Princess Dancing Strings

Rumba y Fuego Bachata Festival 10-02-10

2010-10-04T11:13:00.001-07:00

What a RUSH!

2008-02-11T22:17:00.000-08:00

My first performance with Rumba y Fuego. It was like seet and sour sauce. So many good things, one mistake and one slip on the dress to fall on my head? But, I did it! I did it!

Roma Farewell

2007-10-19T16:18:00.000-07:00

Today we are back in Roma with the Genungs. It is such a welcome break after the wierd manners of the Greeks. We went to Colloseo and had an inside tour which was amazing. We saw all the walls underneath the colloseum where all the animals were held for the gladiators to fight. It is our last day in Rome and possibly the last time in our lives in Rome. We are very nistalgic. We touch the walls and feel 2000 generations of people who have passed this way. Its very moving.

We have pesto pasta with the Genungs and Cristinas aunt and uncle lola and Jose. We drink greek wine from santorini. We tell lots of stories of Cristina flagging Taxis and talking back in defense of her situation. She is famous for this, of course! It is a beautiful evening. M and I look for a cuban cigar but it is closed, and instead have a glass of grappa and talk about being a lay person and still a good catholic! how is this done! When you are drinking grappa, it all seems clear enough!

Tomorrow we fly to London. Our last day in Europe. It has been a great , great vacation. We are ready to go home and see those we love~

That is another grea thing about seeing things far away, they give you perspective and value to those things close to you.

PDS

Beads

2007-10-19T16:11:00.000-07:00

We spent a very peaceful day travelling from Santorini to Rome today. We started out the morning on the balcony of our hotel Villa Renos. Observing the last sights of the Chaldera eating a fabulous breakfast of sweet pastries in philllo, yogurt, fruit, cheese, tomatoes and salami.

I got in a whole another round of fights with Creepy rose guy after he wanted to charge another night of hotel charges....

We noticed funny things about Greeks, and here are a few.

1. It is just absolutely funny that Greek men use the Worry beads. These are beads that look like a rosary but actually they are beads that have no meaning. Just out of the blue you will hear beads clicking, and you look around the the average Greek guy has got a hand on these things and he's just swinging them around. It is truly the funniest thing I have seen in a while. No reason. Just fiddling with these beads. Guys in suits, guys smoking a cigarette at the bar, guys everywhere are swinging these worry beads. No women, just men. huh, go figure

2. No toilet paper can be flushed down the drain. Thepipes evidently are too small. Though it sounds gross, it is true. All bathrooms have liittle trash cans with lids that you must put the
tP in. hmmm.

3. The streets have cobblestone streets that are not cobblestones, but rocks that have painstainkingly been placed on their edge to make a street.

4. Wine vines are put down to the ground as baskets.

5. The word for yes, in Greek is "Ne".

Boutari

2007-10-17T12:47:00.000-07:00

Today we hit the Boutari vineyard to see how they make the Santorini wine. They mostly make white. The ground here has a topsoil that is volcanic debris, or rock. It is very arid. They had a display of all the different layers of rocks and the top 3 feet are volcanic gravel, it almost looks like. There is very nearly no rain, and there is not enough water to irrigate.

All of the vines are wrapped around in a basket to preserve the humity that rises up from the sea.

My session in my cafe expiring. More tomorrow !

Good night!

Io

2007-10-16T11:09:00.000-07:00

Today we woke up and headed upstairs to breakfast. Wow! How beautiful! A homemade breaksfast with fresh squeezed orange juice and jams made from apricots and figs from the owners fruit trees. I myself was not enjoying one bit of it because the more I thought about it, the more angry I was that these people were double charging me for having made two reservations when clearly we were only using one room and giving me the runaround. I wore dark glasses so I wouldn'thave to look at them. The young son gave me a rose, and said here is a rose for you since you haven't smiled since yesterday. I took the rose and laid it on the table and didn't smile. Thankyou. I left it on the table when I left. How about 600$ buddy, that would make me smile. You can take your rose and yadda yadda.

Anyhow, by the time we showered and spiffied up the room I walked past rose dude not looking at him or speaking to him on the way out. He pulled mom over and told her that he had refunded our other room. Thank you I told him and My world was indeed rosy again.

We headed south for the Ruins of Akrotiri which are 1000 BC dated, damn we keep getting older and older with these ruins. The island and cycladic architecture and countryside with the Agean sea views was simply as charming as they come. I was having an absolute ball driving the little smart cart up and down the rolling windy country sides. We see wineries and we see littel pottery places.

When we get to the ancient ruins, they are closed for the season for restoration so we walk down to a little snack shop. AND it is on the Aegean with little beach chairs at the edge of the water. We buy some orange juice and pull an umbrella up. We prop up our feet and listen to the waves lapping and take in the awesome sight of the coast. This is the life. Time stands still and you can hear yourself BREATHE!

Happy and content to have spent time with the sun and the black sand beach and the 5 little kittens who lay down with us, we head back to find one of the wineries and when they might have a tour tomorrow. We stop in a pottery shop and have a looky look. In 15 minutes we our back in Fira, our town so we pass it up and head north to Io. It is much higher up on the cliff... whoa... some pretty hairy driving here. There are hairpin clifs with no side guardrails and crazy locals whizzing by and Large Buses? How the hell do they stay on the road? This town has more of the cliff stucco buildings, but is slightly less touristy. Our guidebook says to keep going around back down the cliff to the bottom of the mountain and the marina. There are supposed to be divine and fresh off the boat seafood restaurants there. We pull down to the base of the mountain and eat at Dimitris. It is a little wharf/dock overlooking the little sea fishing boats and there are charcoal stoves that fish and octopus and such are all grilling on. We watch the sunset with some hummus and batter fried tomatoes. We watch the cruise ships pull out of harbor and back out to see. We look up the cliff and see all the little stucco houses twinkling down at us. This is truly one of the most quant spots imaginable to watch the sunset. The red snapper comes out, we share a fish. Heads on or off? Oh, well off please. This fish is amazingly delicious with the smoked grill and herbs.... couldn't get any fresher... there is folk greek music in the background... Feels dreamlike truly... we wonder if we will beleive this all really happened when we get back home!

Ciao friends,,

PDS

PSS Sorry Roo for no pictures. There are no cables for us to upload our gorgeous pictures. Oh there are like hundreds of small little churches with blue dome tops here. Evidently they are teeny tiny and only open once a year when the saint they are named after has a saint day. they only open one day a year. So Cute and Quant. Anyways, we have lots of pictures! Will try to upload some more when back in Rome on Friday with Ms computer!!! We miss you guys!
Ma and PDS

Santorini

2007-10-16T10:42:00.000-07:00

We flew into Santorini this afternoon. It's only a half an hour flight! You fly out of Athens and you stay low to the ground so you can see allthe little islands on the way. This takes 10 hours if you take the Ferry, and costs the same as the ferry! No thanks, I'll fly! We hung out in the Athens airport for 2 hours drinking capacinno and purusuing Greek Books because we nearly missed our flight out of Rome on Aegean Airlines due to it taking an hour and a half to check in. We checked in at Athens in 5 minutes. Go figure, you never know the way these things are gonna go.

This morning as we packed in our rooms the wind was whipping outside. Not a soul outside below the balconies in the 5-Star. Mom goes out to retrieve her unmentionables from the balcony that are drying from some laundering and she is missing half of her items. She looks over the balcony? Little pieces of black and pink fabric? No? She searches to the left and the right. She turns around, They're gone! We can't imagine where they went to. Out into the Sarconic Gulf? Mom has made her offering to the Greek Gods in her own way. Tee Hee.

We get into the airport and go to rent a car. We ask if they have the little 2 seater smart cars because mom has been admiring those all over Rome and Athens. Let me check the freindly car lady asks. Usually its more. She has us slated for a Ford Fiesta on the paperwork. Bluck!! She comes back, YES WE HAVE for you, no extra charge! Hee hee. She says, I show you how it works. We have room amazingly in the back for our luggage and our carryons. Its semiautomatic she states. Hmmm.... little shifter but no clutch. You just keep shifting up and up and up to 4th gear. Sometimes it locks, the smart car. It means it is confused. You just turn off and turn on again. You be in N gear and you put foot on brake. It work. You drive to Messyna you take right to Fira. Zoom zoom, we head out of dodge. Its fun to drive the smart car.

We get to Thira and the roads are smalllll and on a very big hill. You drive up a road it dead ends you you have no where toturn around. A Greek just sits in his car and watches me to do a 30 point turnaround to go back down. We find a little parking lot and we are SO glad we're in a smart car because it fits into little little space no other car could fit in. Also, the semi automatic means you don't roll when on a 45 degree incline that is on a very high cliff.

We walk into Fira. There is a little foot path that is on the edge of the Volcanic crater, the Chaldera. We go the edge of the wall, and peer down... there is all these little adobe whitewash buildings down the entire cliff. It looks like a little dollhouse. The view is everything you see in a postcard and more. The cliffs are red and black where the volcano errupted here 1,400 years ago. The Aegean Sea is below you with blue blue waters and 3 little island bits that are left over from the volcanic smashup. It is one of themost beautiful places inall of Europe the guide books tell you and we can't agree more.

We see the rooftop terrace of our hotel with a little wooden sign, Villa Renos. There it is! We hop down the stairs that is a little cobblestone path that winds and weaves all the way down the cliff to the sea where the cruise ship people take their ferrys back and forth from their cruise ship. Donkeys go up and down the path to bring people from the cruise ships. Also there is a cable wire with cars that you can take.

We check in and we have double reserved and double paid. Is there anything to be done I ask? We will see he says. We head down to our rooms that lead out onto a balcony that overlooks the cliffs of the Chaldera. You suck in your breath at the view. The rooms are partly built into the cliff of rock. The bathrooms are compeltely inside the rock so that they are solid and you get in lots of light from the French Doors. These square and rounded top stucco buildings are called Cycladic architecture that all these Greek Islands that are in the middle of the Aegean in the shape of a circle are called. It feels very simple, and quaint and homey.

We head to dinner around the footpath and down the cliff a ways at Selena. Here we have one of the best dinners of all times, seriosly, with local grown herbs and local tomatoes and local capers and caper leaves. Mine is sea bass wrapped in a crepe with capers and caper leaves and fresh herbs. Momma's is lamb chop in the most delightful tenderness and herbs. Appetizer is sea urchins which kind of taste like clams and a grilled artichoke heart on top of a sauce of white fava beans that is delicious. We wash it down with local Santorini wine. MMMM.

We wax slightly silly from the wine and talk about mom's honeymoon across the country to report to Dad's post in California for Graduate studies and about how they only had a sleeping bag in the apartment when they first arrived, because they had no furniture. We think about this because the other diners in front of us look like they are on their honeymoon. We drift back to the little Cycladic villa along the rock cobblestones....... Lovely evening....

Acropoli!

2007-10-14T11:22:00.000-07:00

We headed into Athens bright and early this morning. Caught the 9AM hotel shuttle into Syntagma square. That sure was easy, and not to mention free. No tickets or maps or routes to calculate. I was sort of let down, because I had my heart set on figuring out the local bus route #114 by myself, and then posting the directions on Tripadvisor.com- Alas, my competitiveness will have to wait for another opportune moment.

We met a lovely Indian Family from Dubai who had spent some time in states and had very American and excellent English. They were also headed for the Catholic Cathedral downtown as we were. So the father and I headed to the front of the little group and compared our maps and the routes we had carved out with each other like two fellow sailors navigating our way through troubled waters and comparing the routes the other had calculated. We found each other up to par, as we continued to sail side by side each clutching their own map like some ancient family jewel.

Alas, land ho! We found our Cathedral! All aboard! Mass was just lovely, and although half finished, we simply stayed on for the next viewing and stayed for the first half. The choir was heavenly, it was equivalent to a chorale performance. For some reason I was unusually tickeled that the Kyrie Eleison, which I have sung all of my life, was actually Greek and the Greeks were singing it.

