We're nuts for mutts

Gusty winds, ominous clouds, even a little rain couldn't keep our first annual Nuts for Mutts 5K Walkathon from being a big success. The funds we raised were modest for the effort involved, but there's no way to put a price on the fun we had, more than 70 people all walking our dogs up the main boulevard of town and back to the beach, for live music on the beach.

Eight puppies from the San Carlos Canine Refuge were on display in a pen, and at least four were officially adopted before the day was over. Everyone wanted a chance to cuddle a puppy.

One unanticipated bonus: the presence of all those dogs attracted a fellow a number of dog lovers had been trying to capture for years. He's known as Blackie, and when he was a puppy someone tied a wire tightly around his neck, attaching a heavy stone to it. A local doctor's wife had offered a $1000-peso reward for anyone who could catch the elusive Blackie, so the wire can finally be removed, he can get wormed, spayed, vaccinated and rid of parasites. No one had been able to catch him, in spite of his impediment, but today a lanky cowboy named Pepper spotted  Blackie when he showed up curious at the sight of all those dogs, and managed to lasso him. He's unadoptable, but when he's been treated he'll be released back into one of his old haunts, sure to have a better life than before.

No dog fights. No injuries on the walk other than a few blisters. No conflicts with neighbors or police. For one glorious day we showed ourselves that we could indeed all get along. We had decorated the street with red ribbons yesterday, to mark our route and someone came along behind us and pulled them all down, but we just waited until this morning and put up more.

I've been bottle-feeding a litter of four two-week-old orphaned pups for the past few days (above, Bruiser the alpha male and Cleo the runt female). The lack of sleep has me in a bit of a daze, but I had a wonderful time, and when it was all over the Capt and I came home for a long siesta. Now it's all like a sweet dream.

Sunday

I really have not had anything to relate to you guys so I've been quiet. I've been keeping myself at home which really does not give me anything to write about. Weather has been crazy, some days are cold and the next are warm, no wonder everybody is getting sick.

Last week this "Choir Boy" completed his first year as a member of the choir and I can honestly say it has made a big impact in my life. I feel good to be back in church and to be able to serve in this capacity. Really looking forward to the second year. Right now as I type this it's almost time for me to start getting ready to go to church. I have made it a habit to get up early on Sunday and to try to fully wake up by having me my morning cup of coffee while I check for my emails and stuff. My days of rushing to do things are over.

Normally as a treat after mass I get treated to a wonderful meal at my sister's house. What? Me spoiled? Absolutely! :-)

So far I've had a great weekend, both my Friday afternoon and my Saturday morning were most excellent, although my afternoon nap turned out to be a full blown four hour sleep, ha ha what else is new? So I am hoping to close this weekend with a fantastic Sunday, and so far so good.

Well hopefully next week I'll come up with something else to write about but for right now I am just going to wish you all have a fantstic peaceful Sunday hopefuly full of family companionship.

The vocation of a soldier

“The great French preacher Lacordaire once said the vocation of a soldier is next in dignity to the priesthood, not only because it conditioned him to defend justice on the field of battle and order on the field of peace, but also because it called him to the spirit and intention of sacrifice.” – Ven. Abp. Fulton J. Sheen

I’m already there!

 

I have reached an end and a beginning.

I am ready, Abba, to accomplish my mission.

Take me there and bring me back wholly.

Stay with my beloved ones and keep them safe and whole.

Allow me to feel again my wife’s sweet embrace

My children’s love

My grandchildren’s hugs and kisses

My doggies joyful barks;

But if you were to call me to your side,

Help me to accept your will joyfully

And always proclaim before you

That your most high, sovereign will be done 

in the heavens and on earth.

Sub tuum praesidium confugimus, Sancta Dei Genitrix.

Nostras deprecationes ne despicias in necessitatibus nostris,

sed a periculis cunctis libera nos semper,

Virgo gloriosa et benedicta.

Miles out of the comfort zone

It all started when one person formerly involved with our Canine Refuge (where I volunteer) came up with the bright idea of putting on a 5K walk as a fundraiser. I've only even participated in a walk once myself, and have no notion of what is involved in organizing one, not to speak of making money with one. Did I mention that I've somehow been annointed the fundraising chairman for this organization? This is so far out of my comfort zone, I don't know if I'll ever get back.

So here we are, a week from the event, scrambling to get things done. We've had a couple of meetings and some issues have been resolved, but there are dozens more. Did I mention that dogs are coming along on this walk? It's a noncompetitive 5K dog stroll down the main boulevard of town and back, followed by live music, silly dog contests (longest ears?) and—most important—several of our Refuge dogs will be there, sporting Adopt Me vests. I'm praying for a good turnout, an adoption or two, and no dogfights.

