Acoma Pueblo, New Mexico

I loved visiting the Acoma Pueblo so much with my friend Nancy almost ten years ago that I wanted Chuck to see it, too. He patiently took me there, which goes against his nature for back-tracking on any trip: We had to drive 55 miles west of Albuquerque (that night's destination) to go to Acoma before checking in to our hotel (and then drive back to Albuquerque).

View of Acoma Pueblo with Sky City Visitor's Center below

One must purchase a ticket to visit Acoma Pueblo and access to it is only allowed via their mini-buses. Dark clouds were approaching, and we were glad that we wore our windbreakers and brought an umbrella because rain started after our arrival on top.

From Wikipedia:
"The Pueblo lies on a 365-foot mesa, about 60 miles west of Albuquerque, New Mexico. The isolation and location of the Pueblo has sheltered the community for more than 1,200 years, which sought to avoid conflict with neighboring Navajos and Apaches.


"Today, about 300 two- and three-story adobe buildings reside on the mesa, with exterior ladders used to access the upper levels where residents live. Access to the mesa is by a road blasted into the rock face during the 1950s. Approximately 30 or so people live permanently on the mesa, with the population increasing on the weekends as family members come to visit and tourists, some 55,000 annually, visit for the day."

It is a little disappointing to find homes that do not appear to be old still standing there, but the designs are similar to the originals. During the tourist season, more people live there, because tables with Acoma pottery are out for sale with the artists' and their families selling them.  

I found it very interesting that the houses are passed on through mothers and daughters, on and on. That is also how people know which family they belong to--through their mothers.

Only living tree on Acoma Pueblo

We were lucky to arrive at the church, where no picture-taking is allowed with its cemetery in front, before the downpour began.

When the rain had lessened, most of the people went back to the bus. About five ladies, including me, went back to some tables with a guide because we wanted to buy some pottery. I went all out, mostly because this was my second trip there, and bought a large pot from Terrance Chino, Sr. He made the other pots pictured, and the one I got is in the front.

Pots by Terrance M. Chino, Sr.

While it rained, I wrote him a check and we arranged for him to mail it to me. A week had passed after our return home, and it had not come. Last Friday I was surprised by a phone call from Terrance Chino, himself; asking me if the pot had arrived. In fact, it was delivered that very afternoon! I was surprised at how well he had wrapped it--triple wrapped in bubble wrap, taped together, and in two boxes with styrofoam pellets for protection. Plus, I was astounded at how it was more beautiful (and bigger!) than I had remembered. Amazingly, the artist enclosed a piece of notebook paper, with the different symbols drawn and described. I am thrilled with this personal connection with the artist.

 Poor Chuck had a stressful drive back to Albuquerque, because the thunderstorm accompanied us along the way.

Still, we were/are both glad that we visited Acoma (Sky City) Pueblo on May 23, 2014.

Friday Five: Friday the 13th!

RevKarla brings today's Friday Five to RevGalBlogPals:

Happy Friday the 13th, Gals and Pals!

SO, let’s get right on it~~

1.  Are you superstitious about anything?  Like, lucky socks for competition, special necklace for preaching, etc.?
 Not really. I think I've tried to be at different times in my life by carrying some special item like a rock or cross, but I always lose track of it sometime.


2.  I’m going on vacation on Tuesday.  I have never been so ready for vacation.  What are you looking forward to?
We already had a wonderful vacation that I am currently blogging about. Husband Chuck wanted to go traveling before all the kids got out of school, so we came home about the time schools were closing.

We always look forward to a brief respite in Washington State, visiting Chuck's parents, dear friends, and our daughters, in July or August.

3.  There is a lot going on in sports right now–World Cup, Basketball finals, and much more.   If your life were a sport, what would it be, and why? 
Probably like the soccer team of young children who huddle around the ball and don't seem to know which way to go, slowly learning the dynamics of the game.

4.  Hey!  Remember orange push-up ice cream treats?  What happened to them?  What is one of your favorite summer treats?  Ice cream sandwich, popsicles, frozen grapes, fruit pizza, DQ Dilly Bar, etc.?
I used to love Dilly Bars and even ordered enough for a bus-load of kids when we took them on a field trip to the Portland Zoo and were returning to Eddyville School way back in 1978.

