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Hi Everyone,

Hope you are all having a wonderful week!

The holidays is fast encroaching. Any plans?

Thanksgiving is right around the corner. It may mean nothing to some people, which is okay. It probably means something to other individuals, so I’ll share what it means to me.

When I think of Thanksgiving, it means tons of food, fat roasted Turkey oozing with sage and butter, stuffing with a rich gravy and all requisite sides: green beans, mashed potatoes, cranberries, and Pumpkin or Pecan pie smothered in lots of whipped cream (please). All of this is part and parcel with a week of travel, cooking preparations, and culminating with the eventual of gaining a well-earned 10 lbs. seemingly overnight and without guilt or shame.

So, when I’m in that well deserved food coma; don’t wake me! I’ve earned it!

I always think of my mother, Ely during this very special holiday. This was her favorite feast day and sadly she passed away on a Thanksgiving week those many years ago. She prepared an early Thanksgiving feast and ate her share of the Turkey the night before. She whispered a prayer before tucking herself in, “Thank you, Lord for your bounty.” Praising God was part of her nightly ritual, and then she never woke up.

Mom was snoring, like a hummingbird and my sister, Conni cracked the door and peaked in before work, at the break of dawn. She thought, ‘Oh, she must be exhausted. I should just let her sleep.’

Mom continued to sleep peacefully, her snores still humming until early morning when my nephew Robbie Jr., just five years old at the time, tried to wake her. He needed to go to school and she was usually delegated the Grand-Nanny duty of walking him to Kindergarten.

“Oma, wake up please.” Robbie said. He gently shook her trying to wake her from her sleep. “Will you walk me to school? I’ll be late.”

My brother-in-law, Robert usually did an eight hour shift, but he’d said, “I had a strange tingling feeling all morning that made me want to come home early from work.”

As soon as he arrived and parked his car in the garage, a flood of emotions tumbled in his system. He sensed something was very wrong. When he got home around midday; he was surprised to see Robbie still at home playing with his Legos.

“What’s up, buddy?” he asked. “Why aren’t you in school?”

“Oma is still sleeping.” With Robbie’s innocent response, Robert’s heart pulsed strongly as he rushed into mom’s room and found Mom on the floor. She was still breathing. Immediately, he called 911 and she was rushed to the hospital.

My sister Conni went to the gym to decompress from work; she was doing Muay Thai training. Suddenly, a message reverberated through the hall, ‘Attention Conni, come to the front desk please!’ The loudspeaker paged her.

Conni was met by her husband Robert at the reception and when she found out about Mom, she released a primal scream from her gut, “No, no, no!” Robert wrapped his arm around her to console her. Shaking, she felt like her umbilical cord had been ripped out of her navel. She and mom were very very close, especially in those last days. Mom gave up on her retirement dream of coming home to Cebu City and had accepted the future of her remaining days in California to be closer to her children who for the most part had migrated to the US.

In the hospital bed she lay in a coma as family members flew in from all over the state to bid their goodbyes. Her sisters were in Europe at that time doing a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. We decided to spare them. Knowing how close they were, they would cut short their long-planned trip to be with their sister. Dad just arrived in Manila International Airport after a grueling 36-hour flight, including all the stopovers. He took the next flight back to the US the moment he arrived at the Manila International Airport. And I was still living in Frankfurt, Germany at that time.

When all my siblings made it to the hospital, Carmen, a family friend walked in.

“Huh, what are you doing here?” my sister asked annoyed, thinking this was an exclusive family affair. “How did you know about my mom?

“Oh, I just saw your mom in a vision. She asked me to come here and lead the rosary.” Accepting her explanation in good faith, everyone present at the room joined in prayer, “Hail Mary, full of grace….” after the rosary was over, Mom exhaled her last breath.

Despite being in Germany, somehow, I knew that mom was gone when I was caught in a reverie that took me through her life’s journey, the second her spirit left her body; I experienced HER life flashed before MY eyes. As if she took me as far as she could, but finally she traveled where I could not go. I wasn’t even asleep, I was wide awake when all this transpired.

So, it follows that Thanksgiving for me is always bittersweet. It reminds me of my mom’s final transition and the importance for being thankful for all that I have.

I still wonder why she loved this holiday so much because when we were still living in the Philippines, we hardly celebrated Thanksgiving at all; it was an American holiday. Sometimes we’d have a turkey, but it wasn’t like how we celebrated it in the US.