The Refuge kennels are full to capacity, with 20 dogs, 14 of them puppies. We visited the dog pound in Guaymas last week and there were two litters of pups in line to be euthanized. Beautiful, bright and, except for two, very healthy. We took them all back to the Refuge, including the two that appeared to have health problems but now seem to be getting better with supplemental feedings. We have no plans to rescue every litter that ends up at the pound. But there we were, there they were with one day left to live, and we couldn't walk out without them. And there are another 20 puppies being fostered here in town, but destined to wind up with us once they've been weaned.

W're calling this event the San Carlos Nuts for Mutts 5K Walk. I'd like to say we have a dandy website to promote it, but our webmaster seems to have endless excuses in spite of the fact that he's being paid to do it. This is particularly annoying since I could have done it myself, using Weebly, as I did for the cooking club. Took me one afternoon to get it online.

I had adopted a puppy myself, which I named Daisy, but plans have changed. The young woman who had fostered Daisy before I took her home emailed me a few days later telling me that if I ever changed my mind, Daisy could come back and would have a permanent home with her. By then my other dog Chica had made it abundantly clear she wasn't happy with the new addition to the family by getting on our bed and peeing on the down comforter, and I was beginning to get seriously stressed. So I emailed G. back and said, "Take her, she's yours." I chalk it all up to my first experience fostering and bonding with puppies, and now I remind myself that I can't keep them all. At present I'm particularly attached to a fuzzy black male named Bear. And so it goes.

Innocence

Fr. Ananias  Buccicone, OSB  converses with my grandson, Victor, about the merits of the latter’s toy car, after yesterday’s celebration of the Holy Mass, usus antiquor, that we attended. In turn, Fr. Ananias projects an impacting figure upon my grandson, who wonders why the good priest resembles a rabbi or if he is related at all to Santa Claus.

Support LifeSiteNews!

Brethren, y’all probably know about this already, but I wanted to have my say. This, according to LifeSiteNews:

It is with great concern that we have to inform our readers that LifeSiteNews (LSN) Canada has been hit with a lawsuit – by a Catholic priest of all things!

Regular readers of LSN will need no introduction to Fr. Raymond Gravel – he’s the Quebec priest and former Member of Canada’s Parliament who stated on a radio interview in 2004: “I am pro-choice and there is not a bishop on earth that will prevent me from receiving Communion, not even the Pope.”

Then, in 2008, he defended the awarding of Canada’s highest civilian award to the country’s ‘father of abortion’ – arch-abortionist Henry Morgentaler! During his political career he was rated as ‘pro-abortion’ by the political arm of the pro-life movement. He has also repeatedly and publicly criticized his church’s teachings on homosexuality and abortion.

Even though LifeSiteNews reports have overwhelmingly reported on what Fr. Gravel himself has publicly said, he is suing us for libel. Among other things, he argues that he isn’t pro-abortion, but he has said in the past that he is “pro-choice.”

He’s demanding $500,000 in damages – which, coincidentally, is a full year’s budget for us. That would put LifeSiteNews out of business!

Will you stand with us at this time as we fight this lawsuit?

U.S. and International donors click here to donate

Canadian donors click here to donate

…

The very fact that Fr. Gravel feels he has to sue LSN is proof-positive of just how much LSN is needed. Writing about LifeSiteNews.com in Le Devoir on April 20, 2009, Fr. Gravel said that when his bishop received a letter from the Vatican “which forced me to retire from political life,” attached to the letter “was a file almost exclusively in English made up of negative comments about me … which came from those ultra-conservative media.” He even complained about LifeSiteNews during a speech on the floor of the House of Commons!

And then, more recently, Fr. Gravel was removed from a position as a chief catechist for his diocese. In his motion Fr. Gravel suggests that the articles by LSN caused him to lose this responsibility.

Despite the fact that LSN has made it clear that we wish no harm to Fr. Gravel, and that, in fact, we are concerned for his wellbeing, he has launched a suit that could severely, even permanently disrupt our life- and culture-saving work.

Already our staff have had to dedicate several full days’ work just to responding to his charges – and that’s before the case has even really begun.  The first preliminary hearing is this Thursday in Joliette, Quebec.

While the amazing Thomas More Society of Chicago has offered to help us in this case, there is only so much they can do. The case will have to be fought in the Quebec courts, and the Thomas More Society is a U.S.-based organization.

Thus, we have been forced to hire professional Canadian legal help. And as anyone who knows the first thing about lawsuits knows, legal fees can mount…fast.

At this difficult time, we must once again turn to our ever-faithful supporters. The only way we can withstand this attack is with your help.

We are confident about the truthfulness and professionalism of our reporting on this matter and are determined to fight and win against this unjust lawsuit. Will you join us?

Will you also appeal to others that you know to help us at this time of extra special need?