We were experts on the Athens metro now, and Mom was in charge of Metro operations, since she was so good at getting the tickets for us and hopping on the Acropolis route.

Tickets in hand, we started up the rock. Rain started drizzling a bit and we were sure it would downpour on us at any moment, so we scurried on up to make sure we could get in a dry view.

Sigh. I really don^t have words for making to the top of the rock and seeing the parthenon for the first time, knowing that this building is 2,500 years old. It is just draw droppingly beautiful. And as you get higher and higher up the rock you can see all of the city of Athens all around you, and strangely, though this is a large tourist area, it is very peaceful. Almost everyone has somewhat of a reverent nature up here. You almost can^t help it. The rock transports you up so that you feel as if you are being picked up into Athena^s hand and then this monumentally large and ancient building peers at you. Not far off to the left is the Temple of Athena, Nike, which i never knew nike meant victory. Celebrating vicotorious Athena. it struck me as joyful, with the corner cutout for 6 or so busts of Athena just on the corner looking triumphant. Truly amazing, considering we have no building in the us that is older than 200 years old. essentially.

We meandered down and poked around the Temple of Zeuss, but since its only from 142AD we weren^t really that impressed with it. plus its roman. hee hee.

We came back to our hotel and partook in a sandwhich and a beer in front of our gorgeous Sardonic Gulf view. i checked out the spa downstairs and momma took a siesta and now we are just kicking it in the 5 star, since the winds have kicked up to a frenzy and we are not that hungry from our large snack. We have CNN in ten languges in our hotel room, and we watched a little Al - Jazeera just because we are cosmopolitan now that we are in Europe. We`re checking out the weather in all of the EU. It started snowing in Moscow, and The World Rugy Semifinals are on at 1900 GMT between Argentina and South Africa´. hee hee.

We feel very awed by this day and full in our souls. We keep pinching ourselves, we can^t beleive we^re in Greece. We can^t beleive we^ve seen so much of Western culture in a week!

Athens

2007-10-13T11:42:00.000-07:00

I was sick today. I think i^ve caught the little bug spread around by our little friend in Santa Marinella. Ah well... So got a gallon of orange juice from a little side vendor. I slept all morning and felt a bit better when I got up. Good enough to attempt the tram into Athens from Glyfada.

The day is simply divine. The view from our hotel is simply divine. The doors open all the way up so that your whole hotel room is open to the Sarconic Gulf. It is so heart achingly beautiful that it looks fake. There are sailboats. They look fake. We drink in the view. Its like a painting. We want to remember it. We try to take a picture in our minds. We watch all the people eating below our balcony. There goes a guy paragliding from the dock of our hotel. Its so relaxing who would want to get up? I drink about 10 glasses of orange juice, take an excedrin and a fizzy drink of Airborne vitamins for travelling health. I think I can venture forth.

We ask the front door dudes at this 5 Star Hotel how to take bus 114. They tell us to go down to the old guard gate. Huh... Some things are definitely lost in the Greek to American translation. They are not sure what time the bus comes or if you have to have a ticket before you get on the bus. {I read that you do}. So we shrug and take a taxi to the Tram Station in Glyfada. But it is one hour he tells us I take you in taxi for 25 Euros. No, we want to take the Tram because its only 1 Euro.

We hop on Tram 5 to Syntagma square and figure out where the Bus Tickets are. Well, really we ask someone because mom likes to ask people stuff. Its faster. I tell her I like reading stuff to figure it out. We shrug. The Tram Lady tells us we can^t by from her we have to by from the Bus Lady. Where^s That mom asks. Around the corner. We buy a couple of bus tickets. Where^s the metro we ask the bus lady. Across the street. We figure out how to buy those ones and scoot ourselves with all of our three kinds of tickets into the Metro and head to acropoli.

The evening is just beautiful, warm, cool breeze. We stroll down the street and there are lutes and accordian players serenading us on the road. We touch the old stones from the base of the Acropolis and admiring the night view of the parthenon all lit up from below.

We make reservations for Dinner at Daphnes in half an hour and stoll through the Plaka looking at jewely in the shops. The streets are so quant, with little rambling alleys and beautiful big wooden doors. There are balconies everywhere and little flowers hanging from the balconies. All the shops sell greek beads, and vases with greek images on them. Quite quant. Quite! There are all kinds of people from everywhere. Every culture every language we hear swirling around us.

Dinner is in a beautiful outdoor cafe. We have a funny moment where we help ourselves to the wine left from the last diner at our table. Our waiter comes over and starts ýelling at us. NO! That is not the wine left over! That is the wine for everyone! Well it tasted terrible, and they probably didn^t like it and thats why there was half a bottle left. Mom orders greens. We don^t have greens, mr. mean waiter says. We have cold greens. Are they good mom asks? Greens is greens. He barks. Fine! Mom barks back. Well, the greens sucked of course, but my salad of artichockes with stewed carrots and potatoes with dill and lemon sauce was tasty tast. Mom had moussaka? I Think? She loved it. It was light and moussey and light. The courtyard is so lovely and the evening is perfect despite mr mean greens.

We have a slight mishap getting on the wrong tram to the wrong direction before we get back off and figure we better figure out where we are going before we just hop on any train. We wait for the next one, the right one. There are ALL sorts of Greek Teenagers heading out to party on Saturday night on this train, and they are worth the hour long ride to watch them. Everyone wears black. And the HAIR! The hair is the funniest thing of all. It has to be teasted to hell in the crown for the girls, so that it is standing straight up like Marie Antoinette movie, but the bangs are slicked down over the forehead. And the men are just all slicked and gelled up in every direction so that everyone has LArge, large hair. Like at least 4 inches high. But of course they act like the teenagers in rome and teenagers everywhere all giggly and hyper, especally the boys. They have to stand close and they have to be touching each other and hitting each other at all times. They get off at a stop that mom mentions has a sign that announces {Athens number 1 Dance Spot} Ahhhhhhh.... We decide to stay on.

We make it to Glyfada and are ready to use our bus tickets, but alas, our spot does not have the number 114 bus. There evidently seem to be 3 Glyfada stops and the one we got off does not have 114 bus. However, we have managed 2 out of 3 means of public transportation in a town where we know not a soul and can^t read the language so we are MIGHTY proud of ourselves.

We have a celebretory glass of juice and hit the sack! What a beautiful night.

Athens, Greece

2007-10-12T14:29:00.000-07:00

We travelled from Rome to Athens today. We arrived at our hotel to be greeted to the most BEAUTIFUL view of the Sarconic Ocean. The view out of our beautiful hotel is drop dead gorgeous little cove with sailboatsin the distance. We promptly fell asleep and took a nap. i seem to be fighting off the cold from the little boy in Santa marinella. We ate dinner at a lovely local greek restaurant in Glyfada. We were so glad that the menu was half in english,otherwise we would have had to point at something in Greek! The greek, so far, seem like lovely people. We went to eat at 10pm and were amazed everyone was up and eating and drinking a beer and just relaxing the evening away and enjoying.ahhhh. Beautiful!
Good night dear ones,

pds

Piazza Navona

2007-10-11T14:25:00.000-07:00

Today we hit The Colloseum and The Forum. It is always so humbling to see an entire empire that was one of the greatest in history lying around in fallen column and crumbled pieces of beatiful architecture and frieze.

All is ashes, or some such Ecclesiasticus wrote... oh yes, vanity, vanity.. all is vanity

We hit the Trevi fountain to make a wish... THROW the coin over the back of the shoulder to do it properly! Then we hit the mecca of Rome... GELATO! Picolo Fragula... Lucious!

We tooted down past the Pantheon.... Mom's comment was, "I'll never say that a building in Charleston is old again." Since the Pantheon was created in 125 AD. Quite a few years ago. Staggering that this civilation made these things with no cranes or modern methods of construction....

Finally, we alight upon Piazza Navona... Bernini has a few fountains here, people everywhere! Artists on the square. We stop to have a glass of Rossi and some bruscetta and mozarella.. Ymmy! Roma sweet Roma.... Bellisimo! Tomorrow M starts the first day of his class at the Biblicum for his Licentiente in Sacred Scripture and we hit the tracks at 6:30AM YAWN for Athens!

Don't know if I"ll find any internet connection in Greece, but I shall look for a cafe! Buene Notte my dear friends. You are in our hearts!

Ciao,

PDS

St. Peters Square

2007-10-11T04:55:00.000-07:00

Today was Vatican Day -

We hopped aboard the train headed to Roma San Pietro Stazione. What a difference it makes when the train has a little screen that tells you what stop you are at rather than trying to look out the window and catch a glimpse of the little thing as you whiz by...

Anyhoo, we arrived and are meandering our way around Berninis marble columns of the arms that welcome you to St. Peters Square. We stop dead center looking the front of St. Peters Basilica head on.. we are trying to figure out why guards are not letting anyone into the Square... we are wondering if it is the Wednesday weekly audience that the pope gives. After all, it is Wednesday at 12:30. When, Lo and behold a little white blob seems to be at the front door of the basilica, and lo the little white blob is in the popemobile motorizing our way. Wow! Benedecto is in the house! and he's out and about.! I personally, am a little choked up. We didn't really thing we were going to see the papa! We didn't even know he was in town. His little vehicle doesn't make it our way, it turns to the right and heads out the street to disappear behind the Basilica. We see the little white hand up and waving up a storm. I can only imagine his little cute grin on his face. Our hearts are full. What a special little gift we received! We couldn't have timed that one if we tried. The pope himself has come out to welcome us to Vatican City! We smile at each other and continue to meander over to the Vatican Museum.

We are nearly there when we notice that the line to the Museum appears to be wrapped around three blocks. Oh, no, I think. We are never going to get in there today. We'll have to come back tomorrow. Its not quite all the way sunk in that this is the end of the line for the day. The Sistine chapel is the one thing mom wanted to see while on her vacation! Ah la la...

When out of no where, appears a little nymph who asks us, Do you speak English? Yes we blink back at it. (Was it the stupid looks on our faces that gave us away as Americans?) Would you like to bypass all these lines? We have a group tour in English that is just starting up now and the Guide is very knowledgeable and from South Aftica. We blink two times at her and can't seem to form any thoughts in response to this. Finally, I offer, well How much does it cost? Oh sorry, she says its 25 Euros each for the tour and 13 Euros for the standard fare to get into the Vatican museum. Sure I say, damn thats a steal to make a dream happen. We start following her around the crowds, one block, two blocks, she is getting farther and farther ahead of us... My mind starts kicking in now, Is she going to take our money and just run away with it? Are we really super dumb tourists? We get to the head of the line. Suddenly an Italian guard comes over and starts yelling at her in Italian. He is none to pleased. She is yelling back at him and gesturing to us and using the word Bano. She is yelling at him that the guide just went inside and we just missed him. Oh, shit. I think. We are cutting in line. She has no credentials. This is a complete rip off. Grazie I say to the guard. NO GRAZIE !!!!! NO! NO GRAZIE !!! He yells back at me. Oh my, what a pent up little fellow. He runs over to more guards and starts pointing at us an our nymph.. We slip inside before they make it over to us. The Security guards welcome the little nymph, and pull us out of line to quickly pass through security. I start to relax a bit. O.K., the guards inside recognize her perhaps this is somewhat legitimate.

She takes us to our Guide, Grant. Like Cary Grant the nymph beams. There are about 8 other Americans hovering about. He asks us our surname. Which one is that? Erika? I offer. Surname he says, oh Swinburne. He marks down EMILY ,2 next to our name. Ah, the nymph is named Emily. Some names are marked JAMES or JOHN. This is quite the underground Vatican Smuggling ring. "You are welcome to use the restroom, we'll wait for you" Cary Grant offers. We pay Cary Grant, then Mom and I slip out to the 10 minute line. Half way through we look at each other and mutter he is not going to be there when we get back from the restroom is he? Probably not she says. We laugh at ourselves. Amazingly, when we get back up, Cary Grant is still there, and the little nymph has managed to bring another dozen people smuggled through the line while we were in the restroom.

