerably filled up and new relationships are getting harder and harder to form. (Is this the price to pay for progress/urbanization?)

Many of the neighborhood children have left their homes to work, to migrate, to marry. Although they may have outgrown street games and slumber parties, they still keep in touch: thru celphones; at chance meetings in coffeeshops; and, Facebook.

My children too have moved on but my neighbors and closest friends, thankfully, remain. It is comforting to know that should a serious need arise in the middle of the night, we need not think twice about waking each other up.

As my daughter once aptly put it in a submitted neighborhood newsletter write-up so many years ago: "You can get a person out of our neighborhood, but you wouldn't be able to get the neighborhood out of the person."

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How do you start relationships with your neighbor? By taking the initiative! And nothing gets things started better than a homey gift-- a potted plant or a bunch of garden flowers; a delicious bowl of soup or a plate of home-baked cookies. Timing is important and if you are observant of their comings and goings (read: nosey ..he..he) you would more or less know the best time to drop in with gift in hand. But if you are shy and fear rejection, you could simply ring their doorbell, hand over the goodies and wish them a good day. Do not be discouraged if nothing happens right away. Good relationships take time and need nurturing. A smile, a wave of the hand, a greeting over the fences can do wonders to hasten things a bit.

To get you started, try out this neighbor-pleasing recipe:

Clementine's Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies
(I found this written behind a bag of choco chips-- the brand escapes me right now. Why they call it after Clementine is probably an interesting story--if I decide to make one up).

You will need to cream the following together:
1 1/4 c margarine or butter
3/4 c packed brown sugar
1/2 c sugar
1 egg
1 t vanilla
Then add to it, these ingredients that have been stirred together:
1 1/2 c flour
1 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
1 t cinnamon
1/8 t nutmeg
3 c Ouaker Oats (Quick or Old Fashioned, uncooked!)
Fold in the following:
2 c semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 c chopped nuts
(you can add raisins as well but just cut back on either the chips or the nuts)

Drop by rounded tablespoon onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake in a 375*F oven for 8 to 9 minutes for a chewy cookie, 10- 11 minutes for a crisp cookie.

Cook for 1 minute on cookie sheet; remove to wire cooling racks. Store in tightly covered containers.