Commentary. Fr. Gravel’s actions are obscene. And historically, he doesn’t take kindly to criticism either. So don’t even bother writing to the man.

The word “ersatz” again comes to mind, as in “I am tired of these ersatz priests and the do-nothing superiors who inflict him on the rest of us. Please, write Fr. Gravel’s bishop and respectfully ask him, en Français, s’il vous plaît , to wear his mitre squarely and grab his staff firmly, and bring the appropriate discipline to bear on this man who has so dishonored his priesthood and given scandal to the faithful: this is the bishop’s address:

Most Rev. Gilles Lussier (Gravel's bishop)
Bishop of Joliette
2, rue Saint-Charles-Borromée Nord
C.P. 470
Joliette, Québec J6E 6H6
Tel: (450) 753-7596
Fax: (450) 759-0929
E-mail: chancel@diocesedejoliette.org

I leave you with this further commentary by Michael Voris. And remember, let us pray for all our priests, including Fr. Raymond Gravel, who are all the main target of diabolical attack. Some succumb, some recover and re-convert, and some heroically resist. We can’t afford to lose any.

Please, don’t forget to support LifeSiteNews any way you can.

Jesus Loves His Mother

(Repost, Retitled)

Brethren: please study the following picture:

Now, please, consider this: there are three stories behind this picture. The first one is the story that the actors and director who put this remarkable scene together wanted to convey in the highly acclaimed movie picture, The Passion of the Christ. The second is how I "stumbled" upon this scene and captured it, and the last one—and the most important one—is the story of the love that a real Son had for his real Mother.

The First Story

The scene is straightforward: in a "flashback" scene shortly after his arrest, Jesus (played by actor James Caviezel) reminisces on, shall we say, "better times" at his carpenter's shop. He's building what's recognizably a modern table.

Modern viewers do not see anything remarkable about this until Mary, Jesus' Mother (played by Romanian actress Maia Morgerstern) enters the scene and questions the design. Jesus replies that the table is destined for a wealthy customer. Mary remarks that the customer must like to eat "standing up." Jesus replies that he's about to make the chairs that go with the table and then demonstrates how the whole concept is supposed to work, by sitting down on an imaginary chair by the table. Mary attempts to do the same but then loses her balance, remarking wryly that the design "will never catch on."

The viewer then realizes that Jews of the time consumed their meals while reclining on the ground, that a modern table was completely atypical in that setting. The scene captured 2,000 years of separation in space and time between us and the Lord's own time, at the same time, thoroughly humanizing both Jesus and his Mother, Mary.

What followed was endearing. Mother Mary sternly told Jesus to come inside to eat, to take off his apron and to wash his hands, to which he dutifully assented. As Mother poured water on his hands, He rinsed his hands, cupped his hands, caught a bit of water, and then playfully splashed her. She recoiled, surprised and in obvious pleasure. Then He embraced her, pulled her to himself, and kissed her.

The scene ends with a return to the present: Jesus coming back to his current situation. Shortly thereafter, as He was being led to his fateful meeting with the Sanhedrin, He sees His Mother, their eyes made contact, and as He lingered on the sight of his Mother, He was roughly pushed away.

The Second Story

I gave myself for Christmas a DVD recorder-player for my computer. I figured that I was in need of massive external storage space. I then began experimenting with the movie-playing capabilities of the new DVD drive and I rediscovered that such DVD software would allow the user to take "still pictures" of whatever movie was playing, and I happened to be playing The Passion of the Christ. So, I continued on watching the movie until I got to this scene—one of my favorites in the entire movie. Funny, I didn't remember the kiss, so I played the scene over and over until I got the "right angle" and this picture is the result.

The Third Story

The third story is the historical one, the one that encloses a theological lesson of immediate importance to every Christian believer: that there was a Jesus of Nazareth who was the unique Song of God and the unique Son of Mary; whose followers considered Him the awaited Jewish Messiah and King and also God's supreme self-manifestation in history. There was also a Mary of Nazareth whose unconditional "yes" to God started this singular adventure of the spirit, and who had been present at every important scene of Salvation's drama: at its beginning, at its high point, at its closing, and at its new beginning.

This placement of Blessed Mary in the Gospel clearly underlines her eschatological significance, that her historical role as Mother of the Messiah—and the Jews believed then as they do now that the Messiah's Mother would participate somehow in the glory of her Son—did not end when the number of her days on earth came to an end. Just as Jesus' sonship to Mary continued after His resurrection and glorification, Mary's motherhood transcended history and continued after her Son resurrected and glorified her. Her motherhood extended itself to every Christian who clung to the saving deeds and the Love of the Son.