We start our travels. Cary Grant turned about to be the most amazing and knowledgeable guide. He delivered a 30 minute lecture on the Sistine Chapel, the life of Michaelangelo, etc out in the garden where they have pictures of the sistine chapel for group tours to look at. You are not allowed to talk or take pictures in the sistine chapel, so we must discuss it here. He guided us all through the treasures of the museum, which was a 2 hour tour. We had no idea there were so many statues and paintings from antiquity in the museum. Evidently, it was closed to the public and was a private museum and chapel only for the pope until Musollini who created Vatican City made it a stipulation that the public must gain access to the Vatican Museum and Sistine Chapel as part of his negotians with the church in giving them their own country. Something Musolinni did right!

I was completely blown away by the Sistine Chapel. Oh my goodness, it is just as moving as the DAVID in Florence. The 4 year effort he put into this when he was not even a painter, but a sculptor was just extremely moving. It is so amazing how he noticed that the first 3 panels he painted were too small, once the scaffolding was moved away and he made them bigger and bigger moving outwards to the end. I spent 7 heavly minutes with my head bent as far backwards as possible. Mom and I held hands so we wouldn't get separated from each other in the crowd that is standing room only and ushered into the chapel. She would pull me along every minute or so to see the next of the 12 panels in the middle. Lovely!

Then,. one of our favorite parts was leaving the Sistine chapel through the back door, which only Museum guides are allowed to access. It leads down a back stairwell to the steps of St. Peters Basilica. Cary Grant told us that at the conclave after the election of the new pope, the new pope exists that exit and walks down the very steps that we are on to go to the balcony above the entrance of the Basilica tot meet the world. The pope goes to the right to the balcony and we went to the left to exit. Simply amazing .!

We came home to yet another very special treat. A home mass by MACS v ery dear friend Fr. Kim Schreck. He was just ordainened 103 days ago and this was his first home mass in Italy. How special to have this in the home! What a perfect way finish off a spiritual day. Starting with the Pope and ending with one of the churches newest fathers! We were soo so so blessed. He gave us a blessing on our pilgrimage and our visit! Following mass, M opened a bottle of wine and we toasted life and ate a delicious Pasta meal that MAC had prepared. Life is good!! So Good!

Salut!

Santa Marinella, Bella

2007-10-09T16:16:00.000-07:00

Today we spent in Santa Marinella. We went for drinks on the sea, the Mediterranean with some of MACs American Friends, Jeff and Shiela who have been in Rome for 5 years, he is getting a Theology Degree. Their Friend John who reminds me of Joe Languell with his robust theatrically bent who is studying Philosophy and just spent a year in Poland studying the language to better understand JPIIs documents, and another couple who just came. It was just so lovely along this sleeply little Italian Village drinking Itialian beer and participating in a gathering of friends with their children to toast in the coming semester and talk about life.

Then we came back to MACs and went up to the rooftop to watch the sunset over the mediteranean. We are just so amazed to be here in this sleeply l ittle villa. Then it was out for dinner and we had a seafood extravaganza!!! Mussels, clams, octopus and someother things we don't don't what they were but they were marinated in oil and garlic and herbs straight out of the sea and were multo bene. M and I smoked some stogeys on the lovely evening stroll back and finished them out on the terrrace. We decided that we need to have a reunion over the summer when they next visit and invite all of our slacker friends who have moved from Dallas. Yes! the Zinks, Enders, Shanks, Katie Orth, because I can't remember how to spell her crazy last name, Fishers, Reagans et al!

All in all, the perfect way that you want to spend a vacation, lazy days with good food and great company where you feel totally relaxed and can talk about good times and feel among friends and can freely speak your mind on any topic great or trivial!

Tomorrow we venture back out on the trains to go to Roma and the Vatican!

Ciao my friends,

PDS

Full Circle, Roma my sweet city

2007-10-08T20:28:00.000-07:00

Well Friends,

I am back in Roma again! Almost 2 years to the dot! My dear friends MAC have moved an hour outside the city and now rest on the sea. I have yet to see this. I will see it in the morning, once I get over my little bout of insomnia here. Haven't quite adjusted to the time change. C is pregnant again! So funny, She was about this far along last time I visited. Matt and I have broken in a bottle of wine to get the visit started on the right foot. And then some whiskey? Poor C is stuck being sober with us once again.

We spent most of the day travelling, my momma and I, and it was amazingly peaceful and relaxing to be journeying on our own in a country with wich we cannot speak to anyone or read the language. We are damn tired of lugging our luggage on metros, thats for sure. Has anyone noticed that there are stairs and stairs and stairs on European metro stations?. We started the metro/luggage/stair dance in London this morning and ended it in Rome. Most of the day was spent travelling. Anyways we were so proud of ourselves for traveling and finding our way 1 hour outside of Rome on trains with some signs in different languages, strange city, etc. Power to the women!

We both woke up at 4am last night and decided to have a nice little chat. I went out for some cold water in the hallway and momma broke out the cheese and wheat thins she carted from Dallas. I am amazed, because she keeps pulling more and more food articles out of her purse. Its like the magic rabbit out of the purse. We turned on the lights and got all of our sleeplessnes out of our system, then turned out the lights and went back to bed. hee hee.

Rome is much warmer than London and we had quite the pleasant little evening on the Train platform waiting in Trastevere to catch the Citivecchia train out to Santa Marinella. Slight breeze, just watching all the beautiful Italians end their work days and prepare to head home. Mom had some granola bars and carrots for us to snack on, naturally. The Genungs live one cute little street away from the Train Station. So quaint. Feels full circle to be back in Rome with the Genungs again!

Gays and Protests, Livin in London

2007-10-07T20:44:00.000-07:00

momma and I are doing well! We made it into London and are enjoying ourselves thouroughly. Tonight we watched a gay cabaret through the window on our way to the jazz club in SOHO, shortly after attending a gay and lesbian Catholic mass accidently. We only found out after we came outside the church, and folks were gathered outside to protest. A very sweet lesbian woman invited us for chocolate bisquits, but we declined in favor of a Pub instead.

We came out of the metro on Trafalgar square yesterday, where our hotel is, to immediately witness a protest against the dictatorship in Burma. Welcome to London! Everyone was wearing Red Headbands as a sign. Today there were Palestinian protestors against all current leaders. Democracy in progress... We also saw Renoir and Monet in the National Gallery. It was inspiring and beautiful. We took a 2 hour tour and saw the parliament building which is impressive and the London Tower which is like 1,000 years old. Cool stuff. We ate fish and chips tonight for dinner and I had a smokingly good beer.

We are just loving listening to all the cool British accents around us. We are giggling that elevators are called lifts and Exit signs all say "Way out". Our biggest impression, is that it doesn't feel like you are in such a strange country or culture. England feels like home. Its amazing that really our culture in US so so linked from this one. Its really fun just soaking in all the fun little Britishness that is quant little pubs, lots of flowers everywhere in the city and such. I am amazed that almost every young woman is wearing knee high boots. Either tucked into slim jeans or with tights and a miniskirt. Just interesting tis all... Tomorrow we are off for Rome

Its Dog Girl

2006-09-18T23:04:00.000-07:00

So its interesting to see everyone's reaction to Sienna when we walk around the block...

The first is SUPER Walker Woman Ranger.. We've past her several times... with her ipod and her black workout outfit and her middle age short blonde hair most perfectly in place... She doesn't make eye contact, doesn't smile as she passes, and shore enough does NOT flinch when she sees a pit bull coming her way...

Not so the middle school age boys... " Oh MY GOD... A DOG" the yelp as they RUNNNNN at mock 5 over to the other side of the street.. They're not taking any chances... they're more flitter bugger than a squirell... They laugh at each other and saunter on down the sidewalk in their Michael Jordan outfits...

Then somewhere out of the blue,,, comes a toddler little girls voice.... "Look.!!!!!!!!!! A DOGGIE!!! " "HI DOGGIE!" I can't see her, and Sienna doesn't even register her voice, but I feel her love and warmth and half expect to see little short legs come running over to hug Sienna.. What purity of heart the little ones have that they can sense the purity of a dog...

I pass by a house... the lights are low... a shadowy male form passes over the screen door. A low throaty voice cries out." It's Dog Girl" ! Well! I didn't know I was dog girl.... that's a new identity. I don't think he realizes that I can HEAR him through the screen door, much less SEE him out of my night and into His blazing lighted house.. I smile inside. Well, he doesn't even notice Sienna.... He notices... Me! How flattering... That's right. ... that's the new me... DOG GIRL!

Welcome to the Christian Community littlle one

2006-07-29T20:01:00.000-07:00

I think we can all agree that baby Gs welcome into the church was beautiful and exciting. Not to mention just having all the beautiful Gs back in Tejas.

We love you guys! Baby G is awesome and her parents are over the moon

Psalm 170 and Ben Harper preaching on Sunday

2006-06-27T20:16:00.000-07:00

So Sunday's Readings could NOT have been more powerful, eh?

All about life in the storms and trusting in God.

Job - God says I MADE the seas, how could you doubt me
Psalm 170 - Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress; he made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad because they had quiet, and he brought them to their desired haven.
Corinthians - Therefore, if any one is in Christ, he is a new creation; the
old has passed away, behold, the new has come.
Mark - And he awoke and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, "Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?"

I am so struck how God really reaches down to me and says "Peace! Be still". This advice can not come at a better time, as I am so stressed at work that I am having nightmares about my users chasing me all over town with knives to stab me. Hmmm. Work has been so overwhelming that it has felt like a tidal wave has flooded me. My prayer has been simply, "Lord, help me not to drown."

It is still my prayer, but God lets me know that if he can MAKE the oceans then he can surely handle my little problem of too many action items on my to do list, I do beleive. And in the gospel he may as well be speaking directly to me, "Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?" Am I a bad person if the answer to that question is no?

So this past weekend we were in Minnesota for Sus' lovely wedding and the "Tucks to be", PUITA and I were discussing what storms were in our lives, especially work and right at a pregnant pause in the discussion, where we were each silently pondering our own life-storms, from the new Ben Harper CD, Ben echos our sentiments by blasting out,
"Living these days is making me N E R Vous!" So brother Ben, can relate. He is speaking about the war in Iraq, but there are certainly other items in life that make us N E R Vous! So God knows I have many more things that make me figity and He speaks to me to trust in him so that I may have quiet and let him bring me to a safe haven.

So the new Ben Harper CD is AWESOME! This latest go round has some very political expressions on the war and on New Orleans, and it strikes me that he such a great musician, always growing in style and expression and not afraid to be stuck in one musical mold. Also, I beleive that each person has the obligation to express their thoughts and reactions to their times. And most especially an artist. Listen to this video of the first song on the CD. www.benharper.net if the link doesn't work fer ya.

Speaking of New Orleans, Mr. Tuck was telling me that a lot of WINE was broken or abandoned in New Orleans! What Travesty! Now I know there were rescue missions to get the abandoned pets out of the city, but what about the abondoned wine! I think the wine, too, deserves a safe haven and shelter from the storm. Salut.

Whew! What a long stretch

2006-05-08T07:59:00.000-07:00

Hey folks! I know its been a while since I've posted. I took advantage of Lent to go out into the dessert, my blog included. Actually a confluence of events came together.... Work suddently got off the hook busy, where I had done most of my blogging. .... and coming off a breakup of a serious relationship, though I tried to be shiny and happy with my posts, once lent came I could keep up the charade no more. I figured my friends and loved ones really didn't need to read three months worth of the F word, the B word and such.... So anyhoo,,,, I haven't necessarily taken that time to develop deep thoughts, but hope to be back with more of my shallow thoughts on a more regular basis.

People spreading the Salsa Love...

2006-02-14T10:01:00.000-08:00

Look at me! I was captured here with one of my Salsa Classmates from Chicago, "Spreading the Salsa Love" January 27 at our monthly dance practice.

