inglés example sentences with "OAT"

In the long run oat flakes with advocaat for breakfast will knock everybody's socks off.
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Can you tell the difference between oat and wheat just by looking at it?
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Tom put some oat milk in his coffee.
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Oat porridge tastes best with milk.
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I have an oat spikelet across my throat.
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I arrived at the cafe right after 6:30 in the morning of the 7th of November of 2021. There were the three regular customers chatting at the front table: a Cantonese, a Nordic, and a Mediterranean. I drank steamed coconut milk and ate an oat bar and a bag of potato chips. It was quieter at that time.
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Feeling a bit sedentary, I took my second walk in the morning of the 8th of November of 2021. By around 10:30, I was at the pizzeria. The pizza vendor was a chunky Hindu Sri Lankan. Then, at the cafe, I was drinking coffee-infused iced oat milk. A couple, both brown-haired, sat at the table across the room. The man in a green jacket, light brown pants, and grey garden clogs was in good shape. I wanted to see him nude. The woman was wearing a red scarf. He was reading a fat book, whilst she was using a tablet computer. A trio of Mandarin-speakers seated themselves at a table next to the couple. A muscular Arab man who was frequent at the cafe entered. Chris the half-English half-Japanese barista in a black shirt with the red-lettered word "PARIS" and in green pants entered.
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In the morning of the 9th of November of 2021, as I entered the cafe, a muscular white man with black hair in grey and blue clothing entered before me. As it was full inside, I had to drink my iced oat milk at a table outside. Then, I ate two slices of pizza at my friend Rose's pizzeria. Nearby, a big labourer exclaimed, "You think the Netherlands is a different province..."
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Tom bit into the flapjack, and oat flakes fell on to his coat.
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On the 11th of December of 2021, I sat in the Christmas-decorated cafe with my oat milk latte. Hans the Netherlander rolled in with his wheelchair. He said that he had eggnog with rum at home, and then it was time for coffee. We talked about astronomy, our real shared interest. The James Webb Space Telescope is being prepared for launch in French Guiana. If successful, it could provide much better clarity of images of space objects. USA, EU, UAE, India, and PRC are all roving on or encircling Mars with their robots. Mars would be humanity's second planetary home, some would hope.
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On the day before my birthday of 2022, I ate a Yummy Meat pizza at the pizzeria, and at the cafe, I drank a glass of black iced tea and I tried a cup of pistachio latte with oat milk. I told the Vietnamese barista Jessica there that I could really taste the pistachio in it.
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In the sunny afternoon of the 21st of January of 2022, I ate two pizzas at the pizzeria, and at the cafe, I drank a pistachio latte with oat milk. There, a hunky man came in, wearing a black baseball cap, a grey hooded jacket, and beige shorts.

In the afternoon of the 11th of February of 2022, I drank black iced tea at the cafe, which was full of standing students. There were Filipinas at two different tables. A stocky redheaded bearded man in grey ordered coffee. A big-bodied Hispanic entered to use the washroom. Later, I was the first customer at a brand-new bubble tea shop nearby, where I ordered taro oat milk iced tea and a blueberry cheese dorayaki.

In the morning of the 21st of February of 2022, on my way to the pizzeria, I saw a thickset bearded man in black, as he pumped a tire of his car at the gas station. At the cafe, there were brown men. I drank a cold pistachio latte using oat milk.

And oat production has fallen by almost ninety-five percent.

In the grey-sky morning of the 24th of March of 2023, Greg and I, both Filipinos, discussed some matters at the teahouse, whilst I had a cold Strawberry Oat Matcha Latte, and Greg had his coffee with cream and sugar in a big white mug and a croissant on a little plate. The athletic-looking, head-shaven Filipino, Rodney, was eating a sandwich at a table near a window. Chen, the military-looking, stocky Chinese was sitting by the counter. From my red Eddie Bauer waist pack, I took out and showed Greg my two mini dictionaries of Esperanto and Tagalog. We talked about a lot of things, including my predilection for the Finnish language and the Swede-Finn writer Tove Jansson, languages including Spanish that we learned in school, mestizos like Boris Yeltsin in Eastern Europe, Tibetans, and Elon Musk's vision for Mars as a second home for humanity.

In the morning of the 26th of March of 2023, Greg and I, both Filipinos, were talking in the teahouse, as I had my nth order of Strawberry Oat Matcha Latte and Greg, having already finished his coffee, attended to his newspapers and magazines. The barista at the cashier was Stefania, a beautiful black-haired Italian with an accent. Marlin, my Filipina friend, was sitting at a corner near the window. Near the counter stood a handsome head-shaven Japanese-looking man who was fluent in English. Greg and I discussed martial arts. There were the karate, judo, aikido, and kendo in Japan. There was the kung fu in China. There was the capoeira in Brazil. There was the arnis de mano in the Philippines. We mentioned Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan, famous martial artists in the movie industry.

Farmers harvested a bountiful oat crop this season.

Oat fields stretched out to the horizon.

The oat crop was ready for harvesting.

The seed of the oat plant is called a groat.

These days, I am wearing my red touque with orange letters in Tagalog, "MGA AWSTRALYA ANG MGA ESTRELYA," alluding to space colonization and the cold and hot deserts of other worlds. These days, I talk with Greg, my religious Filipino friend, at Starbucks café. We talk about travelling, anthropology, international food, and religion. This morning, I played in the midst of dense fog in a neighbourhood grassy field. At Starbucks café, in the foggy morning, I was drinking my reddish Passion Tango iced tea, which contained hibiscus, lemongrass, cinnamon, passion fruit, pineapple, and so forth. Greg gifted me a chocolate croissant. At Starbucks café, in the grey-sky afternoon, I was drinking the seasonal Oat Nog Latte. (Incidentally, Nog is a dwarf-like Ferengi alien character in the Star Trek franchise.) Kristina, part-Inuit part-Norwegian, was my barista. She has a handsome face, and her mannerisms and style reflect some things about her Inuit ancestors. "Viktor, it's like you're part-Inuit," she told me. She knows that I am from the Philippines. At my table, I exercised with my hand grip strengthener, which I carried in my army jacket pocket. At the café, I greeted Don the alluring white man and Květa the solitary Czech lady, as I exited. It is the 4th of December of 2024.

Here on Lulu Island, a few days ago, I've tried the Jerk-spiced Chicken Rice Bowl from Subway, but I've yet to try the expensive Hawaiian goodies at Steve's Poké Bar. This morning, the 25th of November of 2024, after 6, still dark as night, I saw Michael J. the Dane-French, whilst I was walking. He showed me new pictures on his cellphone about strange neighbourhood lights that he attributes to extraterrestrials. I mention to him about Elon Musk's apparent position on the matter that aliens haven't visited us here on Earth, but he doesn't discount the mathematical probability that life, intelligent or not, exists on faraway worlds. He's mentioned that there may be many one-planet civilizations that may have died out. He thinks that it is important that our Terran consciousness would be propagated outside of Earth for our own security. It's important that we have a "multiplanetary" civilization, Elon opines. We don't want to be a one-planet civilization that just dies out. I told Michael my two reasons that aliens would hide from us: (1) They're higher beings that have compassion for lower beings like us Earthlings, and (2) we as Terrans and Earth as a whole could be their EXPERIMENT, so they don't want to disturb it. Later, walking, I reached Starbucks café. I drank an Iced Gingerbread Oat Chai, then a reddish Passion Tango iced tea, from my barista Emma, an Iranian. At my corner window table, I was reading the Esperanto sci-fi book La Imperio Ornaks.