The biblical figure of Mary forms the basis of the Catholic devotion to Her, but as far as most Protestant Christians are concerned, it is a figure that has been lost, that should only be understood in merely natural terms. Many Catholics today—most of them in academia—are also inclined to see her in this way. This is wrong.

This picture taken from The Passion of the Christ, this artistic representation, demonstrates a profound theological and christological Truth. Jesus loved his Mother. Sure, why shouldn't He, she was his Mom! Surely Jesus was capable of natural, filial love. But, can the Son of God love His earthly Mother only with a merely natural, human love? Because He was not only fully Man, but also fully God hypostatically united in one Person, every human act of Jesus was also a divine act; as Jesus did, God did.

Therefore, the uniquely natural, filial love Jesus felt for his Mother was at the same time uniquely and infinitely supernatural. The miracle of the Son's love for his Mother is not that He loves Her as God would love any human being, but that He loves her as a Son would truly love his Mother! Is the same Love, but infinitely and inexhaustibly given, and felt; it's perfect human love transposed to an infinite, divine key.

The Son loves his Mother. There was no other person on earth that He loved with such filial love and yet, beyond the sense of the finitely human, lays the same filial Love. There was no one else on earth that he would embrace and kiss this way.

So, let me refocus what I've said above, when I stated that the biblical figure of Mary forms the basis of the Catholic devotion to Her, by stating that it is the Son's love for His Mother that forms the basis for the Catholic devotion to Her. All of us Christians are called to love her as the Son loves her, in the present tense. As we participate in the Son's Divine Life, into his Death and Resurrection, through Baptism in Water and the Spirit, we also become spiritual children of his Blessed Mother by the same grace of adoption that made us children of God. That's why we can call God "Father" and Mary "Mother."

Protestant Christians—mostly in the Reformed tradition— and a number of carnal Catholics who deny Mary's Motherhood ignore the clear sense of the Scriptures and the filial love with which early Christians regarded the Mother of Jesus, because of the supernatural love that He showed Her.

This picture is worth a thousand words. As He did, so must we. He loves Her, so must we. She is his Mother even now, and she is our Mother too. My challenge to you is: dare to love her.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz!

I Was Robbed!

So, the alarm clock (a.k.a. my cell phone) goes off as it does Monday through Friday exactly at 5:20 a.m., but as always I snooze the little sucker once or twice before I finally get up. When I finally opened my eyes again I glanced at the cable box for the time and I decided it was time to get up and shower.

I took my time getting ready, headed for the kitchen, prepared me a coffee, and finished getting dressed. Glanced at the cable box again and was proud at how well I was doing with my time. I should be hitting the road soon and hopefully will be at work on time.

I even sat for a little bit watching the news then went to brush my teeth, that's when my eye caught something that should not be there. As I looked out the window I saw light as in daylight. Daylight? I can't be seeing daylight, most of my commute is when it's still dark so why is there daylight?

I go to the cable box again and look at the time. It now shows 6:55 a.m. SIX FIFTY FIVE!!! What the heck? I go in to work at 7:00 a.m. Somehow my snooze lasted exactly an hour because my mind registered that I was on time by looking at the minute side of the clock but never caught on that it was already an hour late.

Needless to say I was late to work but not too bad as I only came in late 35 minutes.

OK, this happened yesterday not today. So, this morning my alarm clock (a.k.a. my cell phone) went off and I got up, hit the shower, got dressed, made me a coffee, hit the road and was in to work at 6:30 a.m.

Ha, ha, ha, what a difference it makes to not snooze.

Busy Day!

A day of writing my will, power of attorneys, final instructions and the like, prior to my impending mobilization. Joy...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Bzzzzzzzzz!

Oh hell no! You did not just come in uninvited did you? Of course you did. You can just turn around and go out exactly the same way you came in. EXCUSE ME! Are you deaf? I said get the heck out and I mean NOW!!!

"Bzzzzzzzzzzz First let me walk up and down this here pillar and survey your window. OK I"m done but let me do it again... and again... and again." I could have sworn the bee was saying that to me.

You can just imagine how I felt sharing my personal space with a huge bee going 65 miles per hour down the freeway and having it about half a foot from my head and face. It really was too close for comfort and although I believe that if you don't bother it, it won't bother you I was just freaking out. What to do? What to do?

I remember I had my jacket in the back seat so in a swift move which my Mustang is capable of such moves I veered to the shoulder stopped, put it on neutral, set my parking brake, lowered the windows, and attempted to scare it with my jacket.

Oh crap, I totally missed and now it's going to be very mad at me. Get out I said, while trying to swat it with my jacket and all of a sudden out the window she goes. You had never seen two windows go up so fast and a car merged into traffic the way I did it.

The whole ordeal lasted about 5 minutes but might as well have been an eternity. Bees are definitely NOT welcomed as co-pilots.