While my children were young, I always made many, many popsicles from fruit juices for them.  Another good treat is taking pineapple rings and laying two on top of each other on a cookie sheet, then putting an ice cream stick in between each one. Put the entire sheet into the freezer to freeze.

5.  So there is this thing called “Listserve” that picks one random person per day to write an email to like a million people world-wide.  It’s pretty cool. Some people make music suggestions, offer sage advice, or plug their latest interest/project.  If you could write a note to a million people around the world, what would you say?
 Remember what Julian of Norwich said: "All shall be well, all shall be well, all manner of things shall be well" while keeping in mind that the Torah says "The highest form of wisdom is kindness."

Let This Be Prayer

O God, I do not know how to pray. Because I do not know what it means to pray properly, to pray in 
such a way as to serve or worship, I must offer what I have and can do as my prayer. And here it is.

 Let this posture be the prayer

Let this intention be the prayer

Let this very not-knowing be the prayer

Let this breath be the prayer

Let this resistance and discomfort be the prayer

Let this distraction be the prayer

Let this drinking of tea be the prayer

Let this eating of breakfast be the prayer

Let this hectic schedule be the prayer

Let this attempt at Remembrance be the prayer

Let the steps walked in silence across the parking lot be the prayer

Let the birdsong noted be the prayer

Let this poor journal-writing be the prayer

Let the vastness of the night sky be the prayer

Let worrying, and then dropping the worry be the prayer

Let chanting and dancing and reading be the prayer

Let dressing and undressing be the prayer

Let sleeping and rising and sleeping and rising be the prayer

Let missing someone be the prayer

Let memories and whispered calls for help for others be the prayer

Let opening the door and putting on and taking off shoes be the prayer

Let the keeping simple order be the prayer

Let the celebration of light and darkness be the prayer

Let warmth and cold be the prayer

All of it, not bad, not good, just as it is and wondrous all of it. . . .

          be the prayer

O God, in my helplessness, from nowhere, with nothing, let these poor prayers, as flowers, draw You

to the garden from which their fragrance arises.

                                        ~Regina Sara Ryan

Ryan, Regina Sara. Praying Dangerously: Radical Reliance on God. Prescott, Arizona: Hohm Press, 2011. 19-20.

Las Cruces, New Mexico

On our trip, we followed Marfa and Fort Davis, TX with a stop in Las Cruces, NM to meet Sherry, a long time blogging friend.

Before meeting them at their new home, we walked around old Mesilla, NM, which began around 1848 and was the location for Billie the Kid's trial. It was fun to look in little shops and walk around the plaza. I took some pictures of doorways, reminding me of my friend Nancy doing this when we came to NM to celebrate our 55th birthdays.

It was fun to find a little bookstore packed with books, where I had to purchase a book, of course. I decided that I would purchase a book at every independent bookstore we visited. This time I found one that I probably would never have found anywhere else, entitled The Anthropology of Turquoise: Reflections on Desert, Sea, Stone, and Sky by Ellen Maloy, who is an artist/naturalist. Her essays on nature, beauty and color from her travels around the southwest are lovely.

Mesilla Bookstore

I loved the store's decorations and its unique ceiling.

Further along our walk, I found a small church store, the Basilica of San Albino Gift Shop, where I found a unique nativity scene, which remains in the box they put it in when I purchased it. We took pictures of its entryway with the statue of Mary.

If you go to the link for the gift shop, you will see pictures of some of the items they sell, which range from the usual Roman Catholic gift shop products to works of local artists. Quite lovely.

Chuck took a picture of me there, which shows a nice smile but also the bulges that I have gained in the past months, especially on this most recent trip.








Then we had a nice visit with our new friends, followed by dinner they treated us with at a Mexican restaurant. They also took a really nice picture of Chuck and me.

Chuck and Jan

What a good beginning to our vacation!

Recipe for Apple Cake

I took this cake to the Wisdom Class today, and it was delicious!