In the US it was a fete celebrated in a big way. People would fly from different part of the state to be with family. The airports were always super crowded. Even on the day prior to Thanksgiving, the freeways were stunted with traffic. A normal 45-minute drive could become a 3-4 hours delay. Everyone wanted to be home with family; I guess I shouldn’t wonder at all because family meant everything to my mom.

Historically the sanitized story goes that Thanksgiving originated when the Pilgrims fled religious persecution arriving by the ship named ‘Mayflower’ at Plymouth rock, which later became Massachusetts. They survived a long treacherous trip with half of the people getting sick and dying along the way. Upon arrival they were met by the ‘Indians’ who were the indigenous people, the native ‘Americans,’ who shared their Fall Harvest with the new arrivals. This gave them a new lease on life and of course a reason to celebrate! From that time on forth, the story goes, Thanksgiving was celebrated every year.

Of course, this recounting is a fantasy. There were 102 passengers and 30 crew on the Mayflower in September 1620; the Mayflower colonists suffered a lot during the first winter in the New World. They suffered from lack of shelter, scurvy, and generally poor conditions from having been on board the Mayflower. The Wampanoag people would live to regret taking pity on the Pilgrims. The Pilgrims were starving when the Wampanoag spared them in 1620, but what makes this more amazing was that 6 years earlier the English had met the Wampanoag!

During the meeting Europeans passed along diseases while they abducted and sold into slavery 20 Wampanoag in Malaga, Spain. Among them was Tisquantum, known to the English as ‘Squanto.’ He would spend years trying to find his way home. From the advent of the slavers in 1616, and for the next 30 years or so, the Wampanoag would suffer disease outbreaks which were viewed by the Europeans as the ‘Pagans’ being swept away by God. This of course, was only the beginning of the genocide that would follow for century throughout what would become North and South America.

I don’t know what resonated with my mom about Thanksgiving, maybe she identified with the naïve stories of immigrants making a new life for themselves in the US, after all she was in her 50s when she immigrated to the US. Maybe it was the joyous joining together with family so far from her home? Or simply the bounty that we receive daily. Whatever it was, Thanksgiving was a big deal for her. So much so, that every year at Thanksgiving since my mom passed, I would dream about her and we’d catch up like old friends.

I associate Thanksgiving with my mom, but could never relate to it as deeply as my mom did. Like her I migrated to the US from Germany, but in my 40s. The Pilgrim imagery, even the sanitized version, reminded me of the time when Magellan came to the Philippines and landed on our island of Cebu.

Magellan arrived with his 5 ships in the name of King Philipp of Portugal and he was met by Rajah Humabon and his queen. On that day, 800 natives were baptized, a major feat for Magellan! Rajah Humabon and Magellan sealed their brotherhood in a blood compact, and exchanged gifts. While Magellan gave Rajah Humabon, the cross and Sto. Nino, who later became our patron saint. Rajah Humabon bequeath Magellan his treasury of gold. These historical event are reenacted in Cebu yearly concluding in what can be described as a Filipino Mardi Gras. Its one of our biggest holiday of the year, called ‘Sinulog’. Suffice it to say that there are many versions of these monumental event, but being a history major in college colors my perceptions. This was my ‘take-away’ on the history of Cebu in a nutshell… and how it informs my view of conquest.

For me Thanksgiving is a time for family, gratitude and its an anodyne for grief. Whenever I feel down, maybe an intermittent wave of the blues, I have a mini-Thanksgiving. I start counting my blessings and it makes me feel better by the end of the day.

This is one of the reasons why I chose to come home and live in the Philippines after living many years abroad in Germany and in the US. I am confronted with poverty around me daily, but how can I not be grateful for the many blessings I have, when I see those so much less fortunate than myself demonstrating gratitude. it makes my struggles seem trivial by comparison. Little annoyances, like the toothpaste being pressed from the middle of the tube; or if the toilet papers roll is tucked the wrong way round, pale when compared to real problems.

I live next to a fishing village, and when I greet the day with the first moments of sunrise, coffee in hand, they also welcome the sun with warm smiles and that enliven my day. We all have troubles. This is the human condition, but many of my neighbors deals with life and death survival issues, and they still manage to beam me a smile or share laughter; to me these are nuggets of gold. I’m inspired by those more fortunate who have achieved so much in this life and I’m doubly inspired knowing those less fortunate share their wisdom with me, highlighting what’s important in life. Most often its family! I’m not always able, but we help where we can and when we can. Humanity is truly amazing in whatever state we are in.