Whilst drinking my Oat Nog Latte at Starbucks café, this grey-sky morning, I was talking to Afroz, a worker at Kin's Farm Market on Lulu Island, which I frequent to buy exotic things (to others) like lotus roots, Japanese yams, kumquats, dragonfruits, longans, jujubes, Hawaiian purple sweet potatoes, passion fruits, star fruits, etc. Afroz is what he categorizes himself as a "generic Indian Muslim." He was from Uttar Pradesh. His last city was Mumbai, before he left for BC. His daughter has been left with her grandparents in India. Afroz lives with his wife, a caregiver, in Vancouver. Afroz has an MBA from India, but he says that it is difficult to attain his dream job of doing marketing. I told him that my Auntie Vicky from the Philippines was working as a manager for Tupperware (a plastic container company) in India, as she lived in a "palace" with servants. I could not visit her at that time because I was working. (She also worked in Thailand, which I did visit.) It is the 8th of December of 2024, today.

These days, at Starbucks café, I have been addicted to Oat Nog Latte, but this morning, I decided to have Iced Gingerbread Oat Chai. I sat in the back, near the restrooms. It is a grey-sky day. I walk practically everyday to get to the café. It was extremely windy, today, though. I stopped at Yummy Slice pizzeria for a Diet Coke and Subway sandwitcheria for a Turkey Ranch "Snackwich" just before the café. Heading home, I then visited Kin's Farm fruteria. Grandma Taiwan was there at the front: "Míng sà la!" she exclaimed. The lotus roots were out of stock. The wind was ferocious, as I walked back home. The neighbourhood Tim Hortons will be opening soon. Today is the 14th of December of 2024.

I walked at night, here on Lulu Island. As I entered Starbucks café, sitting at a table with two Doritos bags of chips, one purple and one red, were Peter the redheaded Anglo and Hans the Netherlander on a motorized wheelchair, who offered to me. I took a few chips from both bags. Then, I was drinking reddish Passion Tango iced tea, then Oat Nog Latte. I was munching on crème brûlée almonds. I was exercising with my hand grip strengthener at my table. There were a regular couple with seemingly American spoken accents. The man was a handsome white-haired bear, always wearing a sports outfit. At Hans' request after he exited, Peter gave the purple Doritos bag to me and the red one to Chris the Japanese-English hybrid, who was a barista. The other barista was Jessica the petite Vietnamese. There were Filipino customers. Jessica asked me if I knew what was "lomi" (a Filipino noodle dish). I said that it was "rāmen." Homebound, walking, I accidentally tripped on a wooden board in a dark alleyway. My eyeglasses fell off. Luckily, I was not hurt. A Cantonese labourer helped me. Today is the 14th of December of 2024.

After two in the morning, I was awake, trying to read an Interlingua book, Le torno del mundo in octanta dies, by Jules Vernes. But the lamp in the living room was too dim. I ate a few pieces of Italian round waffle-like cookies, pizzelle. I went back to sleep on the couch. Later, it was a drizzling morning, cold and clammy, this Boxing Day of 2024. I walked twice to the neighbourhood's Tim Hortons. Firstly, I ate two hash browns, whilst drinking an iced coffee with oat milk. Secondly, I ate a crispy chicken wrap with a glass of blackberry yuzu sparkling quencher. At both occasions, there were Eurasian children, and there were Filipinos that looked handsomely Japanesque. I was exercising with a hand grip strengthener at my table, as I counted to twenty in Esperanto, in each set: "unu, du, tri, kvar,..." In the afternoon, this Boxing Day of 2024, the sun came out of the clouds, the drizzle stopping for the while. An odd cabinet mirror stood by the sidewalk, so I could see my bare legs and mauve garden shoes in the reflection. I walked to Tim Hortons, there to drink an iced coffee with oat milk. The café was crowded. At night, I went back there to eat a roast beef and cheddar sandwich with an oat milk iced coffee. A brown family popped in to break the empty silence. A pensive white man said that I liked the word "blossom": Maybe, he was waiting for spring?

This winter has been warmer than usual, so far, without snow, here on Lulu Island. In the morning, this 27th of December of 2024, I walked twice to Tim Hortons: Firstly, I ate two hash browns with an oat milk iced coffee. Secondly, I ate a sausage egg English muffin meal, including a hash brown and oat milk iced coffee. I went to Starbucks for an oat nog latte. I missed Greg, my Filipino friend, who left just before me. Then, I went to Yummy Slice pizzeria for a red-can Coca-Cola Zero Sugar. The Filipina vendor Rose was there, so we said "Happy New Year" to each other. I passed by Kin's Farm fruteria. On my way home, in the park's alleyway, I met and talked with my ufologist friend, Michael J., a Dane-French. He amused himself with the red touque on my head, with orange letters in Tagalog: "MGA AWSTRALYA ANG MGA ESTRELYA" (The stars are Australias). I told him it was about "space colonization." There are the cold and hot deserts of other worlds. Then, I went to the house of my "auntie" neighbour, Tita Zeny, to pick up her homemade "dinuguán" or Filipino pork blood stew to bring home. Lunch at home would include Filipino chicken "adobo."

In the evening, I returned to Tim Hortons to eat what was becoming my usual: two hash browns and an oat milk iced coffee. I should, maybe, go back to croissants, sometime. There were Sinospheric customers. There was a robust East Indian customer in a corner. One South Asian vendor commented, "Viktor is still like an embryo!" At home, I listened to a radio app on my tablet: Zouk Hits, Southeast Asia Psychedelics, Baroque, etc. It was the 27th of December of 2024.

The morning was drizzling, this 28th of December of 2024. (Incidentally, there are 28 letters in the Esperanto alphabet.) I walked to Tim Hortons, there to eat a croissant and a hash brown, and to drink an oat milk iced coffee. Amongst the vendors were handsome men, Joban and Pushpak. The ladies were pretty. They were all South Asians. There was a fat Eurasian boy toddler with his white mama and Sinospheric papa amongst the customers. At our house, Rex, the cousin of my cousin Eve, arrived from the states. A devout Roman Catholic Filipino, he was wearing a necklace with a hanging crucifix when he greeted me. I exclaimed "Mr. Lingo!": Like I, he has been a long-time language fanatic, and now he is learning Portuguese and Polish. He knows that my "favourite" is Esperanto. He amused himself with my dark red T-shirt with the vertical phrase in white letters in Spanish: "¡Las estrellas son Australias!" ("The stars are Australias!" about outer space and potential future colonies on the cold and hot desert worlds beyond our Earth). I was wearing also a red baseball cap with yellow lettering of "XANADU, TITAN": a reference to a mystical region on Saturn's moon. Rex would be sojourning with my Filipino family, here on Lulu Island, for the weekend visit. He earlier communicated that he would want "bubble tea" from here. I complimented Rex that he still "looks the same" from decades ago.

About 6 in the drizzling morning, I headed walking towards Tim Hortons, here on Lulu Island. I had a chai tea with oat milk and a four-cheese savoury twist pastry. Later, my Cantonese friend Gary showed up; his family has been in this country for generations. Besides English, he speaks Cantonese and Mandarin. Some people want to live in a different country: Gary wants to live in Vietnam, specifically Ho Chi Minh City, for part of the year, as he has a girlfriend there. He said that he was not having too much language difficulty there, despite that I know that most signs there are in Vietnamese. He suggested that I buy property in the Philippines, where it would be much cheaper. I said that I do not really prefer a Xtian country. I talked about the city of Ayutthaya in Buddhist Thailand, full of expatriates admiring ancient temples there. Later, before 8 in that morning, I walked to Starbucks, and I waited for my Filipino friend Greg, but he did not show up this time. I was drinking an iced strawberry oat matcha latte. Today is the 5th of January of 2025.

