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This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

Email: icasocot(at)gmail.com

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Wednesday, December 31, 2025

entry arrow11:59 PM | New Year's Eve at Mother's

I made sure I spent some time with mother tonight for New Year’s Eve. She hasn’t been well since her hospitalization more than a week ago, but she’s fine. At least that’s what the doctors say. She’s 93, and tonight she kept asking me the same questions: “What happened to me?” Your blood pressure shot up, it was very high. “Why?” Because you ate a lot of lechon at ___’s party. “Did I collapse?” A bit. “Where?” At home, two days later. “Thank God, it wasn’t at ____’s. What happened next?” You were hospitalized. “I was? Oh dear. Where?” At PolyMedic. “That’s in Sibulan. Why are you here?” Because it's New Year’s Eve. “It’s New Year’s Eve? Wala lagi handa?” We do have handa, there’s some lechon over there. “That’s a small lechon. That’s not real lechon.” Then she proceeds to identify everyone around her. Dennis. Daisy. All her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Also Cypress, Daisy’s sister. She asks about her dearly departed daughter-in-law, Efeb, who died two years ago. When we tell her she is gone, she says, “Sayang.” She asks for a head massage, and complains her food is bland. She enumerates all her sons, asking where they all are, which reads: are they here with me? We tell her Alvin is dead, Rocky can’t walk up the stairs, Edwin is in Switzerland, and Rey is in America. We do this many times. But she knows a lot of other details. Like the name of my nephew Dale’s new girlfriend, and that a cousin is from Kidapawan. But her short term memory is loose. “What happened to me?” she asks again after a few minutes, and I find myself tireless in repeating the same exact things, laughing at some of her silly responses. “Are you staying with me tonight? Please don’t leave me,” she says as we prepare her for early bed time. I won’t, I’ll be here, I lied. Tell her I’m just here, I tell her caretaker Gigi, as I later prepare to come back to the apartment where I live.

Happy New Year, everyone!

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[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



entry arrow7:00 AM | Poetry Wednesday, No. 272.



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Wednesday, December 24, 2025

entry arrow7:00 AM | Poetry Wednesday, No. 271



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Saturday, December 20, 2025

entry arrow10:40 PM | Two Cat Daddied and Their Cat



That’s Orville Wright on my chest, but she actually loves lying on Renz. When we’re home alone, Orville and I, she’s just a normal cat, being a loaf somewhere in my apartment. But when Renz comes over, her ears perk up, and she will do everything to climb on top of him, rubbing her head on him, playing with his clothes, etc. “I think you’re catnip to Orville,” I tell Renz. I’m not puzzled at all why our cat is crazy about him: Renz is lovable every which way.

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Wednesday, December 17, 2025

entry arrow7:00 AM | Poetry Wednesday, No. 270.



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Monday, December 15, 2025

entry arrow9:36 PM | Rob Reiner, 1947-2025



What grim madness! One of my favorite film directors, Rob Reiner, who helmed contemporary classics such as When Harry Met Sally..., The Princess Bride, This is Spinal Tap, Misery, A Few Good Men, and The American President, is dead, a victim of homicide. Apparently murdered together with his wife by their own son. What a week! A shooting in Brown University, a shooting in Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia, and now this. Rest in peace, Mr. Reiner. Thank you for all the movies.

This tweet says a lot about Mr. Reiner's legacy:



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Wednesday, December 10, 2025

entry arrow7:00 AM | Poetry Wednesday, No. 269.



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Monday, December 08, 2025

entry arrow9:30 AM | Seeing Richard Brody Typing on an External Keyboard



I’m watching Marshall Curry’s documentary, The New Yorker at 100, and I see film critic Richard Brody working on an external keyboard because his MacAir keyboard has stopped working. I felt this, hahaha.

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Saturday, December 06, 2025

entry arrow7:00 PM | Reading to Children



To get back on track, I accepted this invitation from Virginia Stack and her Valencia Book Mobile brigade to read my picture book The Great Little Hunter, to a bunch of youngsters, aged 7-10, in Bong-ao, Valencia last Saturday. I had the time of my life! The children were initially shy but they were also curious and interested, and I really do think this is the best age range to get kids to start and love reading, the way I was when I was their age and encountered Henny Penny. This is the thing about Dumaguete becoming a UNESCO City of Literature: it is curious to have this designation now in an age when literacy among children is falling away fast. How can we have a City of Literature when nobody reads anymore? That's a question we are grappling with, and this literacy program is part of our solution. Thank you Tata and your Indefatigable team of teachers and volunteers for making this commitment work!

Here's a video of me reading:


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Wednesday, December 03, 2025

entry arrow7:00 AM | Poetry Wednesday, No. 268.



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