Issue of November 5, 2017

Panagbenga Flower Festival
Other Links:


Officers and members of the Bakakeng Ancestral Organization and their families including this Ibaloy writer and my mag-ina trooped to the Ibaloy cemetery on Oct. 28 for a clean-up, potluck, and bonding activity in preparation for All Saints’ Day. The organization conducts the clean up at least three times a year to keep the cemetery in Bakakeng Norte clean and free from weeds including illegal encroachments to the area.

The observance of All Saints’ Day affords family, relatives, and friends to get together, re-connect person-to-person and not just through social media, and remember loved ones who have gone ahead to the Great Beyond.

Correct me if I’m wrong but this day should also remind us of our own mortality and that life here in this “vale of tears” is just temporary and short. This being the case, it behooves us to treasure and spend more time with those we love. Who knows? Tomorrow may be too late.

FYI: Congratulations to the winners and participants of the 2017 Mr. and Miss National Correctional Consciousness or Nacocow pageant held recently at the Baguio City Jail quadrangle. Kudos to Male and Female Dorm wardens, J/CInsp. Crispin Dornogan, Jr. and J/SInsp. April Rose Ayangwa, respectively, for the event’s success. Same goes to Asst. Male Dorm Warden J/Insp. Enrique de Guzman and Romelda Escano of the city government, other volunteers and service providers. Cheers!

A magandang Baguio! welcome to visitors of this former Ibaloy pastureland. Let us continue to keep Bag-iw clean and green. We should strictly observe its anti-littering, illegal drugs, smoking, smoke belching, graffiti campaign, and other rules and regulations. Baguio is our home. Baguio is in the heart.

We’re on radio, Wednesdays, 8: a.m. over K-Lite FM with Hillary and deliver reports to other local radio stations when needed. Visit the public information office at City Hall for assistance or call (074) 442-2502.

Here’s “Sonnet” by John Keats: “When I have fears that I may cease to be/ Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,/ Before high piled books, in charactry,/ Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain;/ When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,/ Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,/ And think that I may never live to trace/ Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;/

And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!/ That I shall never look upon thee more,/ Never have relish in the faery power/ Of unreflecting love; -- then on the shore/ Of the wild world I stand alone, and think/ Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.”

Until next week and may our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ continue to bless and keep us all safe.

Your Ad Here

Home | About Us | Editorial Policy | Contact Us
News | Opinion | Snapshots | Week's Mail | Obituaries
Copyright © 2007. All Rights Reserved.