“Men of the West!”

"Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends, and break all bonds of fellowship; but it is not this day! An hour of woe, and shattered shields, when the Age of Men comes crashing down; but it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!" Lord of the Rings – The Return of the King

Decisions

“When a decision has to be made, make it. There is no totally right time for anything.”
~ George Patton

Sometimes it is hard to make a big decision and one struggles with it's execution for longer than it is necessary but at the end of the day one hopes that once taken you'll know that it was necessary and wise to do so.

I never speak or write about work here but last week on Monday morning we were greeted by the type of news that one as an employee or manager never wants to hear. I've been working for the same company a little over 20 years and our previous owner prided himself in having a no layoffs policy, now things are a little bit different as the owner sold his company and retired. Good for him I say, but bad for some.

Unfortunately Monday the 7th was a bad day for 8 of our support group co-workers, 2 managers, and about ten Account Executives. My department suffered a loss as two of my employees were part of this decision. It was a top down decision and I was just as surprised as everybody else. Needless to say the mood as been a little on the gray side.

At one point in life we all must make such heavy weight decisions and do them in such a way that a the end of the day you can go to bed at night and think that every other alternative was considered and that the outmost respect and compassion was taken into consideration and that there really was no other way around it.

So, as the sun still rises everyday I realize life goes on and we must move on.

Worthy is the Lamb!

Worthy is the Lamb that was slain
to receive power and riches,
wisdom and strength,
honor and glory and praise.

Revelation 4:12

Video: The Gates of Hell

Brethren: Good Teaching.

Frank Schaeffer: “We Need Freedom From Religion Not Just Freedom of Religion”

Brethren, Frank Schaeffer, former Eastern Orthodox and son of famed Evangelical theologian Francis Schaeffer, wrote another hateful piece at the HuffPo that I replied to as follows:

I can't believe how deep have you fallen, and how much is ventral hatred what drives you. I pity you.

Be that as it may be, I will not allow you, nor the likes of you tell me, how, where, and when I'm to bring my Christian faith to bear in the public arena. No way, no how, will I allow you nor the nanny state to dictate what I am to teach to my children.

I will oppose you with all good, legitimate ways at my disposal, starting with prayer, for your soul as well as mine. And may your father intercede for you in heaven, where he contemplat­es the Beatific Vision you have repudiated­.

Deverts casting aspersions are all the rage nowadays. Anne Rice did it and now is Mr. Schaeffer’s turn, a man I used to admire and respect. Now they both serve the spirit of Antichrist.

Now more than ever, we must pray, for them, for us, and for the world.

• Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

Haiku to Spring

The wind a'blowing
The warmth of spring a'bringing
Lent and Easter Tide

“You Shall Not Pass”

Brethren, this is my favorite scene in The Lord of the Rings: Gandalf stopping the Balrog at the bridge:

You Shall Not Pass!

It is, I think, a metaphor for the Christian life and our struggle with evil, and confronting one’s fears and weaknesses as we do so.

Gandalf fell with the ancient demon into The Shadow and wrestled him for three days and nights…and then he died. And came back to life.

Bravo for J.R. Tolkien! No wonder he was a Catholic writer.

That went well, I thought...

The show Wednesday night went better than expected, with a full house and waiters bringing even more tables out for the people who kept coming.  I didn't need to worry about what to wear, it was a chilly evening and I was wrapped in a warm rebozo.

A video will be sent to us soon, which I hope to be able to upload here.

"...music is about as physical as it gets: your essential rhythm is your heartbeat; your essential sound, the breath. We're walking temples of noise, and when you add tender hearts to this mix, it somehow lets us meet in places we couldn't get to any other way."
— Anne Lamott

Jessica's Arrival to Phoenix.

I received an impromptu invitation from my favorite sister-in-law to go pick up my niece Jessica to the airport with the promise that there would be a good chance of some photo ops. Now, how can one refuse to that? Jessica, whom everybody knows is a princess to me, of course I was happy to tag along. Besides I didn't know if Kika knew the airport as good as I do. lol Just had to say that.

So I waited a while and Kika eventually picked me up late I may add. So off we went to the airport where a very frightened girl waited for us. She told us she was by baggage claim so we parked and too the elevators all the way down to the baggage area and within minutes found her. She was on the verge of tears as this was her maiden flight and she felt lost.

Came to find out that they were late taking her to Ontario so she made it in the right flight but her luggage had to wait for the next departure. I found out the next flight would be in at 3:00 and that luggage would be out by 3:20. It was actually close to 3:30 when she finally got her suitcase.

So, due to this the photo ops had to wait as my sister-in-law left the pozzole cooking on the stove, but at least we went up to the restaurant area and ate some (yes, you guessed it) tacos to kill the hour and a half we needed to wait.