I'm thinking about trying out for the amateur team, though I'm not sure I'm qualified yet, being the beginner that I am. Anyhoo... I'm definitely catching the Salsa bug.

The rhythm is gonna get you.

Sienna, Sit!

2006-02-14T08:54:00.000-08:00

So, (wipes tear from eye) I'm so proud. After 7 days of new puppy ownership and trying to teach a sit command before bestowing dogfood on said puppy: I uttered Sienna Sit! She stood very still, knowing that she was supposed to be obeying in something but not sure what. Usually, I reach down to push her little rump down on the ground. She thinks its playtime when I reach down and we lose all focus from the sitting excercise. But this morning: After looking up at me in confusion for a while, she suddenly had an idea, "I can do this other thing?" And she sits her little puppy self down. I shriek in delight Good Girl! I am still talking about it I am so excited. Now, we probably can't repeat this yet but it is interesting that SOMETHING is getting through!

Yeah, I LOVE being a dog owner!

Who do you love the most

2006-02-07T11:13:00.000-08:00

Who do you love the most!

Here's a story relayed through grandma:

KJ- Daddy gave me a kiss
Granny - That's because Daddy loves you
KJ - Who loves me?
Granny - Mommy and Daddy and Granny love you the most!
KJ - Oh?
Granny - Who do you love the most?
KJ - Erika
Granny - (surprise ) Oh?
KJ - Erika and her friend Carlos came to my house to visit me
Granny - Carlos isn't Erika's friend any more
KJ - Why?
Granny - Because he can't be her friend any more
KJ - Oh. She'll find another friend
Granny - yeah. Let's say our prayers.
KJ - (bowed head) God bless Carlos...

Out of the mouths of babes...

Sienna

2006-02-07T11:05:00.000-08:00

Sienna !
Isn't she just beautiful? Sienna Ivy came home with me this past Saturday and is making her new home with me! She is just gorgeous and such a sweetheart. She's 4 months old and her Daddy is a champion Show Dog. Her momma is a Blue Fawn light grey. She doesn't bark or bite or jump up(moost of the time). We are learning each other's languages and are both eager to make the other one happy! So far we both know we love each other and I think we can get such things as house training, leash training and such worked out soon. The roommates love her and friends love her. And my little neice KJ thinks its funny that she is brown like the color of a leaf.

Deus Caritas

2006-01-25T08:52:00.000-08:00

God is Love

The Holy Father has written his first encylical! Deus Caritas est.

God is Love

Click here to read:

Deus Caritas

The Land of Not O.K.

2006-01-23T10:01:00.000-08:00

How easily we move from the land of Jubilation, then have our visa revoked and are moved back to the Land of not O.K. The Peruvian has informed me this weekend that he's thinking about becoming a priest and he has serious concerns about the amount of time that I spend with my friends and can't see a future with us because of it. I think he is freaking out with nerves but this opinion is not well received by him.

It's not that I don't have a lot of experience in the Land of Not. O.K. Its not that I haven't been told how much I am loved, how much I am wanted to spend the rest of life with and how much I make someone happy only to be told some kaka mayme story that makes no sense less than a month later and now this person never wants to see me again in their whole life.

Which of course, brings me back to my first post on this site. Is it worth the heartache? And I quote my wise single self from back then:

"For His reasons, God has needed to form me and fashion me to have great
strength. He has left me on the potter's wheel for some time. Each relationship
a touch to the clay, a finger narrowing in here, hands widening there. I
question and I search and I step out in adventure with each move a spin of the
potters wheel and each relationship molding my shape until I am crafted just so."
I can look back and know that I have loved as God has asked me to love and that I have been faithful to every movement. And God in is Wisdom has asked me to step out onto the surface to walk on the water to allow me to beleive in him and to fashion and mold me even more into the woman he desires me to be. Let it be done to me according to your will. And the beauty that we create in the process is breathless to behold.

Engagement Season Part II

2006-01-23T09:57:00.000-08:00

Katie is engaged!

I haven't heard the detailed story, only that the lovely Latino Catholic Gentleman she was dating has proposed on her birthday and she's said yes and that he's moving to Denver!

Congratulations girl!

Engagement Season

2006-01-17T14:25:00.000-08:00

Here's some good juice:

1. Tracey engaged January 1 2006! After two years of dating! Her man gathered her for Christmas Present exchange, and THIS YEAR she had a small box with bling inside. He got down on one knee and said he loved her and asked her to marry him. She smiled and was so excited. "You haven't answered me yet" he exclaimed. "Yes" She cried.

This just in...

2. Michele engaged on her birthday, Sunday, January 15! Scott , her boyfriend of two years who lives in Pheonix and was coming in for her birthday. He told her not to plan anything Sunday night after we went to 4:30 mass at St. Annes. Then, when he gets into town he asks her where she wants to go for dinner? She rather testily, says, Scott, you told me not to plan anything for the evening and I haven't, and its my BIRTHDAY so wherever YOU PLAN to go we'll go. Just pick something. She was quite ticked that not only had he told her that there would be "no surprises" on this visit but that he also had not planned anything for her birthday.

The collective gaggle of girlfriends, "we" were also mad at him after hearing this story. We tried to contain ourselves when seeing him at mass. After watching Desperate Housewives Sunday night with her roommate, princess up in the air, I sighed and said despondently, "I'm going to put the phone by bed, in case you hear from Michele, call me." PUITA shook her head, "I don't think there's gonna be any call." "Me neither."

Imagine my delight when at 11:30pm I have a call from PUITA! "No way!" I answer the phone. "Yes!" she screams. We scream, we cry we can't beleive how Scott got us so thrown off the trail. Michele came with Scott to check into his hotel and help him bring his bags up to his room. There is a trail of rose petals leading up to the bed. On the bed, says LOVE spelled out in rose petals. There are gifts for her birthday. And Scott comes out with a Cushion cut loose diamond, gets down on one knee and says," You always make eveyone smile, and two years ago you started making me smile. I want you to make me keep smiling for the rest of our lives, will you marry me. We can shop for the setting together tomorrow." Can I just say, Alleluia!

God is so good....

New Year's Resolutions

2006-01-12T15:25:00.000-08:00

Here are my new years resolutions.

1. Exercise

2. Pray

3. Spend more time cooking

4. Get to work earlier

Five Quirky Things about me...

2006-01-11T09:58:00.000-08:00

Rules: “The first player of this game starts with the topic “five weird habits of yourself,” and people who get tagged need to write an entry about their five weird habits as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose the next five people to be tagged and link to their web journals. Don’t forget to leave a comment in their blog or journal that says “You are tagged” (assuming they take comments) and tell them to read yours.”Yes, I've been tagged. Here goes:Five weird habits about myself:

1. When feet hit the ground, am on my way to the Coffee machine. If one is not close, I go into a controlled panic until I can get my fingers curled around a cup of Joe.

2. My desk at work must be clean, or I feel completely out of control of my entire life and am plunged into the depths of despair. I must have some spot in my life that is in total control.

3. My closet at home is the complete opposite and usually is a state of free for all. You would think that I am trying to turn my closet into a game like those play areas at McDonalds full of balls where you have somewhere to jump into and play around. I must have some spot in my life that is in total disarray.

4. I start drooling and enter a comatose state when listening to good Jazz. That is good information for anyone who wants to rob my house.

5. On an airplane I must sit on the aisle so that I can go to the restroom at least three times a flight. I think I have some phobia left over from being on a roadtrip where no one would stop to go to the restroom.

I am with Cammin that She and V are the only bloggers I know...

Therefore,,, I make my own rule and tag - Melanie, Elizabeth, Tonya, Marcia and Rory. HA! Reply here!

Lone Star Beginnings

2005-12-30T11:05:00.000-08:00

I'm reading Michener's "Texas". My brother gave it to me for Christmas. It is so fascinating to read this historical fiction of the state. The area was actually Mexico for over 200 years before becoming part of the United States. It's so interesting to read how there were some Mexican families who had been living there for over a hundred years before the area became part of the United States. It's also interesting to see how the Spanish conquest played such a part in the identify of Mexico and Tejas, how some families were pure Spanish for many generations and some Native Mexicans and some a mix of the two. I highly recommend for anyone who is a native of Texas. Michener postulations that Tejas would have remained a part of Mexico if it did not have the most Savage Native Americans living in it, the Apache and Comanche. I'm reading now about Stephen F. Austin who leased land to American settlers. I hadn't realized that Austin was a citizen of Mexico. Fascinating stuff!

"I have said that Texas is a state of mind, but I think it is more than that. It is a mystique closely approximating a religion. And this is true to the extent that people either passionately love Texas or passionately hate it and, as in other religions, few people dare to inspect it for fear of losing their bearings in mystery or paradox. But I think there will be little quarrel with my feeling that Texas is one thing. For all its enormous range of space, climate, and physical appearance, and for all the internal squabbles, contentions, and strivings, Texas has a tight cohesiveness perhaps stronger than any other section of America. Rich, poor, Panhandle, Gulf, city, country, Texas is the obsession, the proper study and the passionate possession of all Texans." -John Steinbeck, 1962

Merry Merry Christmas

2005-12-28T16:30:00.000-08:00

Well it was the first Christmas where Kalindi was old enough to be excited about it, and boy was she. "I love Christmas" she proclaimed. We loved it too and it was such a joy to see family and to be together! Sister and Bro-Law are expecting so it was exciting to see a little pooch. It makes us realize how lucky we are to have eath other and to have our health.

More pics!

Click Here for Christmas 2005!

The Rock had no chance

2005-12-15T14:07:00.000-08:00

After..... 3 months of going out to White Rock Lake on Saturday mornings at 8am.... to run for half an hour while my friends PUITA and THE PERUVIAN trained for 3hours plus in training for the WHITE ROCK LAKE MARATHON.... the moment finally arrived on Sunday December 11 to Run the Rock! What exilhiration! What inspiration! I can't say enough now, really on how these two individuals are my heroes for going through what they went through on this day.

As we arrive into the American Airlines Center we call the Peruvian, on the way? Check. We call Puita's brother, Jorge, "On the Way?" Check. He's doing the Half marathon. PUITA has been just the living replica of a Mexican Jumping bean for the past 24 hours... She is a nervous wreck. We pull into a parking spot... suddenly we hear a massive cry from PUITA, " THERE"S FATHER DOUG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!". Our FAVORITE priest from St. Anne's Life Teen Mass, Fr. Doug pulls in front of us to park. He is just cute as a button with his ear piece in as he checks in with whomever he is 10-4ing with on the other end of the wire. PUITA, totally out of character, runs out of the car to tell Fr. Doug we go to St. Anne's and she is running the marathon. "I thought you guys were laughing at me because I had a NY license plate, he tells us". He meanders off wondering why he is being stalked by the Life Teen Paparazzi. However, this is the sign for PUITA that all will be o.k. The Mexican Jumping Bean is gone. She is calm. It is a miracle.

Somehow we manage to find Jorge and the Peruvian in the Din of thousands of people. Jorge meanders off to the half marathon start and the last thing we see is the Peruvian dragging PUITA up close to the 4 Hour pace people.

The Crummster and I spring into action... We have five places on the route to get to and we are off to get to the first cheering station at mile 8. As the folks filter by looking damn strong with these sub 4 hour people, I am just amazed at the human body that could look so fresh and strong for people who have been running for 8 miles. I look like crap after 1 mile! Finally, The Peruvian and PUITA come into the viewfinder of my camera. They look Great! They are laughing and having a good time and they smile and wave at us. How imppressive!