I’m grateful knowing the glass is have full, seeing the sunsets, strolls on the beach shore during low tide, and hearing our puppy’s excited yelp. Most of the time I’m finding that I am grateful and content.

Let me know, what are you thankful about?

I love and support Indie Authors

Through my writing journey, I have met a lot of Indie Authors with amazing colorful lives from my favorite FB network group, WLM (We Love memoirs), one of them is Beth Haslam, a best selling author.

Computers and mobile phones were swapped for jaunts to the South of France looking for real estate, trying to understand French customs and wrestling daily with conversational French; its definitely a life changing event. Beth’s experiences are encapsulated in 5 part series of ‘Fat Dogs and French Estates’

”Buying a country estate in France? It’s that simple, right?” Ask Beth.

1. Tell me about yourself.

First, a big thank you, Mitos. It’s very kind of you to invite me on your blog.

I grew up on a farm estate in North Wales. It was a sleepy, countrified place in tune with the changing seasons and the livestock it nurtured. Surrounded by baaing sheep, lowing cattle and playing around knee-deep in cornfields, life for me was bliss.

Our family had lots of animals, and I spent most of my time on horseback or messing around with dogs, cats, waifs and strays. The sea featured strongly in my upbringing too. My father’s side of the family were a watery lot, so we regularly fished and sailed in the Menai Strait, a stretch of water between Anglesey and the mainland.

I finally left Wales after graduating from university. My career was spent in the Midlands and London, where I met my husband, Jack. Work was fun, exciting though demanding. As early retirement beckoned, we decided to buy a second home in France.

At that time, we naively thought it was a simple idea. The escapades that followed became the subject of my memoir series. I am now occupied as never before – raising and saving animals, writing, and embracing everything that rural France has to offer. I wouldn’t change it for the world.

2. Synopsis of your book/series in one sentence.

The crazy but true adventures of a British couple and their two fat dogs as they search for a country estate in France.

3. I love the title of your series. How did you come up with the title?

That’s kind, Mitos, thank you very much. It resulted from finding a simple, catchy way to convey the light-hearted writing style and central themes that run through my books.

4. Why did you write these books?

When we set out, I had no intention of writing about our trip. The things we saw, the situations we found ourselves in, and the constant doggy dramas changed all that. Jack, musing over a gin and tonic one evening, made a telling remark. “Our experiences are so far-fetched you should write a book about them.” So I did.

5. What sort of animals do you have on your estate?

We share our forest with wild boar, roe deer, foxes, hare and a whole host of smaller mammals. Our feathered animals have included partridges, quail, pheasants, geese and hens. But, strangely, no ducks. I’m sure we’ll find ourselves looking after one or two sooner or later!

As well as our furry family members, we regularly provide a temporary home to abandoned waifs and strays. Mainly dogs and cats, although we have rescued two Vietnamese Pot-bellied pigs, one of whom is now part of the family. And I’m sure there will be more.

6. What message or lessons did you want your readers to take from your books?

H’m, that’s a good question. I am a storyteller, and my books are intentionally light-hearted, so readers should not go looking for profound messages. What they do contain are several lessons we learned along the way that might be handy for anyone considering a move abroad.

As a couple of business people, we thought we had everything nicely organized. We had no idea how different things would turn out to be. Nevertheless, we hung onto our aspirations. Being flexible and expecting the unexpected stood us in good stead.

Trying hard to learn the adopted country’s language is also very important. We did this whilst immersing ourselves in French culture. We surrounded ourselves with local folks and celebrated their customs. Before long, they became ours too. Our lives have become enriched, and we have made lifelong friends with genuinely delightful people. Endeavours like these have increased our love affair with France.

7. Which part of France are you in?

We live in rural southwest France, about an hour’s drive from Toulouse.

8. What is your favorite place in France and why?

Gosh, lame though it sounds; I honestly couldn’t name just one. A favourite town is called Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val. It’s an ancient settlement situated in the spectacular gorges of the Aveyron river. I love the cobbled streets, medieval houses, and Roman remains. Mooching around there is endlessly absorbing. And, of course, there is the fortress of Carcassonne. I would visit that extraordinary city every month if I could!

But however remarkable the French villages and towns are, every dog walk we take features breathtakingly stunning sights. Exploring the countryside is a perfect way to discover the natural beauty of France.