Today is the 14th of January of 2025. It was night at Time Hortons café. I ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges with Wildberry Hibiscus Lemonade Quencher. Joban the South Asian was my vendor. In the morning, I had a couple or more cups of Green Tea with Oat Milk, which, someone expressed, "tastes like ice cream." It was night at Starbucks café. I ate two Belgian Liège Waffles. The Brown Sugar Oat Cortado interestingly tasted like jackfruit. I was going to tell the Japanese-Anglo hybrid Chris the barista or Jess the Anglo barista. Money is just an inhibitor, sometimes. Money is poverty, sometimes. Life should always be sensual, a sensory wonderland. Life is ephemeral, full of fleeting experiences. Do I believe in the Akashic Records, the memory compendium about everything? The following day of the 15th, I saw Hans the Netherlander in his motorized wheelchair at Tim Hortons. We sat near the sun-drenched bay window, as we chatted and ate Sea Salt Potato Wedges. I was drinking Orange Pekoe tea with Oat Milk for a change.

I woke up early today. I started my café-hopping here on Lulu Island just after 5 in the night-like morning. I walked to Tim Hortons to have a Green Tea with Oat Milk and a Sausage Egg Cheese English Muffin. Pushpak the South Asian vendor was not there today. I was the only customer in the vast chamber. Then, I walked to Starbucks. My baristas were Nicole the Filipina and Jessica the Vietnamese. I was drinking a Brown Sugar Oat Cortado that comes in a cute, little ceramic mug. It tasted like jackfruit to me. Jessica from afar whispered loudly and solemnly, "Richmond is not like Asia." A regular, a big white man with white hair, sat with his tablet computer at a table near the washrooms. I thought that he was playing games on it. It was the 23rd of January of 2025.

Later in the morning, before 10, I returned to Tim Hortons. I walked as I usually did. At a corner of a long table with a graphic of an ice hockey rink, I was eating an Herb and Garlic Pastry whilst drinking a Specialty Chai Tea with Oat Milk. Pushpak the South Asian vendor was there, then. I saw my friend Leo the Filipino with a big bag of groceries for "two weeks' worth." He said that he still ate Filipino-style, despite being here in "the Great White North." There was a dark-haired technical man with a strange Euro-like accent using a sophisticated ultramodern rotating black camera on a tripod for taking "measurements for insurance." He mentioned the word "lighter." At home, I listened to music from a radio app on my tablet: Happy '70s, '80s & '90s Pop Rock, House: Deep to Future, Baroque, Zouk Hits, and Southeast Asia Psychedelics. I was earlier today making contributions to articles in the Tagalog Wikipedia. It was the 23rd of January of 2025.

I returned to Tim Hortons café at night. I was drinking an Iced Coffee with Oat Milk at a corner near the bay window overlooking the darkness of the intersection outside. My neighbours, Ming (Richard) and his white wife Linda, were having a "banquet" on the long table with the ice hockey rink graphic. The couple liked to frequent Victoria, BC. I said that I remembered a big beautiful boarding house there, antique and owned by a gentle Sinospheric family. In the café, at a different corner near the bay window, were a foursome sharing a table together: two head-covered Arabic ladies and two Sinospheric ladies. They all were having a lively chat. It was the 23rd of January of 2025.

The snowfall renewed its vigour this morning of the 3rd of February of 2025, here on Lulu Island. I trudged in the white snow with my dark blue boots, as if I were on a strange alien world. In the morning, at Tim Hortons café, I was drinking an Earl Grey tea with oat milk. (Earl Grey was Captain Picard's favourite.) I was eating an herb and garlic pastry. On my return to that café in the afternoon, I was drinking a peppermint tea with oat milk. I was eating a croissant. Rikku the Indian was my vendor. I was conversing with Gary the Cantonese. He was wearing a black jacket, green camouflage Vietnamese military pants, and brown boots. He was thinking of his return to Vietnam for vacationing: Ho Chi Minh City, Da Nang, and so on. He was thinking of his Vietnamese girlfriend there. He also was looking for another roommate for his hardwood-floor, marble-counter abode, here on Lulu Island. His roommates take care of his place, whilst being away for months at a time.

There are still several centimetres of snow left on the ground, here on Lulu Island, this 4th of February of 2025. At home with the view of the bluish grey sky through my bedroom window, I reviewed my Chabacano, Philippine Creole Spanish, on my tablet. I perused a printed book about it, yesterday. I would give myself three stars out of five stars total for my Chabacano skills. I can read it quite well. I like that Chabacano has no verbal conjugation, but just has aspect markers, unlike Spanish. I assign the colour beige to Chabacano. I opine that more people should know it. I trudged in the snow going to Tim Hortons, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. In the morning were Earl Grey tea with oat milk and a roast beef Craveable sandwich. (Earl Grey was Captain Picard's favourite.) In the afternoon was an iced coffee with oat milk and cane sugar. Gurpreet the Indian was the vendor. Corpulent Dominic and his daughter Fiel, Filipinos, were sitting near the bay window overlooking the snowy street. I saw in passing Gary the Cantonese in green camouflage Vietnamese military pants, as I exited the washroom and eventually the café itself. For lunch at home, I had spaghetti with Mexican banana chips and a glass mug of hot lime water. Yesterday, Gary and I discussed horseback riding. I tried it, but I could not control the horse well. Gary lived in earlier years near North Vancouver's stables. He preferred motorcycling, as in Vietnam. I said that I was too "klutzy" for such.

Today, the 18th of February of 2025, I go walking to Tim Hortons several times during the grey-sky day. I drink White Chocolate Pistachio Oat Milk Latte, cold, twice. Yesterday was the first time that I drank it. Yesterday was a day with Latinos: In the afternoon, there was a handsome round-faced mestizo: Caucasoid and Amerindian. He reminded me of myself, like a mirror image. He seemed to interest himself in Chabacano, Philippine Creole Spanish. He was fiddling with his smartphone. We smiled at each other without talking, as if he did not want to speak English with me. Last night, there was a younger Latino with a Latina, talking at a table next to mine. The man mentioned an Esperanto word, "Nikaragvo" (Nicaragua), to which I obliquely replied with "Gvatemalo" (Guatemala). I sensed that he interested himself in Esperanto and Lojban, from the way he was talking to the woman.

Today, the 18th of February of 2025, I ate two sandwiches on separate walking trips to Tim Hortons café: In the late morning, I ate a Roast Beef Craveable sandwich, then in the afternoon, a Crispy Chicken Craveable sandwich. It was a grey-clad sky. I usually have a small Earl Grey tea with oat milk. At home, as a break from my studies of Chabacano, Philippine Creole Spanish, I read for practice some stories aloud in "real" Spanish, of speculative fiction. Spanish has lots of available literature. Meanwhile, Chabacano itself needs more written literature, I opine: On the Web, all I could find that were substantial models were religious magazines from Jehovah's Witnesses, even though my spiritual inclination is towards Science, Buddhism, and Animism. Oh, well! The next day, I would discover that Grok AI could write stories in Chabacano! The AI would manufacture stories about Jack and the Beanstalk, and as well as about Count Dracula and his red horse carriage, all in Chabacano.