Off to mile 12 at the top of the lake. Here there is a great crowd and we get each other and all the runners all keyed up to where we sound like the cheering section in a small stadium. We have made a narrow corridor for the passers by and someone starts the tradition of high fiving all the runners as they pass. We have a line of twenty hands to high five and the runners seem to particularly enjoy "running this gauntlet..." There is a small moment of crisis when an elderly woman looking very perturbed that her Cadillac cannot pass through the race, actually honks her horn for the runners to move. The Police officer who is chitchatting and not noticing this FLAGRANT transgression of the traffic stoppage seems to not be able to handle this situation, so I run across the course and stop the car with my body waving my arms and yelling at her, " You cannot pass through here.!!!" She shoots me an evil look but she turns and flees and my fans cheer on my bravery. Soon we spy Marybeth's black leggings and black ski hat traipsing our way and she yells at us, "Pray for the Peruvian, he hurt his knee!" The Peruvian is right behind her and just smiles and waves at us. Hmmmmm we are concerned and throw up a prayer for him on our way back to the car.

Lucky for us... there is a Starbucks on the way from mile 12 to mile 16 on the other side of the race and we head straight for it... Ahhhhhhhhh now THIS is what we needed to strengthen our cheering. At mile 16 we are at the part of the lake, Winfrey Point, where we park and head out for training runs for the past 3 months so we feel right at home. (I have drunk many a starbucks coffee here while PUITA and PERUVIAN are out on a long run). Partly from the influx of coffee and partly from our experience of enthusiasm at the previous cheer post, Crummster and I are very hyper at this point and we are making complete spectacles of ourselves as the sole cheerers at this remote outpost. We look around wondering what is wrong with all the other spectators who are just standing there doing nothing. We are dancing and hopping along and yelling solidly for 20 minutes from the time the runner carrying the 3hour 40 minute pace setting ballons to the 3hour 50 ballons then the 4 hour balloons go by. "You own this lake!" "Way to stay sub 4!" "Nice and easy!" "Looking Good!". We know all these chants, and we are entertaining all the runners and all the spectators. Finally our black legginged PUITA comes roaring around the corner. The Peruvian had to drop out, he's hurt. She scoots off. Crummster and I blink and look at each other. We do not know what this means. Is he in need of being picked up? Is he walking? Is he at the medical tent? PUITA is too far gone for us to ask these questions. We know that a medical tent AND a shuttle pickup is right around here so we know the Peruvian will be o.k. and rush off to mile 21 to cheer for PUITA. We hear that this is after the big hill. I know that PUITA will stay focused on the hill, but that mile 22-26 will be the toughest for her becuase she'll start checking out at that time with nothing big to focus on but trying to wait to finish.

By mile 22, the runners between 3hours 40 minutes and 4 hours recognize us now and they are actually waving to us as they pass by. Oh yes, its those crazy chicks.... We remember them... At this point it is now hard to watch these guys. They look like crap. There is pain written all over their faces. Some of the guys have blood all over their shirts where there nipples have rubbed raw on their shirts. We are screaming our lungs out to cheer them on we are just so proud of them even though these people are strangers. It is just so motivating and amazing to watch people who are past the point of exhaustion keep going on and actually whisper "Thank You" to us who are doing nothing but yelling. PUITA comes prancing around the corner looking not even particularly tired. I am amazed. She looks so strong and like a machine. This girl is TOUGH! She hasn't changed her pace for 22 miles! Go GIRL!

Mile 26! We stop on the route a quarter mile from the end. At this point, the folks are done! They are at mile 26.2! but they don't know how close they are to the end, so we scream like hyenas at them to let them know the finish is two turns ahead! They're done! Finally PUITA comes trucking into view. She looks dead. She finally has been caught up with by exhaustion. We run to her and take up one side each and we make such a racket that all the runners behind her and us rally and we all charge for the finish together! She did it and I am SO impressed and amazed. WHAT an accomplishment!

For the next hour and a half we don't know what to do about the PERUVIAN. We don't know where he is? We check the medical tent, no. We check the free beer stands, no. We check voice mail, no. We call his cell phone, no. We are not sure if he drove home already or if we have his key in the car. We head back a quarter mile down the route to our car and who comes into view walking with an ice bag wrapped around his knee? Dear God, he walked the rest of the course from Mile 13. Wow. What an amazing man to be down and out and injured and disappointed and still have the Gutzpah to finish it out and walk the rest of the way injured. I run to him and walk with him the rest of the way, while Crummster gets the car to drive to the finish. I know he's been looking forward to that free beer at the end for 3 months, so we head towards it. The Crummster and PUITAs family head to Cafe Brazil while Peruvian and I get his knee reiced. He is my hero. Not only did he train be ready and run the race. But after injury he kept such a positive attitute and says there will be other marathons and he will begin training again after two months. Not to mention the dedication it took to walk to the finish while in pain and while disapointed. I am just so impressed. With both my friends, what courage and inspiration I draw from them both.

10 Years of Carols

2005-12-08T09:31:00.000-08:00

I couldn't let the week go by without reminicsing on the 10th annual Christmas Caroling Party. It's so hard to beleive that it's been ten years since Ginabop first came up with this exquisite idea as an extension of her own family's Christmas tradition to celebrate the season on the first Saturday of the month. At first we all thought she was certifiably crazy when she came home with Carolling Sheets printed at Kinkos and proclaimed that everyone must bring a home made ornament. But now, after years of caroling in shorts, in down coats, to folks who bring out the kids to folks who shut their drapes when they see us coming, in two different neighborhoods ... and for the first time this year, caroled to a car who stopped to hear us... we have learned to love those same original caroling sheets and now excited voices shouting , "What number next!?" start from the moment we cease singing "We wish you a Merry Christmas..." as we walk away from each house.

I beleive that this year will go down as the "One where we Carolled the Car" or "The One with the best Food" thanks to new roommates adding their dishes (mmmm Salmon Ceviche) to those of old roommates (mmmm Coconut Pufs, Black Bean Salsa and Fudge) "The One where we rolled up the carpet and Salsa Danced." We were so blessed to have new Roommates Friends as well as the Friends and Boyfriends of the girls of the house in OC (Old Coppell, Jessica Doman et al.) I truly thought I was seeing a ghost of Christmas past when I spied Greg Calpaigan leaning against a wall sipping a beer. I literally had to blink and shake my head. He's back in town as a Lawyer! The Rossini's blessed us with their sparkles and Fe and I discovered that we have ever more in common with them including an admiration for interesting barware. The 1202 Addington girls brought the photographers in the Crumm sisters who captured 10 minute video clips of Salsa dancing as well as Irving ISD representatives and their handsome UD classmates. Mary Belew stole the night with her adorable 6 year old twin boys and 4 year old daughter who looks just like her!

The years have brought many changes... from the romances which have and continue to bloom, to the Neids children who have literally grown up coming to every Caroling party to the Spirits of all who have come for many years and now God has called to other cities who come drifting back in with us and hover around us as we Carol and drink some good cheer... I am reminded that this is what celebrating our Community life and celebrating the birth of little Lord Jesus is all a bout. Sparks of light that float and bob in the night and bring joy, cheer and good will to each other and to our neighbors....

True Thanks

2005-12-05T12:07:00.000-08:00

For those of you who have been on the edge of your seats for the past week on whether or not my street flooded and whether or not the Peruvian is still speaking to me after witnessing the Christmas Decorating Controlling side of Roja .... the answer is no and yes!

After registering initial surprise at my insistence on redoing one branch five times with the lights, the Peruvian realized quickly that I approach tree decorating with a level of intensity usually reserved to Gambling addicts. After six hours however, he had me beat at my own game, and raised me one insistence that the angel be a bit lower on the top of the Christmas tree and that the Nativity have a star added to it.

Throw on top of that his checking of the fluids in the Truck before venturing to get the Tree and his idea to rake the top of the bushes after hedging them and we had successfully turned Christmas decorating into a fully competitive sport in which the score was VERY close.

After six phone calls to the city of Irving, I gave up on them and decided what really was so wrong with my yard flooding over into the street. I turned to passive aggressively writing obsenities about the city on the kitchen message board instead. One roommate thought that it made our house seem like we had a moat to protect access from strangers. The Peruvian liked it because now he could easily identify which house was ours. The other roommate, however, decided to take charge as I was obviously flaking out and turning into a crazy person. She started making calls and taking names and notes and finally one day I came home and she had the water turned off, she opened the sprinkler system and showed me where the leak was. Thank God for loved ones in your time of need.

Preparations

2005-11-23T07:41:00.000-08:00

Can't beleive its Thanksgiving! My week is not starting out well... The water meter seems to have a leak that is bubbling up into my grass and spilling out into the street. I am working from home this morning to wait for the plumber. The plumber says that he can't get the water to shut off. He says in 11 years as a plumber he's never seen that and that I have to call the City to tell them I have a leak at the meter. He says that he suspects it is in the sprinkler box. I tell him I had some valves repaired in the sprinkler box and he says that this could be it. So, now I am waiting for the water guy to come and shut off the sprinkler. Then my water will be off and its the day before Thanksgiving and no one will be able to come out to fix it. Grrrrrreat.

For Thanksgiving the Peruvian and I are going over to PUITAs family. Then, our plan is to work on my house all weekend. We're getting ready for the Christmas party next year which means getting a tree, and planting flowers and putting up the lights and hopefully putting up some new light fixtures that I buy tonight! We'll see how that goes, I am so picky about light fixtures. And many other things...

Tonight we are going to Salsa, because it starts at 11PM and goes to 2AM and we can't swing that on our regularly programmed lives, so its a TREAT!

I wish everyone a Happy Thanksgiving and safe travels if you are travelling.

Love
Rojo

Woman on a journey...

2005-11-18T09:08:00.000-08:00

I am pleased to introduce a new Blogger to the Sphere! Our good friend Fe has joined us with an inspiration from Dante's The Divine Comedy. Here is her link!

Cammin

Here is a savory morsel from what I know will be several posts full of philosophical, beauty loving, whimsical, cultural and silly insights from this awesome woman:

Nel mezzo del cammin...
"In the middle of the journey..."

These are the opening words of The Divine Comedy… Dante
Aligheri’s Great literary work about the journey of the pilgrim Dante through
Hell, up the mountain of Purgatory, and finally into the bliss of Heaven. I find myself in the middle of the journey… and so have named my blog.

Violetta, my muse

2005-11-15T14:48:00.000-08:00

Now here is a quote from a lovely 15 year old Catholic homeschooler, Ariom (TwelveOClockScholar),whom I happened upon in the blogsphere who captures so perfectly my feelings for my violin. I named my beautiful new violin Violetta when I was 10. She has been my faithful companion through thick and thin.

But playing music...that is what I love and live for. With any musician, there is a certain ... relationship between the player and his instrument. It can be a good one, or, it can be a bad one. I admit that once and a while I do get fed up with it, but I can truthfully say that I have a good relationship with my violin. It's a very important balance in my life because...well, my instrument is the common sense that I so desperately need. ( Stop laughing Mango :P ) I'm forever rushing ahead, whining when I can't get something right, then falling into the "depths of despair". My violin however, knows better. It teaches me to become patient, and to realize that perseverance is absolutely necessary to success, because it builds strength in one’s character, and also, physical strength. It helps me to remember to slow down and watch what I am doing. Without my violin, I don't know what I'd do.

Does anyone else have a muse? What do you "love and live for?". Books? Writing? Art? Music? Pet? Children? Sister?

Buried Talents

2005-11-14T12:04:00.000-08:00

29 For to every one who has will more be given, and he will have abundance; but from him who has not, even what he has will be taken away.

Matthew 25:14-30

So this Sunday's question follows up nicely on God's message to me in Assisi to help build the Church in Dallas.

We have been given Spiritual gifts by God. Not just a few, but quite a few. Father tells us that a Talent equals Sixteen years of wages. Wow.

However, he rattles me even more with the question, "Looking back over the past year, how have you given of your spiritual talents and have you seen them grow?" Hmmm, does sharing my wine count?