Double Apple Bundt Cake
Adapted from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking: From My Home to Yours

You can really use any kind of apples for this recipe, but the more firm they are, the easier they’ll be to grate. Also, if you opt for a store-bought apple butter, try to find the least sweet of the ones that are available (or, hey, make your own!). My cake came out a little sweeter than I might have liked due to an apple butter that was creeping near cloying, though nobody (but, um, me) complained about the sweetness of the finished cake. 

If you’ve got the time (and the willpower), this Bundt is the sort of fabulous cake that tastes when better when left to stand overnight, wrapped well in plastic wrap, before serving.

Makes 12 servings
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon salt
10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 large eggs
1 cup store-bought (or homemade) apple butter, spiced or plain
2 medium apples, peeled, cored and grated
1 cup pecans or walnuts, chopped
1/2 cup plump, moist raisins (dark or golden)

Optional glaze:
1/3 cup confectioners’ sugar
about 2 tablespoons lemon juice, orange juice, (or milk or water, whatever you’ve got)

Position a rack to the center of the oven and preheat it oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 12-cup nonstick Bundt pan, or if yours is not nonstick, butter and flour it, too.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, spices and salt. Set aside.
In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream together the butter and sugar on medium speed until light, fluffy and pale in color, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the bowl.

Beat in the eggs one at a time. Scrape down the bowl again. Reduce the speed to low and mix in the apple butter–don’t worry if the batter looks curdled at this point.

Mix in the grated apples. With the mixer still running on low speed, stir in the dry ingredients gradually. When just a few streaks of flour remain, stir in the nuts and raisins. Stop the mixer and give the batter a few folds by hand just to make sure everything’s incorporated.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan, and bake until a toothpick comes out clean inserted deeply into the center of the cake comes out clean, about 50 to 55 minutes. Let cool on a wire rack for about 10-15 minutes before unmolding it onto the rack to cool completely.

If you want to glaze the cake, stir together the confectioners’ sugar and your liquid of choice, a tiny bit at a time, until the glaze falls easily off the end of a spoon. Place the cake on a serving plate. Drizzle the cake generously with the glaze, letting it drip down the sides of the cake. Alternatively, you can dust the cake with confectioners’ sugar just before serving. This cake keeps beautifully at room temperature for up to 4 days, or up to 2 months in the freezer.

Frustration!!

I am totally frustrated with trying to print an attachment from Oblate School of Theology about the retreat I am attending next week!! It will not print or download on my computer because I do not have the latest Word Perfect and do not want to buy it. That's why I am now using Google Chrome documents, but I couldn't figure out how to transfer it there!!

It only has worked with emailing the document to Chuck, who could open it on his much older computer.

Fort Davis and Marfa, TX

The first two nights of our trip were spent in Fort Davis, TX. There is a triangle in southwest TX (only two hours from El Paso) of Fort Davis, Alpine, and Marfa. Ever since moving here, I have heard friends talk about that area, especially about the Marfa Lights.

The Veranda Inn, Fort Davis, TX

Our room

We stayed at a nice bed and breakfast inn called The Veranda, found through Trip Advisor, which we have come to trust as we travel. Through the recommendations from the owner of The Veranda, we spent one morning at the Chihuahuan Desert Nature Center.

It was a beautiful place to visit and would be a good place to go on hikes. We spent most of our time in the large greenhouse for cacti, third largest in the nation. So many different varieties of cacti in close proximity!

Jan in cacti greenhouse

 I am not very proficient at positioning pictures, but here are a few I took. Unfortunately, I did not write down the names of the cacti. But these images may give you a small idea of the different varieties growing there.

The morning we went there, we also drove to Marfa for lunch at The Food Shark and then drove up to the McDonald Observatory. We drove around the Fort Davis, Alpine, and Marfa and on roads around there in the Davis Mountains.

Food Shark Marfa, TX

Blogger Meet-Up

I finally had the opportunity to meet Sherry of many blogs! I am used to her Feather Adrift Blog, but am not sure if that is the correct title anymore.