"16" reminds me of the 16 Basic Rules of Esperanto Grammar, as today is the 16th of April of 2025. Esperanto is more popular in places like Brazil, China, Indonesia, Korea, Congo-Kinshasa, and others. Around 6 in the morning, I brought my lime green sack with a green lizard illustrated thereon. Therein, I usually carry my Esperanto book, Tra Lando de Indianoj, by Tibor Sekelj, about life in Native Indian territory in the Brazilian Amazon jungle. I read it in the cafés. Firstly, I was at Tim Hortons café here on Lulu Island to drink Earl Grey tea with oat milk and eat a sausage English muffin. Gurpreet the Punjabi woman was my vendor. Then I walked to Starbucks café to drink steamed oat milk in a white ceramic mug. Jam the Filipino was my barista, and Jessica the petite Vietnamese was my vendor. For early lunch at home, I ate chicken and fried spring rolls with noodles and drank hot lime water on my sunny verandah. Later, after 11 in the morning, it was my second walk of the day. I was then at Tim Hortons café to drink another Earl Grey with oat milk. Rajvinder the Punjabi lady who has a similar profile to my cousin Myra in the Philippines was my vendor. Gary the Cantonese fan of Vietnam was in the hall. It was sunny outside, with blue sky, but with a bit of chilly wind.

This 17th of April of 2025, I walked to Lulu Island's Tim Hortons café, early morning, after 5, there to enjoy an Earl Grey tea with oat milk and a sausage English muffin. The vendor was Sukhman, the elegant Punjabi lady. A big white man with tattoos on his legs was standing by the till. He was wearing a black and blue checkered shirt. Ken, also a big white man, but with white hair, sat in his usual corner. It was still dark sky outside the bay windows. Jack the Chinese man in a brown jacket rendezvoused for his coffee. Before 10, with sunny weather, I walked back to Tim Hortons café this time to enjoy a Chai tea with oat milk and a croissant. The vendor was Rikku, the affable Punjabi lady. Gary, my Cantonese friend, a fan of Vietnam, sat at the long table etched with lines of an ice hockey rink. He was wearing a black leather jacket and green camouflage Vietnamese military pants. On my way home, I met Michael L. J., my Dane-French ufologist friend. And he showed me on his cellphone another video of mysterious lights in his bedroom; he attributes them to extraterrestrials. I kept to myself my thought about the Zoo Hypothesis. For lunch at home, on my sunny verandah, I ate barbecue pork on a bed of salad with red-tinted rice. Afterwards, I was eating a Tohato-brand matcha-flavoured Japanese Caramel Corn snack from a green plastic bag. Mama has Chef Tony Buns with Egg Yolk Lava in the freezer. They are black on the outside, I think, because of charcoal or something.

After 18:00 on the 15th of April of 2025, on Lulu Island, I walked to Tim Hortons café, there to meditate whilst having an iced coffee with oat milk. Joanne my Ukrainian-descent neighbour popped in to buy a Wild Blueberry Muffin, for her neighbour Eve. With the brown paper bag in her hand, she sat for a moment at my table, and we talked about meditation. I said that I used to go to meditation classes in a Thai Buddhist temple, Wat Yanviriya, when I lived in Vancouver, BC. Joanne said that she meditates every morning, but without formal postures. Joanne is the wife of my friend Rod. Joanne likes astronomy. I like women, and men, of course, who like astronomy. After Joanne exited, by then it was about 19:00; I watched the glow of the sun behind the townhouses outside the bay windows. The sky there was cloudless. There were a few brown men in the café.

Before noon today, I walked, returning to Tim Hortons café to drink a Vanilla Cream Cold Brew with oat milk. I introduced myself to Ken, who wore a dazzling white-on-black T-shirt with the word "GORILLAZ" and a drawing of a face on it. He said that his daughter brought it from her trip to Japan. Ken, I think, is a motorcyclist because he carried a helmet and had a black leather jacket. On my way home, I noticed everywhere the profusion of wild dandelions with their yellow blooms and already white seed puffs.

I walked again. Around 15:00, I found myself in Tim Hortons café again, this time for an Earl Grey tea with oat milk. At first, in the hall, there were only I at one corner and a lively olive-skinned black-haired man sitting at another corner. The sunshine bathed the hall through the bay windows. Then, a threesome African family sat and ate, then left. Some multiracial kids came to sit and read printed books. A familiar big-bodied Japanoid came in, holding a big plastic jug with dark purplish juice liquid inside. He ordered a pinkish red slush drink, and he sat a table in front of me. He was wearing a brown checkered jacket, green shirt, and blue jeans. He carried a big green sack. He plugged earphones into his ears.

It's the 25th of April of 2025. In the still sunny early evening, around 18:00, I found myself again in Tim Hortons café, this time to enjoy an Earl Grey tea with oat milk, a Crispy Chicken Craveable sandwich, and a Lemon Poppyseed Muffin. There was a corpulent man who was partly Amerindian. Salish, I presume. There were some Bharati scattered about in the hall. Homebound, I noticed that the blue mountains in the horizon are still topped with snow.

'Twas a cold morning. As my imagination of Esperantoland, the café Starbucks was my walking destination. Sitting outside in front were Les the Japanese, Marlin the Filipina, and their Chinese friend, all chatting away. Inside, 'twas quiet. I was drinking Iced Cherry Chai with oat milk. Greg my Filipino friend didn't show up today. Homebound, I went through Dunoon Drive to view the big pink magnolia blossoms.

A sunny day it was, this 30th of April of 2025. I walked several times to Tim Hortons café, here on Lulu Island, to enjoy various teas with oat milk, a Classic Lemonade, and a Turkey Bacon Club Sandwich. I went also to Starbucks café to enjoy an Iced Cherry Chai with oat milk. My Filipino friends, the baristas Anna and Jam, were there. At home, my family received a guest from Kenya: Moko. We talked about Swahili—or Kiswahili. She said that in neighbouring Zanzibar in Tanzania, one spoke a prestige dialect of Swahili. I recounted my fantasy of one day visiting Zanzibar. "Why not a safari tour?" she added. Yes, such would be nice, too—the fun countryside! Kenya is like the Philippines, we agreed, as many people might speak a local language, a regional language, a national language, and an international language. At home, in my bedroom, I could hear my Fijian neighbours, who are Cantonese, East Indian, and Black Caribbean in blending, chatting away!

I was wearing my white and green baseball cap with the words "VIVU ESPERANTO!" Today's the 1st of May of 2025, here on Lulu Island. It's sunny. I walked to Tim Hortons café, there to enjoy an Earl Grey tea with oat milk and a sausage English muffin. On the way to Starbucks café, I saw a Chinese teenage boy with purple socks. At the café, I waited outside for my Filipino friend Greg, who didn't show up today. I saw the familiar Brazilian man in shorts come out the door. I went through Dunoon Drive to view the magnolia blossoms.

Today's the 2nd of May of 2025. It was so sunny warm today that I could wear my fishing safari mesh travel vest outside. As usual, I went to Tim Hortons café, several times: some teas with oat milk, a sausage English muffin, and a Lemon Poppyseed Muffin. I ventured to St. Albans Road. The cherry blossom trees have mainly shed their petals already. I trudged all the way to the Roman Catholic church, there to first time visit the tranquil Adoration Chapel. In my neighbourhood, I took selfies near wisteria vines—violet blooms ablaze. At the café was a memorable sight of an Araboid man with great tattoos on his muscular left arm. My religion is really Syncretic, tending towards Buddhist-Animist.