I have been thinkin over the last few years that God would like me to help get some priests in Dallas. As I sit in mass at St. Annes I am brought to tears at some points, and after communion the lady to my right is quietly sniffling. God is moving here, and the reason he is moving here is due to three generous young men. One young twentysomething Franciscan priest who is just cute as a button and so on fire with his preaching and enthusiasm for the faith. One thirtysomething musician who calls down the Holy Spirit in his singing and one thirtysomething Youth Minister who is living on the edge of poverty to have the courage to raise his young family on a church salary. These three men are bringing Christ to thousands of families each week. What a difference three young men are making. We need more of these kinds of men in Dallas.

I glance down at the pew in front of me and see Curtis' new CD. Here is a way to bring a little piece of Sunday home with us and into our personal lives for worship all through the week. Is God calling me to make some music?

I do not know how God is calling me. I know that I have definitely been a ground buryer this year, and God is calling me to dig up the goods. I am open. I am listening. Show me God.

MAC Attack, (aka, that was some good pepe in the zuppa)

2005-11-14T08:49:00.000-08:00

Please read this GORGEOUS post from my Italiana Mama who has started her first BLOG with reflections from our night together in Trastevere in Roma after eating some delicious soup WITH parmesean and pepper!

Here's the link!:

LA MAMA IN ROMA

Here's a snippet:

"C" here of "MAC". I promised Princess Dancing Strings that I would post this and I am now a few weeks delayed! I believe the request came after I spilled out my heart over pasta e fagioli zuppa (with parmesan and red pepper!) at La Tana di Noatri in the beautiful area of Rome called Trastevere. Between the wonderful company of PDS and Puita, the moonlit sky and the charismatic waiter, the ambiance seemed to inspire in me the desire to share my recent feelings on marriage in general and mine, in particular.

2005-11-08T13:23:00.000-08:00

Colloseo

Click Here for my Slideshow!

Farewell to Roma

2005-11-03T17:00:00.000-08:00

Given the work of the past few days we all three sleep close to noon today. It is a relaxing day to be quiet and ponder all we have seen. I blog and drink coffee, C cleans the apartment, PUITA journals and heads to the park for a walk.

PUITA and I head out to say our farewells to the city. It takes me two outfits and two scarfs before I feel I am ready. We are headed on the metro by ourselves for the first time and heading to the Colleseum. Colloseo station. When we arrive I have not eaten anything. I am finally ready to try to order a Panini by self. The pictures up on the wall show a lovely mozarella, basil tomato panini bread sandwhich that is number sixteen. I grap for the map with a handful of words in the back, how do you say sixteen in Italian? I have only ten and six. I choke at the last minute, "Umm SIXTEEN , Diese Sieze? " He immediately switches to English. "UH six TENNA, No A PROBLEM! I GET FOR YOU!"

I am joyously scarfing down my find when I turn to see PUITAS face lit up. "I see it", she says michievously, like she has cheated by looking around at the station. I lean my head over to see outside the station, and that's when you are just completely bowled over. The Colloseum. Rising majestically before you and just so simply across the street while you eat a pannini at the cafeteria counter. The COLLOSEUM! The 2000 year old building you have seen in movies and books and magazines your whole life where the gladiators and christians where fed to lions and each other and it looks like a fake movie set or a Steven Spielburg special effect, but not something you would just glance at across the street when ordering your Paninni, for BLASTED SAKE! Its like opening your front door and just seeing an Egyptian Pyramid or something.

We ginergly cross the street in mystified awe like we have just travelled back in a time machine and are carefully assessing the environment around us. Next to the Colloseum is a majestic looking arch that we must step into the map to determine is Constantines Arch. We slowly and reverently circle the colloseum. It looks just like Texas stadium but you know that it was built in a time where there were no tools, and each brick is layed upon the other. We think about the rendering of how it did look back in its day that we saw in a guide book, with statues inside each arch and wooden beams at the top holding a massive sail that covered the top. There are archways leading into it just in any stadium you go into today and you can so easily imagine all the excited Toga bearing crowds bustling in a probably buying a drink or snack outside just where the souvenir stands are right now.

We move down the main street to the Roman Forum. We are feeling very poetic and reverent as we view all the massive Roman Ruins that are fenced off in the middle of downtown Rome. This is where the Roman Senate building was, a few yards from the massive Colleseum. It is hear that Senators of the most powerful empire of its time and one of the most advanced cultures of its day moved. You look at it now and there are a few gloriously tall, ornate and majestic columns standing. But just next to it there is a such column which has fallen over on its side. Left laying just where it fell, what,,, 300 years ago? 1000? You get the feeling that you are watching the remains of the Titanic or something, some great vessel that has met a ruinous end. Again remembering the GREAT forums that emperors built with such grandeur in the books of how the sites were originally, you see what looks like nothing but a pile of rubble now. Kansas' proverbally "Dust in the Wind". And you have the sense that you are at a graveyard that symbolizes not just the actual fall of Rome but the rise and fall of all powerful civilations of the past and ... present? Superpowers have all ultimately come to this end? What folly for us to think of ourselves as so industructable as if we are the epitomy of YOUTH that think that we will never grow old or have a care for the future.

We walk solemnly to final destination, Piazza Navone... This is the most delightful piazza we have seen yet. And... I am so glad that we came at night. Being the natural night crawler that I am, I find it so incredibly romantic that this whole two block long square is full of local Romans and Tourists alike. There are TWO beautiful statue/fountains on either end of the piazza, and full of Romans sitting on them and talking and discussing. There are artists with paintings scattered all throughout the piazza, and there is a young Roman playing his violin on one end with a Guitar strumming group on the other. And against the buildings outlining the piazza are the cafes with the distant clatter of dishes and voices. There is a slight breeze and the temperature is probably high 70's, just the perfect evening.

What contrast between where we have just come to now! From the echos of histories and peoples vanished, with their piles of rubbles and wrenched foundations with the whisperings of voices call from the few undesturbed pieces of wall or column or intricate scuplutre to this TEEMING, life filled vibrant gathering of pulsing community. It is just the most romantic spot and we stroll gallantly through with our pensive lips giving way to smiles as we join in the life of the piazza. I remember that my camera has video and capture two minutes from this moment of fullness. We must go... MAC are making us a home cooked Italian meal and we are already 10 minutes past the 8PM hour we told them we would be back. We are so reluctant to leave. This is my last sight in Rome. Leaving means there is no more I can see. Leaving means I am on my first step towards Dallas, and I want to stay here with the musicians, artists, sculptures and fountains. I take a deep breath and will my brain to remember everything I see, hear, smell and feel. Goodbye Rome. I whisper. Bye bye... shhhh (bye).

We drag ourselves from the piazza and find a TAXI. "Piazza FIURME" I say for the last time. When we enter the apartment, C has the place "FENGED OUT" with candles and incesne. We move to the kitchen and are so charmed to see MAC with their good Seminarian friend from London, Andy sitting out on the tiny balcony cafe table with two bowls of olives and a platter of Cheeses and Sausages with tiny little Italian cermic plates to place your olive pitts. They are leisuring and talking about what M and Andy are learning in school and thouroghly enjoying themselves at 8PM in the evening. How charming. Why do we not all begin the evening in such a fashion? Why in our hubub life in the States of working and dinnering and laundrying and so forth, with our multi platinum number of square footage houses do we not think to retire to our outdoor cafe for leisurely discourse with freids cheese and olives? I gaze on the scene like its something I always thought to do and have been trying to remember. Here in their tiny little apartment and 2X8 foot patio they are enjoying a more luxuriant and extravagant moment than probably is Bill Gates in his undergound compound. Simple Pleasures. We must take this back home with us. There is only one thing missing from the scene, CHAMPAGNE! I must say as we sip and chat that C whips up the most gorgeous meal of her Rome Tomatoes, sliced and fried into a sauce with pasta that is simply to die for. The Rome Tomatoes are still fresh and juicy and taste nothing of the plastic imposters we find in our local chain grocery. We have also the most Exquisite Sausage. You simply cannot BUY sausage like this in the STates that is at every little side market on the street here in Rome. You can MAKE it, but you cannot buy it. We savor every morsel, both from the table and the company. As I slip under my covers at 3AM with my bags packed and my alarm set for 7AM to catch a 20 hour flight the next morn and sigh and close my eyes and whisper to the Universe... Goodybe Rome. Bye Bye.... bye

Firenze - Day in the life of an Italian Toursist

2005-10-31T14:08:00.000-08:00

This day started at 2AM in the morning in my hotel in Assisi. My throat was on fire with thirst. I realize that I have not had any water ALL DAY!!!! in Assisi. Even including the two hour hike up and down the mountain. We were so happy to have gotten unlost and found our hotel and that the restaurant was open that I ordered a bottle of wine instead and NEVER any aqua naturale.

I am desperate and even drink the water from the bathroom sink (foreign country, not a good idea.) Puita wakes up next to me because she thinks she hears something at the window. We turn on the light. Nope. "I've GOT to get some water." I hopefully meander out the hotel knowing I will not find a vending machine. Nope. I wander all around. I push into the second dining room of the restaruant. A ha! A FULL bottle of water sitting on the table. I proudly bring Puita my "kill" and we gulp down the whole bottle in one swallow.

We are supposed to be going to Firenze on the 9:30 train, but we have three obstacles that we are too tired to care much about.

1: We do not have an alarm clock and I am not one for waking up without one.
2: There is a sign that says you cannot check out until 9:00 am. We most likely cannot checkout, find a taxi, ride the taxi to the train station and get on the train all in half an hour.
3: We are supposed to be meeting C in Firenze and don't know where or when because we cannot figure out how to use the damn phone. We tried all last night and cannot dial their number

7 AM - PUITA wakes me up. Wow, how did she manage to wake up? I am so impressed. While she takes her shower I fiddle around with the phone and somehow manage to call Cristina's cell phone! We will meet at the train station in Firenze at noon. If we miss our train due to the checkin issues we will meet her at 2Pm. Check. Time for 8AM breakfast.

8AM -- We are in a state of bliss drinking our Cafe Latte's and pastries and juice and yogurt. We notice that other individuals have left their wine bottles on the table from the night before, I guess they have a designated table. It is at this point that I realize that I stole someone else's water last night, and... phone call? C wants to know if we can check out yet. We don't know, we were distracted by the Cafe Latte. We ask the waitress. Sure, she can check us out. Hot damn, all our troubles are over. I need another Cafe Latte, per favore.

9AM - We have the cutest little taxi driver. He tells us that he could have been our chichinoro (travel guide) while we were in Assisi and that next time we come he will show us more than just the religious things, he will show us the Roman ruins and other things in Assisi that are not on the travel guides. He tells us it is Pescado that we could only stay one day. We flip thorugh the Italian dictionary ( a pity). He gives us his card for next year when we come.

We sit in the same cafe that only yesterday we felt so foreign and timid in now with a swagger like we are now experienced tourists who can get around anywhere in Assisi. A couple comes up to us and asks if we live in Assisi! Can we tell them places to go. We have visited many of the Franciscan sites, we say. "We were hoping to find some gardens or Roman ruins." they tell us. hmmmm.... I know just the thing I say, and hand them the Chichinero's card. "He can set you up right."

10AM - We caught our train and I am dead asleep on it.

12 -- We arrive in Firenze and puita has to shake me awake, I have been dead as a doornail asleep.

1PM - We have met C at the train! She has a map and she has lots of things for us to see and we are running through the streets with the map. We are distracted by a booth that has Florentine stationary. Puita wants this for her roomy. oh la la it is muy bonita. I grab some for my coworkers who are doing my work for me right at this very moment.

1:30PM - We need lunch before we can go any further. We find a cafe that looks touristy but it is within a rocks throw from the stationary stand so we head towards it. I am becoming addicted to the minestrone soup over here. Must have some of this and puita and I split a tomato, basil and mozarella salad. yum yum yum. I am looking over my should and notice a cute Italiano is a few inches from me. Unbeknownst to me, Puita later tells us that he had been eating lunch further away, but changed tables to be right next to us. His friend joins him. They switch to English to say, "How is your girlfriend"? "You mean my sex?" "Ha ha, yes, your sex in the city!" They think this is very funny, and then switch back to Italian. Were they trying to impress us with this talk? Do they think that all American women are like the ones on Sex in the City? Perhaps they are conducting an experiment. C later talks about price of living in San Francisco, they interrupt her, "You do not like San Francisco?" C screws her face up into the most contemptuous one she can muster, pauses for a dagger killing moment and says curtly, "Yes, I like it." Then we continue on with our own conversation. No sex in this city, boys.