Jan and Sherry in Las Cruces, NM on May 22, 2014

In fact, Chuck and I met Sherry and her husband and Diego, their dog. They generously took us out to dinner where we had some of the best cheese enchiladas we have ever had. This was a wonderful way to start our two-week trip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There has been a long absence from blogging: first I got sick with a bad cold, which was further complicated by an infection and the brief cessation of my RA drugs. I was amazed at how quickly the antiobiotics helped improve my health once I got a Z-pack. My rheumatologist told me that often when we get a cold, start to get better and then get sick again, we have caught an infection. So I learned that this time.

Then Chuck and I went on a two-week trip to the west and north, with our final destination being Salt Lake City to visit our youngest daughter MJ. I downloaded 353 pictures from my camera to my computer and so will be posting pictures in the coming weeks about our trip. I would like to record it for myself some way.

I did manage to get a few pics on Facebook about our trip, but these were from my I-phone. Now that Chuck has learned how to download I-pictures to the computer, maybe I'll have some of these here, too.

WE had a wonderful trip, meeting wonderful people and seeing beautiful sites.

Emma's Baptism

Our dear friend, Rev. Gloria Lear, presided over Emma's baptism on Sunday, May 18 at First United Methodist Church.

Here are a few pictures from that happy event.




The friends son DC grew up with before the baptism. My son has the beard and is holding Emma.




Rev. Gloria Lear showing newly baptized Emma to her parents and Godparents.




Rev. Gloria Lear showing Emma to the congregation.




Chuck, AA, Avery, Jan, DC with Emma

I love being Nana!

Mother's Day

By Gertrud Mueller Nelson

I feel like my mother was a remarkable woman; she was talented in many ways and very loving, especially to me, her only child. We were good friends all my life, which is why I still miss her today on this American holiday of Mother's Day, even though she died 22 years ago.

As I ponder this, I realize that I never wondered that she might have missed her mother, too. Until I had children of my own, I never thought too much of my mother having emotions other than the irritation she sometimes exhibited towards my father and/or me, otherwise she was pleasant.

I suppose it is difficult to empathize with someone else's feelings unless one has experienced it in a similar capacity. She must have missed her family during all the years we moved around with my dad in the Marine Corps, but never shared anything with me. (I was self-centered and only thought of how moves were difficult for me!) When her parents died, she did not express her loneliness or regret at all. I was an adolescent at those time and would have been old enough to understand some of that--or so I think now.

I wish she had shared some of those feelings with me, but she was of the generation that did not complain. In fact, that is how she brought me up: "Don't bother people with your problems." It has taken me years to realize that expressing sad memories and/or emotions is not "complaining," which I am still learning how to do.

As people are expressing on FB and elsewhere, each female is the result of her mother and her children (if she has any). I am fortunate to have my four children, two with loving spouses, who are continuing to grow me into the person I am, as are my two granddaughters. I will always be thankful for the mother I had.

Happy Mother's Day to all: I hope you are able to treasure memories of your mother today.

Allergies + Cold = No Voice

From here

For the past several months, I have been beset by allergies, worse than anytime since I was a child. Visiting my new doctor, I started taking a second antihistamine. Taking two under her guidance seemed to help me a lot until I caught a cold.

This past weekend we took care of granddaughters Emma and Avery. Emma seemed to have a light cold, which I may have caught from her or out in the air of stores and other places.

Besides a stuffed head, I have lost my voice. Looking up "laryngitis" on the internet brought forth the information that caffeine and antihistamines tend to dry out the throat and mouth, which could contribute to inflammation of the larynx.

My self-diagnosis indicates rest with lots of fluids, plus cessation of antihistamines for a few days. (The latter effects have not worn off yet, because I took a pill this morning.) So we will see. . . .

It is always annoying that I feel so badly with a COLD!

Avery with Chalk

Chuck and I babysat our granddaughters Avery and Emma this past weekend. Here is Avery drawing with chalk on her driveway.









- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Look!

My Mother's Birthday

I always think of my mother on her birthday, April 24. She would have been 95 today if she had lived. It is funny to think that her birth certificate showed that she was born on April 23, 1919, but her birthday was always celebrated on April 24. My guess is that she was born around midnight, but at home, so there was no "official" time recorded.