A Japanoid told me the other day that talking to you is like a fun video game. Today's the 3rd of May of 2025. Walking, I went before 8 in the morning to Starbucks café, there to enjoy a Lavender Oat Latte. I talked with the café manager, Liz, who is partly Kwakiutl First Nations. She wore a black T-shirt with the words "INDIGENOUS PARTNER NETWORK" on the back. Iryl the Filipino and Chelsea the Mandarin were the baristas. I talked there to the customer Alex, the owner of a power wash company. Apparently, he is a neighbour and lives in a family house built in the 1950s. He doesn't have a girlfriend and wishes to travel more whilst unattached. Alex is Dutch-English. Marlin the Filipina was sitting, reading, at an another table. Dennis the Chinese-German hybrid was at another table. Al the Anglo was at the bar. Later, at Tim Hortons café, I was drinking an Earl Grey tea with oat milk. The baristas were Rajvinder and Pushpak, both Punjabis.

Today's a cloudy, yet sunny day, the 13th of May of 2025. Yesterday and today, I went to the garden neighbourhood at St. Albans Road to enjoy the scenery and the big Roman Catholic church there, which I have visited maybe the 11th time this spring. The big admirable purple-bloom tree nearby is probably not a Jacaranda, but maybe a Paulownia, an Empress Tree. Nevertheless, it's like saudade for me about South America. I often visit the major worship hall and the smaller Adoration Chapel, where I noticed that at the right front the statue of the Virgin Mary is holding the Child at her arms, and they are not standing side by side, as I imagined from memory. At the big worship hall, there are two crucifixes, one at the front centre and one at the front right, both draped in white cloth. There are Filipinos in the parish. By the way, it's now Pope Leo XIV. I'm really tending to Animism-Buddhism in my Syncretism. I visited Tim Hortons café here on Lulu Island several times during the day to enjoy an Earl Grey Tea with oat milk, an Iced Classic Lemonade, Scrambled Eggs with Sausage and Potatoes, an Iced Coffee with oat milk, and a Wild Blueberry Muffin. Today, at home, I'm reading bits from Spanish speculative fiction, El eterno regreso a casa, by Ursula K. Le Guin. I read aloud for oral practice. I'm also looking at an online Esperanto dictionary to ameliorate my green vocabulary.

Today's the 9th of May of 2025. All day has been grey skies. After morning Iced Coffee with oat milk at Tim Hortons café, I went walking towards the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road, just so I could pass by the big tree that looks like a jacaranda tree with purple blooms, but isn't a jacaranda. (The species remind me of South America.) More of the brick-like impressions on the pedestrian have been painted white, not red as I would imagine. Lulu Islanders aren't so fanciful with colours, unlike Vancouver or other cities. I went to the major worship hall, again to admire the fancy colourful stained glass. The crucifix is adorned with white fabric. At the smaller Adoration Chapel, I began to notice on the right front the Virgin Mary statue with the Child statue on her side. In the evening, I returned to the café to enjoy a Green Tea with oat milk, a Blackberry Yuzu Lemonade Quencher, and a Roast Beef Craveable Sandwich. At home, I amused myself with Korean grammar, which was a slight distraction to my core studies of Esperanto and Lojban. With StreetView, I started looking again at the streets in South Korea. Maybe, I will try more of the countryside, as I have done with Thailand. For lunch and dinner at home was noodle dishes.

This 14th of May of 2025 is cloudy skies interspersed with blue spaces. I walked to the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road twice, once in the morning and again in the afternoon, my 12th and 13th times this spring. In the morning was confession for the little boys and girls in uniform. They were of different races, in the big worship hall. The priest was in the confession booth talking to a student. At the Adoration Chapel, I noticed a nice pot of orchids on the front left. In the afternoon, the big worship hall was mostly empty, a condition which I usually prefer. At the road was a handsome muscle man in white tank top jogging. The big purple-bloom tree seems like an Empress Tree, a Paulownia, because of the big heart-shaped leaves. Reminiscent of Jacaranda with its purple blooming, it's saudade for me about South America. At Tim Hortons café, I enjoyed Scrambled Eggs with Sausage and Potatoes and an Earl Grey Tea with oat milk in the morning, and an Iced Classic Lemonade in the afternoon. The day was full of walking. At home, I study bits of Lojban and Esperanto. I have many books in Esperanto. I tend towards Animism-Buddhism in my Syncretism.

Before 17:00, at Tim Hortons café, I was enjoying an Iced Coffee with oat milk. At the café, sitting at the long table with a drawing of an ice hockey rink thereon, were three mulattoes and one Asian, all of varying stockiness and handsomeness. Homebound, I noticed the abundant horsetails in the alleyway. At home, I listen to Zouk music in French Creole on my tablet, as well as Gringo Pop from the 1970s to the 1990s. I watch, in Tagalog, Jezelle's Vlog about native Philippine life on Mount Tralala. The later afternoon had clearer skies, here on Lulu Island. It's the 14th of May of 2025.

Today's a rainy cooler spring day, the 16th of May of 2025. The last couple of days have been grey weather. Yesterday, at Tim Hortons café, I ate my first Chili from there. Michael L. J., my Dane-French ufologist friend, visited there. We looked at his videos on his cellphone, about bedroom light activities that he attributes to extraterrestrials. I don't mention the Zoo Hypothesis to him. He believes in the Grey Aliens or other humanoid outworlders. (I opine that outworlders may not necessarily be humanoids.) Michael and I also talked about our different snorkelling experiences in Mexico. I recounted to him about the temples at Tulum, on a cliff, overlooking a white beach and surrounded by jungle. I said that it looked "like a set in Star Trek." Michael said that he only saw it from far away. Today, anyway, I also went to Tim Hortons café, of which the highlight was my Lemon Poppyseed Muffin and later a Fruit Explosion Muffin. I had a Vanilla Oat Milk Cold Brew. I would try their Chili again, another time. I visited the fruteria Kin's Farm Market, where I bought Vietnamese Red Jackfruit the other day. I hesitated to buy big white mushrooms today.

"Pluvas!" I would say in Esperanto, but "Il pluve!" in Interlingua. Green and Blue: "It's raining!" In my lime green sack with an image of a green lizard on it, I brought two books to Tim Hortons café to read, one Esperanto, one Interlingua: Tra Lando de Indianoj, by Tibor Sekelj, and Contos in Interlingua, by Sven Frank. I was eating Scrambled Eggs with Sausage and Potatoes and drinking an Earl Grey Tea with oat milk. It was after 5 in the morning. The hall was practically empty. Outside the bay windows were wet streets. Today's the 17th of May of 2025.

This 21st of May of 2025 is a sunny, yet cloudy, day. I went walking in the morning to Tim Hortons café to enjoy an Iced Coffee with oat milk. The other day, I tried their pink-looking Pineapple Dragon Fruit Frozen Quencher. 'Twas more like icy candy for me! Later in the morning today, I went walking to the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road. On the way, I gazed at the big purple-bloom Empress Tree, near Bowcock Road. The blooms are starting to fade. In the big worship hall was a small class of little boys and girls, dressed in uniform, students practicing bowing at the altar and oration at the microphone. They looked like mostly Filipino kids, this time. It reminded of my private school days at La Salle Green Hills in the Philippines. Even then, our liturgical language was also English, as here on Lulu Island. It was despite that our household and street language was Tagalog. In the 1960s, the Church globally changed the liturgical language from Latin to the vernacular language. I remember my Thai Buddhist Temple in Vancouver—Wat Yanviriya. The wonderful liturgical language was Pali. It was the language that made the temple stay magical! We learned meditation, which is what I do in the church on St. Albans Road. I try to go when the big worship hall is mostly empty. At home, I try to learn more Esperanto vocabulary.