Now she is finally here and will be here for the whole week. So, have a fantastic time my princess and welcome to Phoenix.

New Year's Day - Santa Monica Beach

This is probably a land mark. The Santa Monica Pier Carousel.
So it's about a month and a week overdue but here it is. This is my New Year's Day outing to Santa Monica Beach in California. I totally expected the weather to be uncooperative but to my surprise we had a nice warm sunny day with nothing but clear skies. The morning was a little chilly but by 1:00 all we needed was a sweater and lots of "ganas" to walk down the beach.

Lots of walking we did on those pathways along the beach.
I had not been to Santa Monica in well over 25 years so it felt like it was all new to me. The pier is actually a nice place to spend a Sunday afternoon, and if you have some moulla to spend (which we did not) then it's even better. The only thing familiar to me was The Carousel and it's building, everything else was new.



Scenes from Santa Monica, California.
Lots of photo ops for a camera junkie like me. The ocean, the beach line, the pier, the rides, the sunset, and best of all the people walking around there and the ones displaying their talents for a few coins. It was all good and we definetely had a great time.




I so want to go in the summer and ride my bike from Santa Monica to Venice Beach and back. Spend a whole Sunday there watching all the side shows and seeing all these talented people do and display their stuff. I think maybe I will go this summer and do this.



In the meantime I hope you enjoy these images from that day.

Is it too late to say HAPPY NEW YEAR? :-)

Food for thought

Do to no one what you yourself dislike. Give to the hungry some of your bread, and to the naked some of your clothing. Seek counsel from every wise man. At all times bless the Lord God, and ask him to make all your paths straight and to grant success to all your endeavors and plans. - Tobit 4:15a. 16a. 18a. 19

Faking it 'til we make it

It's been said (I forget by whom) that as we grow older we begin to give a lot of thought to the Hereafter. Mainly because often when we enter a room, we stand there wondering, "Now what am I here after?"

The biggest challenge I face as a singer is remembering lyrics. I've probably spent too much time with a music stand in front of me, comfortably reading along as I sing. I've even done it onstage, more times than I'd like to admit. At the root of this terrible habit is a basic distrust of my own memory. And the result is a loss of contact with the audience and with the true meaning of the song.

Tonight the Capt and I are performing together for the first time in more than two years, at a concert to benefit an orphanage in Empalme. It'll be outdoors on a green overlooking the beach, with four other groups doing everything from old rock songs to Mexican favorites. We'll do the token jazz and blues set of four songs. Here are photos of the groups we'll be honored to share the stage with.

The producers, Bobby and Leslie, are old professionals. Leslie used to perform with the Mamas & Papas and she's made it abundantly clear that relying on cheat sheets onstage is unprofessional and forbidden. Well, duh, of course it is, how silly of me to even wish for my music stand. So I've been running my lyrics through my head almost hourly, every night before I go to sleep (that's supposed to be a learning technique) and while driving. Yet I still manage to botch a word here, a phrase there, every time I rehearse.

I've decided the trick is not to expect perfection of myself, but to learn how to glide on through any mistake and keep going. Most people aren't hearing the song word-for-word anyway, they're busy ordering drinks, joking and greeting friends. Bobby tells me he's having the same difficulty, and almost gave up performing this year, in favor of recording. He loses it on songs he's performed thousands of times! But he'll be onstage tonight too, faking it until he makes it.

Every week I jam with two groups, playing guitar in my entry-level style and doing a lot of the singing: Arturo and the Beach Bums on Thursday and the Toe Jammers on Friday. It's a comfortable way to play songs, music stands in front of most of us, no drunken audience trying to shout over us, plenty of time to make mistakes, do songs over and get it right. But singing onstage is a different challenge, and one I find enjoyable, once I connect with the audience. Many of my Beach Bum and Toe Jammer friends will be rooting for us in the audience tonight, and though I don't expect rapt attention from them throughout our four songs, it'll be a comfort to see them there.

So wish us luck, amigos!

Desert Rose Chile Run / Cruise

Finally the weather gave us a nice break, it actually started as a freezing morning but once the sun started going up it actually sent some warmth our way. So, by 9:00 a.m. I was ready to hit the road, my partners in crime were on their way so it was shaping to be a nice morning. A quick breakfast eggs McMuffins, hash browns, and orange juice with lots of pulp later and we were on our way to the meeting place which in my case was only 10 minutes away.

When I got to Litchfield Rd. and I-10 two cars were already there. After me four more more showed up. We pretty much departed on time. We cruised to a nearby town by the name of Arlington, no not Arlington, Texas but Arlington, Arizona. The Desert Rose Cafe was to host it's annual Chili Cookout. I had done this run many times on the Harley, but this was a first to have cars join the bikers.