She met my father while they were both stationed in Hawaii during WWII. They both served in the Marine Corps. Here is a picture of her taken in her uniform in December 1943. She was about the age of my youngest daughter (now), who is named after her.

Happy Bunny Day!

Here is an Easter picture of Emma taken by her daddy, our son. Grandpa Chuck found that cute dress at Cracker Barrel, where he goes every Wednesday morning to meet with his Emmaus Reunion Group.

Chuck also bought a little bunny dress in March 1982 for newborn AE to wear home from the hospital. I like the connection between his dress choices for daughter and granddaughter.

Happy Easter and Happy Bunny Day!

Wishing You Easter Joy!

And for a much deeper message, please read my blogging friend Terri's post "Easter: Revealing Our Truest Self."

The Art of Losing: Maundy Thursday

As I googled "stripping the altars" for Maundy Thursday, I came up with a link to a good article "Stripped Bare: Holy Week and the Art of Losing" in the May 16, 2012 issue of Christian Century. It was so good that I posted it on FB, which seems to be looked upon more frequently than this blog. I hope you'll read it.

The author of that article, Richard Lischer, pointed to a poem by Elizabeth Bishop (1911-1979), a new poet for me.

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. —Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

One Art

by Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant 
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212#sthash.SpPvsGvI.dpuf

Story? Truth?

“Story helps us with the questions that have no answers. I wish the Church (of all denominations) would be brave enough to acknowledge that there are questions which, during our mortal lives, are not going to be answered. There are no answers to the wonder of Creation, the marvel of the Incarnation, the glory of the Resurrection. Too many answers lead to smug self-righteousness and—even worse—to human beings, rather than God, deciding who is and who is not loved by the Maker. Can’t we trust God?”

Madeleine L’Engle. The Rock That Is Higher: Story As Truth. Colorado Springs: WaterBrook Press, 2002. 102.

Friday Five: A Short One

RevKarla brings today's Friday Five to RevGalBlogPals:

It’s time for the pre-Holy Week Friday Five!

1.  What is your favorite Easter candy?

Cadbury mini chocolate eggs. I like the rich milk chocolate with the crunchy outer shell.


2.  Do you have an Easter memory from childhood to share, then please do.  Or any Easter memory.

 I think the excitement of looking for Easter eggs with my children stands out. DC's wife AA loved this tradition when they first started dating in college, because everyone still had eggs to find! (That's because there is a wide range of children--four in 10 1/2 years.)

3.  Speaking of, what your most favorite day of the past two weeks been?  Why?

Almost all the days have seemed "favorite" because we are having perfect weather. It is in the high 70s and around 60 or below at night. People get tired of me saying, "This weather is like a Bellingham (WA) summer day!) There is always a brief period in south TX,which constitutes our spring, that the weather is sublime. It doesn't last long and soon heat and humidity will be here to stay.


4.  I am kind of digging’ Chipotle’s sofritos these days (marinated and “shredded” tofu) and have been eating them like twice a week.  Is there something new in your life that keeps bringing you back for more?  (be ye creative here…)

Something "new" is the rediscovery of writing notes to friends and family. I had forgotten how much I enjoy doing that! I have stockpiles of cute cards that I collect when I travel and need to be sending them out.
 
5.  Of course, a sentence. Using the following words (or some form thereof):  Tree frog, squares, kleenex, eyeglass, lost, daffodil, palms, lamb, Peeps, licorice jelly beans, and donkey.

Sorry, I can't do that today. The beautiful spring weather has stirred up my allergies, so I am in a muddle.

Our Lord of Flaked Paint

Our Lord of Flaked Paint freckling
sallow skin and emerald robes,

Our Lord of Mudpuddle Eyes
that look away in weary irritation,

no one can touch your loneliness,
God cut off from God.

You who flamed a world into being
with only words, stood

in the midst of bickering men,
fig trees dying, and sparrows

falling to the ground.
Were there days when heat and dust,

the smell of stale crowds
pushing you from place to place,

asking for one more resurrection,
food for thousands

or withered hands healed,
made you want to slash the canvas,

fly back to heaven and start fresh
on some new world far away?

