My in-law's old house is big. It's not a house in the real sense of the word "house". It is actually a building for their business: the business area occupying the ground floor while the residential area is on the second floor. The building itself was badly planned- that is according to my standards. It looked like the structure was planned in accordance with the owners' whim - ok, let's take this wall out and add another bedroom or let's extend this flooring, add a roof and presto, we have a balcony.
Ahh... the balcony. That balcony was called terrace by my in-laws. I had a hard time locating the terrace the first time I was asked to go there. I kept looking for the terrace at the ground floor not realizing that they meant the balcony. I finally figured it out when hubby leaned out from the balcony and called out to me - hoy! andito kami! ( hey! we're here! )
The balcony was a venue for many occasions. That was where my father-in-law kept his pigeon feeds. Every morning he would bang a metal post to call the pigeons for their meal. The balcony , being spacious, was a place to congregate and party too. It was also where the washing machines were located. When I had my baby I thought it better to do my own laundry. One step over the side of the balcony will lead one to the immense galvanized roofing of the ground floor structure. The reflective glare of the sun against the GI roofing made me wear sunglasses whenever I do the laundry. I guess some of my in-laws' employees found me peculiar. I guess their wives and mothers do not wear sunglasses when doing the laundry. But what the heck? Hubby, in his quest to make me look less weird, also dons men's sunglasses when he comes over to see me doing laundry. One time, I was waiting for the cycle to finish when my mother-in-law came by too. It was almost noon and the sun's glare was horrendous. I almost fell over when I saw my mother-in-law wearing women's sunglasses big enough to cover her whole face. She was sweet though. She went out of her way to show her employees and other "tenants" in the house that her daughter-in-law - me- was not queer.
Ahh... the balcony. That balcony was called terrace by my in-laws. I had a hard time locating the terrace the first time I was asked to go there. I kept looking for the terrace at the ground floor not realizing that they meant the balcony. I finally figured it out when hubby leaned out from the balcony and called out to me - hoy! andito kami! ( hey! we're here! )
The balcony was a venue for many occasions. That was where my father-in-law kept his pigeon feeds. Every morning he would bang a metal post to call the pigeons for their meal. The balcony , being spacious, was a place to congregate and party too. It was also where the washing machines were located. When I had my baby I thought it better to do my own laundry. One step over the side of the balcony will lead one to the immense galvanized roofing of the ground floor structure. The reflective glare of the sun against the GI roofing made me wear sunglasses whenever I do the laundry. I guess some of my in-laws' employees found me peculiar. I guess their wives and mothers do not wear sunglasses when doing the laundry. But what the heck? Hubby, in his quest to make me look less weird, also dons men's sunglasses when he comes over to see me doing laundry. One time, I was waiting for the cycle to finish when my mother-in-law came by too. It was almost noon and the sun's glare was horrendous. I almost fell over when I saw my mother-in-law wearing women's sunglasses big enough to cover her whole face. She was sweet though. She went out of her way to show her employees and other "tenants" in the house that her daughter-in-law - me- was not queer.
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