We gather promptly at around 10 a.m. on Litchfield and I-10.
This first generation Mustangs are timeless. I love the style and look of them.
Caught this image while waiting for our buddy to catch up with us.
The drive was pretty nice, clear skies, sun out, warm weather by noon, oh yes it was all good. There were vendors, beer gardens, they had an pretty good band playing all day and of course lots of chili. I hate to say this but the lines were too long and the plates too little so I did not eat there, we saved the appetite for later. But we did enjoy a beer and walked around the small venue a few times.

At first I noticed that attendance was low, and I attributed it to the cold weather we had been experiencing but by 1:00 p.m. people that probably decided to go at the last minute started showing up and eventually the place was a sea of leather.



By 1:00 p.m. the place was pretty crowded and if finally looked like a biker run.
The musical group lead singer made mention of how the car clubs were invited this year and mentioned that all he could see were those awesome Mustangs. Then you hear the one, two three, four, and of course they started to sing Mustang Sally.



The driver of the lead car in our group is a medic and while at the Desert Rose he was called by another member to go check out this guy that apparently had passed out. I never really asked him what happened but he came back some four to five minutes later.

We decided to all leave together and instead of heading back towards Phoenix he drove in the opposite direction. A few miles ahead there is a beautiful bridge and at the very end of it we were flagged by some bikers to slow down and stop. There was a down lady biker that apparently had lost control of her bike and was injured.





When we took off in the opposite direction I wondered where we were going, when we got to the accident scene my copilot in crime said, "See, there was a reason we came this way". Yes, our friend in the lead car once again put his skills in good service. We had to stay on the bridge for about half an hour. He kept the rider on the floor and had her pretty secured while we waited for the ambulance. Remember we are in the middle of nowhere and the lady rider whom by the way had complete leathers and full helmet was lucky enough to have a nurse and an experienced medic assisting her.




One of our other members got a blanked off his car to cover the lady rider. When we all left we noticed he stayed behind. About 10 miles ahead we stopped to wait for him. I asked "Why did he stay behind?" and my friend said, he is not about to leave his blanket. It's a really nice Ford Mustang blanket. I too would have waited for it.

I asked my friend, "So, where were we going?" and he said the guys just wanted to see the bridge.

Have you ever heard the term "God works in mysterious ways!"?

All said and done we had an awesome 90 mile round trip cruise and finally got back home at around 5:00 p.m. after we stop for some Chinese Buffet.

Looking forward to the next adventure already.

Angels Watching Over Me...

Brethren, today the song "Angels" sung by Amy Grant, spoke specially to me. I wanted to share the lyrics with you:

"Take this man to prison," the man heard Herod say,
And then four squads of soldiers came and carried him away.
Chained up between two watchmen, Peter tried to sleep,
But beyond the walls an endless prayer was lifting for his keep.
Then a light cut through the darkness of a lonely prison cell,
And the chains that bound the man of God just opened up and fell,
And running to his people before the break of day,
There was only one thing on his mind, only one thing to say:

Angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!

God only knows the times my life was threatened just today.
A reckless car ran out of gas before it ran my way.
Near misses all around me, accidents unknown,
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home.
But I know they're all around me all day and through the night.
When the enemy is closing in, I know sometimes they fight
To keep my feet from falling, I'll never turn away.
If you're asking what's protecting me then you're gonna hear me say:

Got His angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angles watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me....

Angels watching over me....
Angels watching over me.

Got His angels watching over me, every move I make,
Angels watching over me!
Angels watching over me, every step I take,
Angels watching over me!

Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me,
Angels watching over me!

Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home....

The Outward Apostolate

Father Nicolas Schwizer

We can distinguish some different means.

1. The apostolate of the word. The word gives a name to what a mode of living suggests. It openly proposes the meaning one gives life and which became transparent by giving testimony. It is a word which in order to be truly apostolic, must be respectful, understandable, and having foundation.

In the long run, the most beautiful testimony will be revealed as powerless, if it is not made clear, justifiable, and explicit. Paul VI teaches us this in one of his encyclicals. And we are Christians because one day we received that clear word. And in gratitude, we also should direct that word – in a given moment – to brothers and sisters who are searching, consciously or unconsciously, for the meaning of their lives.

2. The apostolate of action. Over all, there are three areas offered to us for this: our community, the Church, and the world.

2.1 The building up of our community is a priority for us. The best service we can lend to our Church will consist in forging a numerous, missionary, and vigorous community. This requires dedication and constant surrender. Personally, I am convinced that some of us do many things, and among them, we also participate in our community. Some, perhaps, do what is urgent and then do not have time left for doing what is important. Others are not able to say “no to the apostolate.” Perhaps we all lack a clear list of values. Would this not be the opportunity for each one or each married couple to make a list of their personal priorities?