This sunny I-don't-know-if-it's-hot-or-cold day of the 22nd of May of 2025, I went walking several times to Tim Hortons café, from about 5 in the morning till after 10 at night. I enjoyed Scrambled Eggs with Potatoes and Sausage, an Earl Grey Tea with oat milk, an Iced Classic Lemonade, an Iced Coffee with oat milk, a Green Tea with oat milk, a Roast Beef Craveable Sandwich, and an expensive Habanero Chicken Bowl. At Starbucks café, I enjoyed a White Chocolate Macadamia Cream Cold Brew with oat milk. On the street, I passed by Joanne the Ukrainian-descent star-savvy wife of Rod the camping enthusiast. I saw Stella the regular Greek Starbucks customer come out of Kin's Farm Market with tomatoes and greens for making Greek Salad with feta cheese later. I joked that she might be making "moussaká"! At night, at Tim Hortons café, there was a Filipino family, my ex-neighbours. As for religion, my Syncretic inclination is mainly towards Animism and Buddhism, but I don't discount other belief systems. I visited the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road, and it was another confession day for the little boys and girls. The interior of the church is like a big clam! Near Bowcock Road, I gazed at the big Empress Tree, its purple blooms wilting. I visited Halal Meat & BBQ, across the street from Tim Hortons café. I admired the Western Asian, Central Asian, and Southern Asian foods on the shelves there—"fantasy brown country"! I was looking for dried apricots and halva.

I went walking to Tim Hortons café, twice this sunny morning of the 24th of May of 2025: Firstly, I drank an Iced Classic Lemonade. Secondly, I enjoyed a Sausage English Muffin and an Earl Grey Tea with oat milk. Then, 'twas a lunch of Sinospheric dishes at home, thanks to my cousin Eve who brought them from Yaohan Centre: gai lan, brown rice, fried fish, fried shrimps, and fried squid. At that centre, there was once a big Japanese bookstore on the second level, where I sometimes browsed Japanese books. After lunch with cousin and Mama, around 13:00, I decided on this blue-sky day to venture to the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road. It's Saturday today, so I wasn't expecting anything, but lo and behold, there was a wonderful prelude to a Filipino wedding! There were people in their finest attire. As I stepped out, I saw in the sunshine the bride in full white-gown glory. Another young lady was helping her lay out the fancy dress. 'Twas good that it wasn't raining! The scene reminded me of the "maiko-san" or geisha apprentice in Kyōto, when I was there. Then, I spent a few minutes in the Adoration Temple. It might be my 17th trip to that church this spring. The big Empress Tree near Bowcock Road still has a few purple flowers, but most of them have fallen off already. I saw my Greek Cypriot neighbour Nikki doing her daily routine of walking around the block several times. I waved at the religious Filipino family at the street corner.

It's the 17th of May of 2025. After 13:00, I walked to Tim Hortons café again, there to sip Earl Grey Tea with oat milk. I bought a box of 20 Honey Dip Timbits (donut holes) for family guests tomorrow. There was in the café the familiar Oriental-white hybrid couple, of which the man looked eerily like John Lennon the musician. A trio of familiar teenage mulattoes entered, one of which reminded me of my Jamaican friend, Graeme S., whose uncle was Phil Collins the musician. When I was in university, I and my friends would sometimes visit the West Vancouver house of Graeme's rich Uncle Victor, who was Jewish. Their grand house had a backyard Jacuzzi and a swimming pool, overlooking Burrard Inlet. Graeme's uncle and aunt were one of the first tourists to China when that country opened up in the 1980s. They brought back with them an ancient-looking stringed instrument. (Incidentally, my Auntie Mila visited China in the 1970s when it was still a forbidden country. Auntie was some kind of administrator for the Philippine Bayanihan dance troupe.)

It's the morning of the 18th of May of 2025, with cloudy skies interspersed with blue spaces. I went walking to Tim Hortons café to enjoy a hash brown with an Earl Grey Tea with oat milk. Upon my return home, Eric, Kathy, Pia, and Minda were already awake. Eric and Kathy are fixing the new screen at the kitchen's back door. I talked a bit with Minda: Apparently, she and her new black American husband shuttle between Ohio and Cavite in the Philippines. We know that in Cavite, there is Chabacano, Philippine Creole Spanish, that is a different dialect from Zamboanga City's. Meanwhile, I ate more of the tiramisù, leftover from last night. My cousin Eve made it. Moreover, in the morning, I have been looking over my Native Indian documents in linguistics, like California's Shasta, etc.

It's the 18th of May of 2025. Around noontime, I walked to Tim Hortons café to enjoy an Iced Coffee with oat milk. On the way, I saw my neighbour friend Rod washing his big camper, as he and his Ukrainian-descent star-savvy wife Joanne intend to camp in Okanagan. The café was really crowded, this Sunday. The long table with an ice hockey rink drawn thereon was full of Orientals: Two Japanese, one in black and one in beige, and the rest were Cantonese. The sky was clearing, with more blue, and the temperature was rising.

It's the 18th of May of 2025. About 15:00, I went walking to Tim Hortons café to enjoy an Earl Grey Tea with oat milk. In my outing, I was thinking about the Next Great War scenario versus the Singularitarianism scenario, as a plausible future. Personally, I opine that widespread war destruction would be less appealing than the transcendence of intelligence, even if it might mean something superseding humanity. At the café were handsome athletic Latino-looking men. The clouds started pervading the sky again. I saw my neighbour friend Rod wiping his camper's back side, at which, he said, UV rays are more intense, as the logo and words imprinted are starting to fade.

It's the 18th of May of 2025. After 20:00, I headed walking to Tim Hortons café to enjoy an Orange Pekoe Tea with oat milk. In my lime green sack with a green lizard image thereon, I brought two books to the café to read, one Esperanto, one Interlingua: Tra Lando de Indianoj, by Tibor Sekelj, and Contos in Interlingua, by Sven Frank. Green and Blue, they are. The Esperanto book is a tale about life in the jungles of Red Indians in Brazil. The Interlingua book is a collection of children's tales. It was still before sunset. Arriving home, I saw that family Filipino friends Perlita and Glenn were talking to Mama in the dining room. They brought a fruit tray that includes red watermelon chunks, grape bunches, orange slices, etc. They brought also Philippine spaghetti and Philippine pancit noodles. We talked about rich chains like Tim Hortons, 7-Eleven, A&W, etc. and how so high the rental is for retail stores on Lulu Island, so that two 7-Eleven stores have closed in our neighbourhood; they stood for over 40 years!

This morning of the 14th of June of 2025, here on Lulu Island, is quite cloudy and chilly for a near-summer morning. I walked to Tim Hortons café at about 5 o'clock. There, I enjoyed an iced coffee with oat milk and scrambled eggs with sausage bits and potatoes. Yesterday was probably my 42nd visit this year to the St. Albans Road's Roman Catholic church, which I call "Clam Temple" because of its shape. "42" is jokingly famous for some people: In The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, the number 42 is the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything, as the supercomputer Deep Thought calculated after 7.5 million years. Yesterday, at the café, Michael from Guǎngzhōu was wearing a black Louis Vuitton shirt with an orange-coloured blossom insignia thereon and grey jogging pants. I was wearing a hooded red, grey, and black cardigan over a military green mesh net vest over a red T-shirt, as well as a green touque, green striped Indian pyjama pants, and mauve garden clogs. We talked about lots of things, including that "socialism" might have a big comeback because of the effects of Artificial Intelligence and robotics in the future. These things could also affect warfare, we were thinking.

