Daily Report: A Trio Of Days. Dogs Don't Fly

Expat's Ladies Husband Ted Trenholme
gets some help unloading the food
from Jim Cunningham.

Donna Trenholme and a hungry kid!
Everybody's ready to eat.

Everybody is fed, and now the ladies
sit down to have lunch too.It's been a busy week so far here in The Jungle. On Monday, the Expats Ladies (and men) did their weekly trip out west to feed hungry kids. They call it The Feeding: Apt, but that sounds more like a horror movie or farm chore than a charitible act; therefore that's the last I'll make mention of of that.

They've been going every Monday for 2 months now, and Epril (although she has to get up at 5 a.m. in order to be in CDO in time to join the rest of the ladies on the trip out West) seems to be enjoying it immensely.

After feeding the kids, the ladies do something fun together, such as swimming. Then, Epril usually takes the afternoon to go to the mall and purchase something pretty.
The remote for my Cignal satellite stopped working, but Paul Cruz stopped by within minutes of being called, determined that the remote was working, took the entire set-top box apart, determined that dust was fouling the electronic eye, cleaned it, and had us back to viewing in no time flat. (I told you he was good.)

On Monday night, there was some election violence here in Jasaan. The supporters of one mayoral candidate burned the signs of another mayoral candidate and beat up several campaigners. That should give you an idea of how violent politics in The Philippines can be: We're talking about people fighting over village mayors here.

Speaking of which, there are now 2 campaign posters hung by my family outside of my house. I'm letting them stay up: One is for my wife's cousin running for city council (same family name and everything), so he's running for any available seat... not a single seat. The second is for Attorney Carreon, who is running for Vice Mayor. He is a family friend and was a sponsor at my wedding, and is also a third-party unaffiliated candidate; therefore he is not likely to be subject to the same intense odium as the mainstream candidates.


The big datus at the monthly meeting
of The Philippine Eagles.

Warren and I with the World's Most
Dangerous Man. (I'm not short... Mike
and Warren are both rather tall.)On Tuesday, it was off to Eagles for their monthly meeting. They have moved their meeting from Sunriva Restaurant to the Hotel Conchita. Sunriva apparently is renovating. Mike Turner tells me that they are "moving their focus" from banquets to something else... though I find that surprising. All of the big clubs met at Sunriva Restaurant. There is something more lucrative than four or five 200-person banquets per week in the restaurant business? Well, good luck with that.

Well anyway, Warren and Jen Meredith joined us at Eagles. I got this year's shirt as well. (It already had a small seam splitting under the armpit when I got it... I'll have mamma repair that.) The food for dinner at the meeting, as usual, was... as usual. The discussions and meeting events were more lengthy than usual though, ending at almost 9:30. However after that: Beer! Although we chipped in money to buy it, it was nice to have it. The last meeting I went to had no social hour afterwards, which entirely sucked.
After the meeting, Epril and I got a ride back to Jasaan with fellow Eagle Kuya Boing.

On Wednesday, I didn't do anything particularly special (other than watch the BBC's performance of Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, and drink strawberry margaritas), but Epril, older sister Susan, kid sister Ednil (along with the always-fey Donkey and Melmar), and new friend Charity all went in to Cagayan De Oro together to join Jen Meredith, her kid sister Bing, Jneth, her sister, and a couple of other girls for a night out at Pulse disco. (They finally got home at 3 a.m.)Oh: Tyson jumped out of my bedroom window today. I was sitting there on bed reading, and Tyson was standing, paws on the sill, at the window. The next moment, I see Tyson's tail and hind paws disappearing out the window, hear a thud on the porch roof 4 feet below, then the sound of claws sliding on plexiglass, and then my father-in-law with a surprised shout, "Tyson!" as my dog plummeted off the roof to the grass 7 feet down.

I rushed to the window to see Tyson bounding around the yard, happy as a clam, and a dozen neighbors and passersby looking rather interested in what had just happened. Tyson soon came back upstairs to the bedroom, but did not make any further attempts to jump out the window. (I think he enjoyed his success... but not so much the process.)

Well, I'm aware that Dobermans as a breed have the "jumping" instinct... I guess that includes "falling" as well.