2PM -- We are headed to a museum. This is the one which has Michealangelo's Statue of David in it. The line wraps around the corner, but C has called ahead to make a reservation at 2 and there are only 5 people in this line. This must not be her first time as chichinera! It also has many of Michaelangelo's unfinished works, which are very cool to be able to see the different phases of a statue being made from a piece of marble. He seems to have started with the stomachs fisrt, then the legs and the face last.

There is also a whole room of original casts used for statues which are all around the city. This is very cool. The rest of the museum is of religious works mostly from the 1500's which were originally commissioned for different churches. They are very very beautiful. Different styles, from the early 1400 iconic to the realism..

4PM -- We head towards the cathedral in the center of town. C drops us off and heads out to shop. We head to the tour of the cathedral. We do not know what to expect. We are surprised to find ourselves climbing a very narrow stone staircase. We are even more surprised when we are still climbinb it 5 minutes later. We are surprised to find a beautifully shaped little open window with a spectacular view of the city. We are surprised the 10 minutes into this we are STILL climbing stairs. I am in a piss poor mood now. I do not know why we have payed 6 Euros to torture ourselves and further more... "Oh my God.... We are at the top of the cathedral where we can see the Cathedral's ceiling painting. It has the coolest painting ever. It just knocks the breath out of you. At the bottom are all sorts of scenes of torture by devils in hell and as you get to the top of the domed ceiling you can see the heavenly activities. There are octagonal stained glass windows that are just drop dead gorgeous. You don't mess around with the artists in Florence.

We head toward the exit and next thing you know we are CLIMBING! again! But we are already at the top of the Cathedral! I have now hit my cardio wall. I am panting like a dog in Charleston Summer after a long frisbee tossing fetch session. We finally emerge on the ROOFTOP overlooking all of Florence. Every irritation vanishes as I am overwhelmed with the beauty of the Florence Skyline. Florence is in a Valley, I amazedly think to myself. We have just come from the mountain top and now we are in the valley. The terracotta slate rooftops cover every building and I wonder how old this city is. As I listen to the ever present zoom zoom of the motor scoooters I close my eyes and try to picture what the sounds of the city would have been in Renaissance times and how long it would have taken to walk from one end of the city to the other. This must have seemed like a vast city in those days. It seems vast to me now. There is a silence and almost reverence amongst the rooftop dwellers as we all sit on a bench and ponder our place in history and this world taking in the scenery and memorizing this sight. Slowly we descend and regroup with C. "Oh, I forgot to tell you that there is a bit of a climb involved with this particular sight."

5:00 Shopping Time! - Now the REAL reason C has come to Firenze, and we thought it was to be our Chichinera. We start with an area she has just scoped out that has a huge open air goods market including a leather market. I have been hunting for a purse, and we feel this may be our chance. JACKPOT we all 3 find a purse. I get a beautiful leather flower belt, but depart STEAMING man at the guy for cutting it so that it fits EXACTLY the same as before and my pants are either still falling or giving me a wedgy.

A small stop at the view of the famous bridge over the river. Beautiful! This is what all the paintings of Florence show. I should be appreciating this but I am too busy fighting the urge to take off my belt and throw it in the river.

Next on the list, C knows where "Jewlry Lane" is. It's AMAZING! Silver to the North block and Gold to the South. C gets some good hits but PUITA and I are pretty much done with the shopping for today.

7PM - Our dinner reservation at Marcos. This is MAC's favorite restaurant in ALL of Italy so far, and that is saying a lot for these International Food Afficianados. C gives out his cards to all she meets and I hear rumor that his wife gave C one of her gorgeous Italian Table linens for free. SHhhhhh, Marcos is not supposed to know. We are first in for the evening and Marcos comes to chat with C in Italian for a while. He brings us all a glass of Champagne. The restaurant is so beautiful, and charming with stucco walls and iron metal light fixtues, with an unusual Italian linen runner hanging the length of the ceiling. The menus are beautifully tucked into Florentine Leather jackets. We have Bruschetta and Spinach FORENTINE! (Yes, this is where it comes from, olive oil and garlic.) For the main course Filet! The nightly special of Italian red wine (Yummmm) and the best tira misu anyone has ever tasted ANYWHERE! for desert. We are so moved by the meal, we all three actually have tears in our eyes. Multo Bene. This is what inspires people to kiss the cook.

9PM - Marcos calls us a Taxi to the station and we catch the last train back to Roma. Snoozerina here strikes again on the trip and we catch the bus to Chez Genung around midnight. It has been such a full, beautiful, moving day.

Assisi

2005-10-27T05:55:00.000-07:00

Well this day is definitely going down as one of the most special in my life.

Puita and I are not too sure that we are going to be able to get train tickets and make it to the right city on the right day, but we are game to try.

While standing in the bus line, a kind Agent takes our arm and says I will help you! Assisi a Nove I insturct him. We have our ticket. Firenze tomorrow I tell him. Which turns into a ticket from Rome to Firenzi for tomorrow which will not do. Now we must exchange for Assisi to Firenze and Firenze to Roma. We now have five minutes to find the train. We have NO idea which one. While searching around at the terminal we get lost from each other. I ask an agent, "Treno" and show my ticket. He says something I do not understand at all. Suddently, it hits me what he has said. Due. Track two. I meander that way and bump into PUITA again. I think Due. Well the Due train departs at right time 9:36 but says another city. We shrug and hop on. The conductor announces the cities. Assisi. Alleluia. Five mintues later we are asked to move, we are in somebody elses seat?

We have to trade trains in Foligio. Thankfully there is only one train to choose from. It says Firenze. Again we shrug not knowing if this is the right one or not. In a short while we hear Assisi. Oh happy day we are here. Wow, it is cold and we have no jackets. We order Caffe Latte and Croissants in the station. Find a bus. Try to get on the bus. We were supposed to buy tickets in the magazine shop. He waits for us to buy our tickets. Hey, we are on our way. We head to the Basilica of St. Francis. We see fleece jackets in a shop and snag a few of those. Wow, Assisi is just BEAUTIFUL. It looks like a ski town all nestled into the side of a mountain, but all the buildings are so old and made of stones and ladder step one on top of the other, each peeeking above the other over the valley below. It is the country out here and when you turn to look at the valley below it looks like a fake movie set. There are farm pastures and mist hovering over and little trees here and there with a basilica rising in the distance. The air smells so clean and it is not as loud or busy as the city. It is very very peaceful here. The basilica of St. Frances is so majestic and dwarfs any other close building. It is not ornate as the Vatican. It is more stone but absolutely beautiful. We head inside and move immediately down to the tomb of St. Francis. Wow, all is hushed. We move down, down, down into a crypt with little wooden pews. We buy a few candles to bit lit under his tomb for your intentions. We have come to Assisi to pray for our intentions. We have talked about doing so for a year and now here we are. The moment has come to pray. We shuffle quietly in the line up to his tomb. There it is. Above a tiny altar, nestled in the middle of a stone pillar, his coffin. We kneel on the side of the altar and look up to the remains of this humble, simple man who revolutionized the church with his simplicity in a time of decadence and overindulgence not to different from modern times in general. We pray for our vocations. We bring the intentions of our friends we have carried within our hearts from the US and we lay them at the base of Francis to ask him to present to our lord for us. I had read that Francis had a friend who was a married woman with two children, Jacobi who was Francis' "Veronica". When he was on his deathbed he called for her to be by his side and comfort him as he was dying. She asked to be buried close to him. She was the first secular Franciscan. On our way back out of the crypt I see her headstone. She is directly across from Frances, closer than even Clare. Since she was a married woman, I ask for her to pray for my vocation.

Time for lunch, but a pizza shop is all that is open. Next comes San Damiano. The bus drops us off and we head down this delightful mountain lane with vineyards on either side of us. We are the only ones on the lane. This is so completely beautiful and charming. We take a bizillion pictures on the way. We reach the church. Silenzio signs are everywhere. This was where St. Francis saw Christ speak to him on the Crucifix, "Francis rebuild my church." Also, St. Clare had her first monastery here. We enter the little chapel where Christ spoke to Francis, the Portciuncula. This is such a special building for me because we have a replica of it in Steubenville on the campus, and I have had so many fruitful prayer times there in Ohio. We had the blessed sacrament exposed 24 hours seven days a week there. The "Port" the students all called it. Here I am, in the real port. It does look so similar. Here I am. Where Jesus spoke to Francis, where the Franciscan order began, where the revolution of earnest simplicity began in the church. I am sitting in the EXACT spot. I pray that Jesus will speak to me now and let me know what he desires of me in my life. I pray a decade of the rosary. I gaze up at the huge Franciscan Crucifix into Jesus' eyes and I am held captivated there. It so peaceful and calming to be here with him. After so many grand and spectacular buildings it is calming to be in such a small, simple and intimate spot with Jesus. Alone with him in the mountains of Italy. I don't want to leave. Jesus does not speak to me directly like he did to Francis, but I did feel that what God wants from me is to help him to build the church in Dallas. This is such a Franciscan spirit. I think of the Peruvian and how he started Eucharistic Adoration at his church. He definitely has a heart to help build in the church. He would be a good companion for these efforts. Well, I don't know exactly what God wants me to do, but I pray that when I get back to Dallas he will show me.

We continue walking around the grounds and see the little stone room where all the St. Clares slept on the stone ground, their dormitory. We see the square. Again, what holy ground we are walking on, the same halls as St. Clare and her cloistered nuns. We find lovely watercolors of Assisi in the shop.

Next on our stop is the Basilica of St. Claire, but we miss this stop and get off on the next one, Piazza Matteo. We see on the map that there is a 4KM walk to a remote church where St. Francis lived. This seems like a good idea at the time. We start walking. After 15 minutes I am panting like a dog. What we failed to realize is that we are in the mountains! This will be 2.5 mile hike up gruelling hills, and we are carrying our bags as well as now the stupid paintings. We trudge along a while longer. We have been hiking for 40 minutes now. We don't even know if we are on the right road, there is no sign and no other people at all. Puita is not sure if we are on the right road. Well, we've put this much into I say let's go another 10 minutes and we can turn around if we don't see anything. Puita, who is trianing for a marathon is not even breathing hard. I have reached my limit of physical exertion. I can see now, that she doesn't want to stop. My pace is slowing and at each bend she races ahead to look up to see if she sees anything. We reach the 10 minute mark. It is time to go back. We are both distraught. This is supposed to be a pilgrimage for our vocations. What does it symbolize if we walk a long laborious path but never reach our destinations! Despondently, I say, well let's go to next switchback and see if we see anything. We get there. We have both resolved ourselves that we will turn around, and that the lesson must be that we can't know what is ahead of us. Damn if there is not the very first sign we have seen for the past 45 minutes. EREMO, 1KM. We ARE on the right path. We WILL reach our destination. We are jubilant on so many levels. Puita looks expectantly at me with those big eyes that silently say,"Can you make it?" "I'll take your bag she says." "I can make it 1 more Kilometer I say." The sun is sinking, and we know that we will be hiking back down in the dark. We are slightly worried about this but nothing is going to stop us from making the top of the mountain now. We arrive at the gates of this "little oasis in the woods," the brochure says. There is a group of a half dozen Italians. "Uschita!" they cry out Closed!. You've got to be kidding me. We look at him so despondently as we gasp for breaths. He looks at us and holds up seven fingers. O.K. you have until 7 he must be saying in Italian. It is 6:15. We run inside. This is again, a most glorious spot. It is at the top of the mounatin, nestled into a side of it and the views over the mountain are spectacular. You are in the middle of the woods. We climb into the small little chapel inside. Chiasini de Bernardino. It is no bigger than a dining room. There are two individual kneelers. We each plop down into one and without words bow our heads in prayer. Our hearts are full, we have reached this little oasis in the woods, after a long journey of doubts and exhaustion and irritation and small signs we are here in this intimate spot, where God is telling us that we will meet our destination. We have our picture taken on self timer. We are simply giddy and skipping along. We head back down the mountain in the dark. The Italian man points to the sky and says bella stella. The beautiful stars. Going down is easier, but still work. So, all will not be simplicity once we have found our vocations, we still must work, but its downhill and the stars are beautiful. Half way down a french family picks us up. We tell them we are from Dallas. The boy says the only time I went to dallas was on my trip to Peru. Peru huh? We reach our hotel around 8pm completely exhausted. We plop on our beds and look up. A picture of two pink roses. One is blooming, one is a bud. Hmmm.. Little signs upon the way. A beautiful encouragement to keep climbing though you know not the final destination.