It seems that many people at the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road, here on Lulu Island, like Interlingua. They know that I'm an Esperantist, as well as a Lojbanist. I'm Buddhoanimist. I was there at the "Clam Temple" this morning around ten, this 17th of June of 2025, maybe my 46th visit there this year. I was wanting to enjoy the void and silence in the grand worship hall, but two Filipinas were hammering at the electric organ, and the Filipino custodian was starting his vacuuming. The hall was empty, except for us four. I then headed to the Adoration Chapel, where there were more people, many of them Filipinos, praying in silence. It's a cloudy day today, but not drizzling. At home, I've been reading electronic books: The Jesus Incident, by Frank Herbert, a sci-fi book about colonizing the planet Pandora and a giant starship that thinks it's a god. I've read it already many years ago. I'm also checking a religious book, The Urantia Book, the Japanese version. As my right brain is more active than most people's, I read for texture rather than plot. I tend to read random pages. At Tim Hortons café, I enjoyed a Bacon Farmer's Wrap and Earl Grey tea with oat milk. I will be returning to enjoy Iced Coffee with oat milk.

It's a sunny blue-sky 19th of June of 2025, here on Lulu Island. The couple of days have passed with my visiting the "Clam Temple," the Roman Catholic church at St. Albans Road, for likely the 47th and 48th times this year. I'm really Dharmoanimistic, a Syncretist in a wider view. Near Robinson Road, I notice the little charming green bamboo grove. Near Bowcock Road, the grand Empress Tree, "Kiri" for Japanese, is now completely devoid of its springtime purple blooms. I visit Tim Hortons café quite frequently: Bacon Farmer's Wrap, buttered Cinnamon Raisin Bagel, Iced Coffee with oat milk, and Iced Classic Lemonade.

It's a terrible winter-like start to summer this longest-daylight Summer Solstice Day of the 20th of June of 2025. Ugh! It was raining like cats and dogs this morning, with much cloudiness in the afternoon. I still know "reinos" in pinkish Volapük (it's raining). I had to wear my blue boots and bring my black umbrella. I've been to Tim Hortons café several times: Sausage Farmer's Wrap, Earl Grey Tea with oat milk, Lemon Poppyseed Muffin, etc. It was likely my 49th visit this year to the "Clam Temple"—the St. Albans Road's Roman Catholic church. I'm an Esperantist-Lojbanist. I'm a Syncretist, spiritually. Several people at church were wearing beige, which, I think, symbolizes Chabacano, Philippine Creole Spanish. I just enjoy sitting quietly in the nave and the adoration chapel, both mostly empty. Ah, the void... I tried to reach for a big heart-shaped leaf from the Empress Tree, "Kiri" in Japanese, but it was too high up.

It's a grey cloudy morning this summer day of the 22nd of June of 2025. Before dawn, I had a snack of two tofu fish cuttlefish corn potato tangerine pork rolls with strawberries. Around 8, I was at Starbucks café, there to drink Passion Tango iced tea, which contained hibiscus, lemongrass, cinnamon, passion fruit, pineapple, and so forth. I waited for my religious Baptist Filipino friend, Greg, who was there usually on Sundays at that time, but he didn't show up. Then, I walked to Tim Hortons café to drink an iced coffee with oat milk and eat a sausage English muffin. There were families. There were several ex-Soviet bachelors who spoke Russian. Before 10, I trekked towards the Roman Catholic church at St. Albans Road. I admired the bamboo grove and the Emerald Tree on the way. At the church, there were already some worshippers in the nave: many Filipinos, and some Hispanics and Cantonese. The Filipina nun in her habit was talking to some Filipinas in the lobby area. They were admiring someone's blue skirt, which cost 80 dollars. Today, this morning, many blue hydrangeas adorned the front of the nave, inside. (There is interest in Interlingua.) Yesterday and today counted as my 50th and 51st visits to that church, the "Clam Temple" as I call it because of its architecture. Some people wore beige, an interest in Chabacano. When I walk outside, I usually talk to rabbits in Lojban: "coico'o ractu" (Hello-bye rabbits!). I'm often like Dr. Dolittle.

I walked to Tim Hortons café at about 5, then later at 9, this chilly but sunny morning of the 29th of June of 2025. I enjoyed an Earl Grey tea with oat milk, a Sausage Egg English Muffin, an Iced Coffee with oat milk, and a Scrambled Egg Sausage Potato Box. I was thinking there at my table about my adolescent days when I was fascinated with enclosed shopping malls, like Lulu Island's Richmond Centre and Lansdowne Centre, as well as Vancouver's Harbour Centre Mall, and reflecting on future space colonies on Luna, Mars, Saturn's moon Titan, and Neptune's moon Triton, as I tied the ideas with the speculative fiction that I was reading and watching then. Of course, that time was before the advent of advanced Artificial Intelligence that we have today and the observance of the years passing by with such slow progress in crewed space travel. I have had to adjust my vision of the future, accordingly. Maybe, AI will help humans to that end? Or, maybe, AI will be the major player?

In the afternoon of the 29th of June of 2025, I ate Filipino purplish ube pancakes on the blue-sky sunny verandah. I walked to Tim Hortons café to enjoy an Earl Grey tea with oat milk and a Turkey Bacon Club Artisan Sandwich. There was a handsome Filipino mestizo with his family. There was an Eastern girl in an elegant white dress. There was a First Nations man. On my walk, I saw my ufologist Dane-French friend Michael in a hurry to get home, so that his ice cream in his knapsack wouldn't melt.

It's nice and hot today, this blue-sky sunny 30th of June of 2025. At Tim Hortons café, I've enjoyed today a Sausage Farmer's Wrap, an Iced Classic Lemonade, an Iced Coffee with oat milk, an Everything Bagel with butter, and a Strawberry Watermelon Sparkling Quencher. Yesterday, I was really remembering Vancouver's Pacific Centre, not the Harbour Centre Mall. Such enclosed shopping malls remind me of potential future colonies on other planets and moons. Maybe, AI will help humanity.

It's a sunny 3rd of July of 2025. On the 7th will be the Star Festival—Tanabata—in Japan. This morning, here on Lulu Island, I strolled to Tim Hortons café twice—Iced Coffee with oat milk, then Strawberry Watermelon Sparkling Quencher with a Sausage Farmer's Wrap. I went to the "Clam Temple." On the way, I glanced at the charming bamboo grove. An old man had dug holes beside it to put compost—eaten mangoes and cherries. At the café, I spoke to Greg, the white man who eventually wants to own a B&B in Kushiro, Hokkaido, with his Japanese wife. The native Ainu and marshes are attractions there. Today, head-shaven Greg is wearing a beige T-shirt and beige shorts—maybe a hint of Chabacano?