2.2 Another apostolic area is the Church. We want to be heart of the Church. I believe that sooner or later we are also going to have to develop an apostolic strategy. Our apostolate can not only be the fruitfulness of likes or personal vocations, but has to also respond to the greater and broader needs.

We have to also be disposed for it if it is necessary. Let us think, for example, in the possibility of assuming someday the responsibility for an institute on family pastoral needs, etc.

2.3 The other area is the world, a more specific area for the laity. We are called to transform the world, to transform our county. God, through us, wants to create a new social order. We have the responsibility of working and striving so that our earth can be a piece of Heaven.

The world of politics, social concerns, economy, and the culture of the arts and other realities open to the apostolate await us.

3. An ultimate means, besides the word and action, is the apostolate of prayer and suffering. It is an apostolate which everyone can perform.

Sometimes it is the only effective and fruitful apostolate. Regardless, it should always accompany our external apostolic activity. But I have the impression that it requires more of us than the action does. We are still far from being masters of prayer and sacrifice.

4. Another step. On the level of family, we should seek – perhaps – community forms of apostolate in which all of the members can help. Thus the family becomes a school of apostles and a small Cenacle from which each one is sent to assume his/her personal apostolic commitments in the Church and world. Our home plays a decisive role in this: as a place where one is rooted and supported, as a place of formation and transformation, as a place of apostolic sending forth.

Questions for reflection

1. At the present, what apostolate am I carrying out?

2. What type of apostolate would I like to perform?

3. In which way can I change my environment?

O Lord, my God…

…it’s been a hard week on all fronts. I feel very tired today and on top of it, I’m ill.

I feel my weaknesses like never before and have come to know my pride.

Come and heal me.

Conform me to the image of your Son, Jesus.

Exchange my heart for His

And make me holy,

that I may sing your praises for ever,

World without end.

Amen.

Puppy love

Yesterday at the library the main topic of conversation (besides books) was the fact that nobody can remember our little corner of Paradise ever suffering such a blast of cold air as we've had the past three days. Old-timers who've been retreating from NOB every winter for 30 years said they'd never seen it so cold here. Iced-over birdbaths! Thirty-knot gusts! Thermometers plunging to 37 degrees! Caramba! Much fretting over outdoor events planned for the next week, including a concert where the Capt and I may be performing for an audience of a half-dozen hardy souls huddling under blankets. Still, my sister in Oklahoma provided me with a little more positive perspective when she sent me this shot of her front yard.

For the moment, the winds have died down, skies are blue and the sun (yes, that very same sun we hide from all summer) is making a welcome reappearance.  I'm going to meet fellow blogger Brenda at a little patio cafe for lunch, and meet her friend who's just started teaching at a school in Guaymas. We'll soak up some rays while we can and then tonight we'll be battening down the hatches once again as another norther rolls through.

I also worry about the dogs at the Refuge, which is now full to capacity. I went to tianguis (the weekly Mexican outdoor market in Empalme) last Sunday with another Refuge volunteer and we found a litter of seven puppies wandering around in the crowd that someone had apparently abandoned, assuming they'd be picked up by someone. We were able to catch four of them and bring them back for medical checks, worming and vaccinations. So now the Refuge has six puppies of various sizes. We've bundled them all up in sweaters made by our local professional knitter Alma. Every night the chiminea is stoked and the puppies are kenneled as close to the warmth as possible.

Two adult females have been recently spayed and are recovering, one a rescue from Hermosillo called Negrita (pictured above) and the other from the nearby Santa Rosa grocery store, so we call her Santa Rosa. And she does have a saintly disposition...

In other news,  I fell in love last weekend with a puppy I was babysitting for the weekend while her foster mom was in Tucson. Wink is about the size of a toy Yorkie, only about a month old, but already so bright and responsive, you'd think she was older. Possibly she's part chihuahua, or maybe she's just the runt of the litter. Over the weekend I taught her to do her whizbiz outside, sleep quietly on a cushion next to the bed and walk on a leash. I'd adopt her myself but the Capt is not persuaded, so she will join her siblings on a flight to New York where an agency called Stray from the Heart will find a home for her.

Lisa, who was kept confined for weeks while she recovered from mange and is therefore somewhat shy of humans, has grown back her coat and is looking good. She responds a lot better to human attention.

We have a handsome young male named Rocco who came to us after surgery to remove a wire that had been tightly wrapped around his neck when he was a pup (why? I can't imagine!) so it was imbedded in his skin as he grew. Rocco would make someone a wonderful guard dog or bodyguard for a woman, but he doesn't like children or men. Sometimes I wish we could have a visit from the Dog Whisperer to help us iron out these behaviors that are probably rooted in early abuse. Help us, Cesár!