Days where your head ached
from sun on sand and water,

where your throat scraped raw
from shouting Blessed are. . . to men

who would go home, forget, and return
to nail you to a piece of wood?

No one understood your stories,
could grasp that you would trade

legions of angels
for nine ungrateful lepers,

the friend who turned you in,
and never enough sleep.

Our Lord of Omnipotent Frustration
with your halo like a setting sun,

your hand is raised as if to bless me,
though I can't imagine why.

~~Jana-Lee Germaine

Christian Century, November 3, 2009.

(Not) Blogging = Procrastination

Well, at one point, I committed to blogging every day or at least more frequently. That started to fizzle when I had company from Canada and then recovery time afterwards. So this procrastination image fits me in connection to (not) blogging:

Keeping Quiet

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for one second
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

Pablo Neruda

Source: translated by Alistair Reid in Extravagaria

From Inward/Outward. Subscribe here.    
 

Hidden God, We Pray

Hidden God, whose depths are infinite,
Help us shed our outer layers in this silence.
Uncover the stranger that is within.
Living on the surface, seeing only what is visible,
can blind us toward the very thing we need to recognize. 
Rather than the condemnation we claim upon ourselves and others, 
guide us to deeper truths through which life emerges. 
Bring acceptance, clarity and peace up from the sacred chaos. Amen.

—Prayer by Janet Salbert

Daffodils!

Daffodils don't grow in TX, or at least not in south TX. My daughter MJ sent me this picture of daffodils that she took in Salt Lake City. I love daffodils.

Friday Five: signs of Spring

Deb brings today's Friday Five to RevGalBlogPals:




As spring slowly begins to bring a thaw to those of us in the northern Northern Hemisphere, I have been watching for signs of renewal and rebirth. It is also part of the season of Lent as well. This week, let’s focus on the signs of spring within us and around us!

Share with us:

1. Your favorite spring flower. (Is it blooming yet? If so, share the joy by posting a picture of that loveliness with those of us still waiting!)

Here in south TX, wildflowers and the greening of the mesquite trees announces spring. We have two mesquite trees to the right of our house. They have had bright green leaves at the tips of their branches until yesterday when it seemed like all the love burst out! Even friends on FB are announcing spring is here because of the mesquite trees.

2. Your spring cleaning routine. Do you have one? Is there a family memory or tradition around it?


I have always heard of "spring cleaning," but did not see that exhibited in my family growing up. When a sunny day arrives (and it is not too hot), I suddenly have the energy to go around cleaning. I had meant to collect and discard a "bag a day" during Lent, but have not been consistent with my cousins from Canada visiting for the past two weeks.

3. A personal area of growth where you have seen some success lately. It can be personal, physical, spiritual or familial.

Having my Canadian cousins visiting has nurtured familiarity and connection for Chuck and me, plus oldest son DC and his family.  I appreciate this expensive effort to travel from Canada almost to Mexico and have loved being with Margaret, Kathy, 3 year-old Zoe, and 8 month-old Ryan.


4. When does “spring” usually arrive in your area? Are you holding out for late May? Or are you one of the lucky ones who has already put away her sweaters and mittens?


Spring usually arrives earlier in March than it is this year. In fact, my cousins from Calgary, Alberta, Canada have found less sunshine and warmth than they expected for their two-week visit. (Still, it has been better than the snow in Calgary.)  "Spring" is short-lived in south TX, with summer temperatures soon behind. I like to think of our spring has similar to a Bellingham, WA summer!

And spring has arrived here with the onset of allergy symptoms for me. Here is a chart showing possible allergens in TX:

5. A verse or set of verses from Scripture that speaks “new growth” to you. 

I have always loved these verses, which are assurance for the heat of TX:

Blessed are those who trust in the Lord,
      whose trust is the Lord.
They shall be like a tree planted by water,
      sending out its roots by the stream.
It shall not fear when heat comes,
     and its leaves shall stay green;
In the year of drought it is not anxious,
     and it does not cease to bear fruit.