9. Given what you know now, would you do it all over again?

Surprisingly, given that we had so many disasters, yes. Without a doubt! We had a grand adventure, and it isn’t over yet.

10. Are you writing at the moment?

Yes. I am currently working on a prequel in which I’ll share stories about my upbringing in Wales. Myths, castles, druids and dragons, it’s all in there, though I may be a little heavy on the myths at the moment! All being well, it will be published in 2022.

11. If you are not writing, what are you doing?

I am a passionate animal lover and gardener. When I’m not pottering around with a wheelbarrow, I’ll be on a daily ramble with our dogs, discovering more about our natural environment. I love exploring too. Our area is peppered with gorgeous ancient villages and towns, many of which have traditional fêtes and expositions. Visiting a new one now and again is a great treat.

12. What advice can you give to emerging Indie authors?

Gosh, that’s a tricky question. I don’t feel qualified to give expert advice. However, here’s what I can offer.

Be brave, follow your heart and persevere. Don’t get hung up on detail such as grammar. That can be fixed. Focus on producing the story in your words. Develop broad shoulders but never lose your grounding. Listen to, and learn from constructive comments, and never give up hope. After all, JK Rowling’s Harry Potter manuscript was rejected twelve times.

13. What are you reading right now?

A birthday present from my sister! It is Richard Osman’s hugely successful mystery, The Thursday Murder Club, and it’s terrific.

14. If you were a fruit or a vegetable, what would you want to be and why?

Ooh, that’s tricky. Probably a spud (potato). A bit knobbly on the outside, with a reliable, versatile centre. :)

Check out more of my author interviews here.

Don’t forget your reviews!

If you love a book, please leave a review.
It is your gift to the Author.

My 5 star review for “Fat Dogs and French Estates:Part 1, posted at Amazon, Goodreads and Bookbub.

I enjoyed Beth Haslam’s ‘Fat Dogs and French Estate’ Book 1. You might think that buying real estate in France would be simple, but there’s more to it than meets the eye! Beth tells us about it in her five-book series. I just wrapped up Book 1, wherein Beth introduces us to the cast of characters; her “irascible husband,” herself of course, and their sweet dogs. As you delve into her mindset, embarking with her on a journey moving to the South of France part time and their hunt for real estate.

The title is apropos and I loved the cover art as well. She certainly has the gift of witty wordplay and she is great with detailed descriptions of the quirkiness of the property owners and their estates, her realtor, and the eccentricities of life in rural France. The meticulous details of her house hunting allow you an insider’s view. Its like scanning the property and the surroundings, feeling her excitement or frustration. This is especially evident with her disappointments when a house falls short of what was promised.

Along the way she also takes you on a drive around rural France exploring the backroads, shares a little bit of history, an intro to local cuisine; I fully understand why she fell so deeply in love with the region. This is definitely a treat especially for those who have not been to France and probably even more for those who have! Many thanks to Beth for such a wonderfully entertaining book and thank God it’s a series. I can’t wait to get to the second book and find out more about her adventures in the idyllic South of France.

You may get your copy here.

More reviews here.

I joined a team of Indie Authors and we made a deal to help promote each other. The logic behind is, we are all in this together. Here’s my side of the deal.

How To Heal: A Practical Guide To Nine Natural Therapies You Can Use To Release Your Trauma over yet.

Get the book here!

Stay at Home Boredom Busters for Kids of All Ages

Buy on Amazon.

5.0 out of 5 stars Read this book

Reviewed in the United States on October 11, 2021

“Shards of Time” by Mitos Suson is an intimate look at not only her own childhood in the Philippines, but also a close-up portrait of unique Filipino culture and family. Through many formidable challenges the author reveals salient parts of her life that largely wrap around the imprisonment of her father under the regime of dictator Ferdinand Marcos. That a disruption to family life of this magnitude occurred as an insecure child tries to navigate a world wrapped in uniquely Filipino customs, is testimony to the emotional strength of the author. Indeed, the book lives up to its title – with pieces of time and place that reveal life in a traditional Filipino family and generational culture – and also, the strength of the writer to endure, overcome and thrive.

You can get my books here.

Sunset Collection

Addicted to sunsets!
Here’s some sunset from our side of the world.
I feel blessed to enjoy sunsets like these on a daily basis.
Do send me your sunset pics from your end of the globe,
where ever you are.

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Have a great week everyone, be genuine, pursue your art,
and live your truth!

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