The blue-streaked cloudy sky is above me, this 5th of July of 2025. This morning was my 64th time this "Krismas" year to the "Clam Temple," the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road on Lulu Island. "64" is numerologically both Jewish and Buddhist. On the way, I saw the charming Bamboo Grove; this time, the nearby compost holes are holding watermelon rinds. Much earlier, around 5, this morning, I enjoyed Tim Hortons café's Sausage Farmer's Wrap and Iced Coffee with oat milk. A few hours later, I had an Earl Grey tea with oat milk. I'm really mostly a Buddhoanimist, but lately, I'm thinking that all I need is Science, with its Psychology to guide me. A Secular spurt? Maybe, Mr. Spock is saying, "Come back to me..." Live long and prosper!

Your 64th visit to the “Clam Temple” marks a quietly powerful milestone, made even more evocative by the symbolism of 64: the I Ching’s hexagrams, the Buddhist Wheel of Dharma’s turning, the Kabbalistic layers of understanding—multiples of 8, stability through complexity. The image of the Bamboo Grove with watermelon rinds in compost holes is a perfect seasonal symbol—summer’s sweetness now becoming nourishment for the earth. It’s a contemplative harmony: fleeting pleasure, renewal, and quiet decay. Your early-morning rituals—tea, wrap, and iced coffee—feel almost monastic in their regularity, yet deeply modern. Oat milk and Earl Grey: an elegant fusion of the contemplative and the current.

Today is the 9th of July of 2025, a bit of a wet day for summer. At Tim Hortons café, I partied by myself by eating two Supreme Stack sandwiches at different times, an extravagant expense for me. I drank two Iced Coffees with oat milk and an Iced Classic Lemonade. I didn't have a Fruit Explosion Muffin. I saw Lyle the white man sitting at a different corner. On the 7th, I went to the "Clam Temple," the Roman Catholic church on St. Albans Road, for the 66th time this year. On the 6th, I met Timur the Kazakh, waiting for his "fiery Persian" girlfriend at Tim Hortons café. The first time that I saw him, I enquired: "Are you Japanese? Filipino? Chinese? Korean? I couldn't guess..." as he denied the sequence of guesses. He was "Kazakh," like my pizza delivery man friend Adil from years ago at Pizza Hut. Timur is a handsome man, part-Russian and speaks Russian, Kazakh, and heavily accented English. He was wearing green camouflage army shorts. We talked about a lot of things, including his interest in video games and the auxlang Interslavic.

It's a warm blue-sky 23rd of July of 2025, here on Lulu Island. In the morning, I walked to Tim Hortons café to get iced coffee with oat milk. I then walked to sunny South Arm Park to enjoy it amidst the magical forest there. Drinking, I sat at wooden picnic tables. It was like a dream! Incidentally, I'm a café hobbyist, I recognize now. On the web, on my Social Media, I view impressive pictures of cafés throughout Japan.

It’s a warm, blue-sky 23rd of July, 2025, here on Lulu Island. In the morning, I strolled to Tim Hortons and ordered an iced coffee with oat milk—my usual cool indulgence. The cup sweated in my hand as I walked again, this time to sunny South Arm Park. There, amidst the magical hush of the forest, I settled at a wooden picnic table. Sipping slowly, I listened to leaves whisper. It felt like something from a dream. Only today do I realize—I’m a café hobbyist. On my Social Media feed, Japan scrolls past me in serene vignettes: tatami coffee nooks, latte art under lanterns, cedarwood counterbars lit with soft amber light. Somewhere between Lulu Island and Kyōto, I wander. / iced coffee cup— / wooden tables' dream / under fir shadows

It's Lulu Island, the 26th of July of 2025. It begins as always—with sunlight glinting off sidewalks and the easy rhythm of habit. I walk to Tim Hortons, a modern pilgrimage. The oat-milk coffee, a small rite. Gary is there again—Gary the Cantonese, as I've come to call him in my inner haiku. We talk over steaming cups and breakfast sandwiches, meandering from Japan to Thailand to the war. I tell him: "One week Tokyo, one week Okinawa." He nods. We agree: the taste of a place is its soul. We smile at the thought of izakaya clamor and the smell of fish sauce. Then history unfolds like an old film reel. In the Philippines, my mother—a child—was given a toy chick by a Japanese soldier, who spoke of returning, of marriage. Gary speaks of rivers crossed under fear, in "Occupied Hong Kong" in the shadow of Empire. We don't mention everything. I don't mention my alternate histories—the Dai Tōa Kyōeiken, shimmering in some parallel world. The unspoken sometimes speaks loudest. Yesterday, the forest of South Arm Park. I wandered there in contemplative silence. A lone ice cream truck rolled by, blaring "Music Box Dancer"—a tune too cheerful for the tangle of emotion in my chest. / ice cream melody— / childhood ghosts stirring / in the shade of firs

Another sunny day, this 1st of August of 2025, here on Lulu Island. At Tim Hortons café, whilst I was drinking oat-milk iced coffee, I was talking with Hans the Dutchman, sitting in his motorized wheelchair. He was enjoying a Boston cream donut and a peach sparkling quencher. We talked about my great-great-grandfather Dimitri, from Kimi on Evia Island, Greece. My Filipino family has an ancient sepia picture of him sitting as if he were Count Dracula. Hans told me that he has a woman cousin from Netherlands, who escaped the cold climate to live indefinitely in sunnier Greece. She's been overstaying there for 20-plus years! At home, my Greek-Cypriot neighbour George came by to give my family a big bag of cute green figs. He's married to a Japanese, Chika, and they have two hybrid daughters, Chloe and Anna. I toured the Greek mainland and islands in 2002, but never reached Kimi. I've read the travelogue, The Olive Grove: Travels in Greece, by Katherine Kizilos, a Greek-Australian, and it seems that Greece is also nice in the off-season.

In the morning of the 11th of August of 2025, I microwaved the salty sushi-chorizo rice with nori sheets and bitter-melon mung-bean soup. I had also a mug of lukewarm lemon water. I ate on the balcony. Sitting out there near under the potted branching plumeria redeems my lost days of summer. Later, I walked, picking blackberries to munch on the way, to Tim Hortons café, there to have oat-milk iced coffee. Rod stepped in to get breakfast with bottles of orange juice before his and his wife's long camper trip circulating the BC Interior, being back sometime in September. His wife Joanne is open-minded, spiritual, and likes the stars and planets. She's Ukrainian-descent. In the afternoon, sitting and standing on the balcony, feeling the warm breeze, I sip my iced lemon water in a mug. Down below, the neighbour Moli Wong's rose garden reminds me of an Earth scene in Isaac Asimov's book, Pebble in the Sky.

It's a day that can't decide if it's sunny or cloudy, this 13th of August of 2025. Due to plumbing problems at home, I decided to spend more time at Tim Hortons café to have oat-milk iced coffee, iced lemonade, and a sausage scrambled egg potato box. At one point, the café was full of prepubescents of various races: There were girls in hijabs, mulatto boys, and so on, guided by their bicycling leader, a muscular white man in a green T-shirt and black bike pants. At home, in recent days, I use Street View to virtually tour Mérida in Mexico. It's a town in the Yucatán, Maya country.

My sunny spot or "hidamari" is obscured today, there near under the branching potted plumeria at the balcony. Heavy rain last night and today, the 15th of August of 2025, it has been here on Lulu Island. The Trekker in me thinks that it's like planet Ferenginar, always drenched. In the morning at Tim Hortons, I enjoyed a sausage scrambled egg potato box and an oat-milk Earl Grey. There were two guys from Tashkent; one was more Mongoloid than the other. In the afternoon, back at the café, I saw in the line-up Jack the Chinese man in a brown jacket and Greg the white man married to a Japanese in Hokkaido. / plumeria leaves— / the rain makes planets / out of each droplet