Jeremiah 17: 7-8

Lent Madness: Basil about "Prayer"

This Lent, I am subscribing to daily emails from Lent Madness, in which 32 saints are place in competition to determine which one gets the “golden halo” at the end of Lent. Each day, two are offered with their biographies and votes are taken. Now we are down to 16 “winners” to vote for each day. (Surprisingly, yesterday John Wesley was defeated by his brother Charles!)

Today the vote is between Basil the Great and Antony of Egypt. I really liked a few quotes of Basil about prayer, which I am posting below:

How to Pray

"Prayer is a request for what is good, offered by the devout of God. But we do not restrict this request simply to what is stated in words. We should not express our prayer merely in syllables, but also through the attitude of our soul and in the virtuous actions we do in our life. This is how you pray continually — not by offering prayer in words, but by joining yourself to God through your whole way of life, so that your life becomes one continuous and uninterrupted prayer."

Praying Daily

"When you sit down to eat, pray. When you eat bread, do so thanking God for being so generous to you. If you drink wine (or coffee), be mindful of God who has given it to you for your pleasure and as a relief in sickness. When you dress, thank God for His kindness in providing you with clothes. When you look at the sky and the beauty of the stars, throw yourself at God’s feet and adore Him who ordered things this way. When the sun goes down and when it rises, when you are asleep or awake, give thanks to God, who created and arranged all things for your benefit, to have you know, love and praise their Creator."

This was also posted for "Thursday Prayer" at RevGalBlogPals.

Pictures from Austin

Annie and Emma

 This past weekend, Chuck and I drove two cars to Austin. My cousin Margaret came with me. We were meeting Margaret's daughter Kathy and her two children at the Austin Airport. Then, "the Canadians" would use one of our cars for their travels.


We spent two nights in Austin. One highlight was visiting the Thinkery Children's Museum on Sunday. It is a wonderful place to go to with any age of children. Kathy's 8-month-old son Ryan loved a low-walled area for infants where he crawled around, playing with beads and other items on the walls. Someone asked Chuck if he as Ryan's grandfather! (You can see why with the picture below.)

Chuck and Ryan

Zoe is the girl in the back.

Zoe loved playing with the water.

Kathy's 3 1/2 year old daughter Zoe was very active in the different areas, especially with the water activities. 




Avery liked the artsy areas better, plus the kitchen and store spaces upstairs were favorites of hers.

David and Avery

Margaret and Ryan

Kathy reading to Avery and Zoe at Avery's house.

New Mystery Author (to me)

When I was at Book People (independent book store) in Austin on Friday, a "Book Person" worker asked me if I needed help as I wandered the mystery section. When he further queried who my favorite mystery authors were I could only think of two favorites: Louise Penny and Jacqueline Winspear. He took me directly to Terry Shames, whom I had never heard of. Trusting this guy who seemed to be a reader, I bought two copies, always wanting to support independent books stores (even though I buy too much online).

I have read half of A Killing at Cotton Hill, "A Samuel Craddock Mystery." (I see on Amazon that the Kindle copy is only $2.99.) I haven't decided if I like this character as much as Armand Gamache or Maisie Dobbs, but I am enjoying his common sense and quirkiness. He is the former chief of police in a small Texan town, who is admired and respected much more than the current, politically-appointed, drunken police chief. When a long-time friend is murdered, he starts to investigate. I like it so far and don't know how it will end yet. (Good sign for a mystery.)

Since I also bought the second book at Book People, I will easily read it next. Since it is a signed copy, I am assuming that the author was a featured speaker at Book People, which may be why they had multiple copies of her books, or they are just good.

The second one is entitled The Last Death of Jack Harbin. By the time I finish that one, I will be able to tell if I like these books and would recommend them.

This Lenting

This lenting
 
is a longing, looking,

isolating and locating process,

a passing of the time between

what has to be, what may become,

a late, last, solitary lingering

among the soiled and crusted snowbanks

of deep-drifted hurt and disappointment

seeking out those tender-tough new shoots

that pierce the calloused surface

of all losing with the agony

of life becoming green again.

by J. Barrie Shepherd.