We have dinner in what be the quantest little restaruant in the hotel sole. An Italian man comes over to chat with us. He is an art teacher. He taught at the University of Dallas in Irving! Wow! How amazing and what a small world. He gives us tips on what to see in Firenze the next day. We wish him good night and climb the stairs to our rooms. We have no alarm clock and there is not one in the hotel. We are not sure how we will wake up for our train. We are supposed to meet C in Firenze but we have not made arrangements with her and we cannot figure out how to work the phone. We shrug for the millionth time that day, trusting that thing will work out how they will and we drift off into blessed sleep.

What kind of Mexican are you?

2005-10-27T05:22:00.000-07:00

We slept in and caught up on our rest this morning. In the afternoon we headed out to St. Peter's Square.... C brought us in through the columns entrance. She explains to us that this is how Bernini intended for viewers to enter the square. Since his time, folks have created a big street leading into the square, whereby you see the Vatican from far away and it just gradually keeps getting bigger and bigger, and by the time you get to it you are not too impressed with it any more. However, if you enter through the columns then you see it all at once and you are overwhelmed with the scale and beauty. Also, he intended the round buildings encircling the square to be like mother's arms reaching out to hug her childeren. This is such a beautiful design. And the moment you enter, you just suck in your breath to see such magnificence around you and not to mention that you are in the cradle of life for the Catholic church. The obelisk in the middle marks where the tomb of St. Peters is. Talk about Tradition with a capitol T.

It strikes me after visiting Roman ruins that such a magnificent culture in terms of progress and culture was brought to such absolute ruin in the period of 2000 years. When you see renderings of how magnificent these buildings were its so hard to imagine that they are simply now gone. Nothing but a small pile of rubble now. But the place where the tomb of st. peter is buried is still there. The church is the ultimate culture, and probably will still be there in another 2000. Our culture is simply nothing without Christ.

Walking up to the altar where the Pope has his outside masses, I feel like I am walking over the very steps that John Paul II walked so many times, and also so many pope before him. What Holy ground. Entering, you see the Pieta first off to your right. It strikes me as smaller than I envisioned, but absolutely beautiful to see in 3 dimensions. So feminine and soft. You can feel Mary's gentle spirit just by looking at it. Of course the altar and the Holy Spirit Euchrast Holder thingy by Bernini is spectacular. In no other spot have I ever felt so powerfully the majesty and grandeur of God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Their presence here is palpable. Another favorite spot was some crypt which has a golden skeleton over the door with has an arm reaching out of the crypt, desperately clutching an hourglass. Carpe Diem indeed.

Next we have to visit the "WalMart" of religious artificats to grab keychains, Rosaires, Holy Cards.... etc. We find some delightful Venecian glass and all three get a necklace.

We head to Testavere for dinner. Testavere is on the other side of the Tiber river from "Downtown" Rome and is considered more the artists area. The sun is sinking as we stroll down the little cobblestone alleys. We stop to have a half bottle of wine and little free snacks in a very romantic cafe. It is good to sit and talk about life and the stresses we each have in our work.
We stroll down the street to see the jewelry craft stands. Each stand has their delightful selection and a lantern burning in the middle of their stand. As you look over the selection the guy moves the lantern in the same direction. PUITA and I each get a lovely scarf. I just can't describe how romantic this street is with little lights burning and all the artisians with their goods displayed. Sigh, we are so peaceful. We head to the restaurant. C swears that we must try the veal chop, while she goes for soup. The veal chop tastes like the best pork chop that melts in your mouth you have ever had. Cristina asks for Parmesan cheese in her soup. The waiter gives her a little scowl and says something to her in Italian. "He doesn't want me to combine Parmesan with the soup." C lets us know. The Italians are very particular with what they think goes with each other in terms of food. "Mexicana" I tell the Waiter, shrugging and pointing to C. After a few minutes, he comes back and is waving his hands wildly, "Don't you want pepper in your soup!" "Well you didn't offer me any!" teases C, "Yes, bring me pepper!". "What kind of Mexican ARE you! , no pepper in your soup" he shouts with his hands raised to the sky! We alll nearly fall of our chairs laughing. And for his penance, we make him take a picture of all of us in front of the restaurant!

Princess up in the air

2005-10-24T05:44:00.000-07:00

We picked up princess uita at the airport yesterday. Matt and I brought our coffee on the train with us in the american sized coffee cups and got some strange looks from Romans who can't imagine drinking out of anything larger than a shot glass. She was radiant and gorgeous and excited. We discovered that I had botched communicating the request to have her bring one of the Genungs boxes. The one containing EARPLUGS which now that I have slept a few nights here I can see the need for. The streets are very busy and lots of traffic and car alarms going off and well you know,,,, its a big CITY. Puita keeps saying I"m so Excited, I hope you don't get sick of hearing me say this. "We'll tell you if we do," pipes Matteo, "If we had our earplugs we could use them"!

We head downtown to central Rome for Lunch. MMMMMMMMMMMMM. You know, I'm not really a food lover, kind of a pain in the ass to deal with food severl times a day if you ask me, but this Roman food is even getting me excited about eating. We sat at the most lovely outdoor cafe in the alley and PUITA and I split a bowl of spicy tomato pasta with sausage pizza. Some English couple squeezed into the tables next to us and proceeded to entertain us throughout the meal with their wisecracks and stories. They are on a cruise and Matt translates their lunch request for them. THey offer to pay for our lunch, which I thought was great, but the rest of the crew had their pride.

MAC take us around the corner to show us a gorgeous column with a HUGE statue of St. Paul with his huge sword on the top. I'll have to research this later, but I think the column may be Roman with St. Paul added on top later. Then MAC have to go resume their regularly programmed lives for the day and PUITA and I are left to fend for ourselves.....!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thankfully I have my pop-up map which I bought in Atlanta in honor of JOey on friends, who has such a contraption in London and has to "Step into the map" to figure out whether to turn left or right at any turn. It is extremely groovy and folds back up into my purse to the size of a wallet. PUITA and I remember that it is Sunday and MAC give us many rapido directions on where to go to find a church, and the arm of saint so and so is in the basement and turn at this piazza and see this thing and turn a hard right but not to hard. PUITA and I just blink a few times and stare blankly back at them trying to shake the jetlag from our heads to understand one word that they are saying. Finally, MATT has to step into the map to show me where the church is and we get it now.

We set off to find the church and the door is closed. We circle the hold damn block and try every door of the Gesu but no luck. We are just positive that Cris has told us at some point during the discourse how to get in here and check the times for mass but we simply cannot remember what whe said and we feel like losers as tourists from the get go on our first assignment. We hang our heads then look up in the sky and see several large building with crosses on the top that we feel sure our churches. We wander around and discover the times on the outside of one. Ah ha! The churches close from noon to 4:30. We are NOT losers after all. We see yet another church and wander after it to see if it opens earlier for a mass, but the closer we get to it, the more we cannot see the top and cannot seem to find such an impossibly large building. Scratching our heads we decide to sit down and relax and drink a cafe instead of carrying on with all this church nonsense any longer. We decide to just roam the alleys and lose ourself in the city. It is marvelous. All of the cobblestone streets feel like little hiking paths in a mountain to me. But instead they are streets with little shop doors open to the air and gelato shops every few doors with mountains of European large buildings on each side with the big windows and shutters and flowers hanging on the balconies. This is probably my favorite part of the day. Finally, we spill out onto a large piazza with a big market and it is time to step back into the map to see where we are. Campo di Fiori! Land of the Flowers. a big famous market.

We wander back to Jesu by 4PM and see that mass is not until 7pm. PUITA is starting to hit the jetlag wall having not slept all night and we decide that we need some action to stay awake. We plot out a course to see the Trevi fountain and the Pantheon. O.K. we can remember a few things MAC has said. The Trevi is everything you read about and see about. It is gorgeous. We make our wish and throw our penny over our shoulder backwards and now we just wait for it to come true.

We meander back to the Pantheon and are serenaded by a violin player standing out in the alley here, or an accordian player standing out there. Wonderful Itialian music. There is a brass band at the Pantheon and we marvel at the inside of the single Roman structure left completely intanct that is not a ruin. It has a concerete cast dome with a whole in the ceiling that is amazing to think was built with no modern construction tools.

Mass was.... in Italian.... We are proud of ourselves to have stayed awake through it and even more proud of ourselves that got off of the right bus stop in the dark and remembered how to get back to MACS. We are eating the sausage cheese and olives and can't beleive that we are really in Italy and really get to stay here for a whole week. We are ready to pass out.... Buena Nocha! Good NIght and Good Luck!

Bella Roma

2005-10-23T11:47:00.000-07:00

I arrived in Rome yesterday morning to a beautiful sign from Cristina and Matt for "Veronica". It was just a completely lovely day. I asked for latte and the guy arches his eyebrow at me, "Milk?". "Cafe?" I ask, hopefully? Cafe Latte! he explains. Ah ha! CAFE Latte. Does Starbucks know about this? Rome has an express Train from the airport to the main Train/Bus station downtown known simply as "Termini". It looks like an airport itself. Their little apartment is just beautiful with large long windows that open up to the outside. No bugs. A little balcony. Perfecto! This is our piazza, Cristina announces, Piazzi Fiurne. The box of dishes arrived with me with nothing broken.

We chit chat and head out to get lunch. Piccolo something or other. MMMMMMMMMM! Heaven! Vegetable Anti Pasta with peppers, mushrooms, oinions all marinated and stuffed with a breaded mixture. Marinated Artichokes and a little red wine. The big meal of the day is lunch, I am told.

Next we shop for staples... Water, both kinds.. (?) mozarella, cheese, (mozarella not considered cheese?), olives, sausage, nuts, fruit. I am amazed that it takes a twenty minute discussion to get a few kinds of cheese, and sausage. The lady wants us to try several kind before we decide. She looks at me and guesses , "Americana!" Si,, si,,,, So both kinds of water is sparkling and non sparkling. (oh yes, Pellogrino). A small stop at the wine store.. mmmmmmmm... I am also amazed at Cris and Matt's Italian. They are so fluent!

We dress for a deacon ordination. Cris shows me how to wear a scarf, EVERYONE wears a scarf. There is the cold and not cold way. Not cold, you take your time and around the neck, then a looser tie. The Cold way, fold in half and tuck the ends through the loop. Voila! Most Romans seem to be wearing the cold way. I show Cristina my "Quad", MAC eyeshadow holder. The ordination is at the Cathedral of Peter and Paul for Benedict. Benedict is never there, but it is the Cathedral of Rome. There is the most gorgeous statue of St. Francis and his brothers facing the Cathedral but across the street, must be at least 40 ft high. We have special "invitations" from Chris network of Seminarian friend connections. We sit down. Matt starts thumbing through the Italian program. He looks at me, "This is going to be really long." "It's O.K., I yawn, what two hours"? "Three." "Oh." "In Italian." "Oh." "I'm tired, says Cristina." We look at each other and all get up to leave. We see the Spanish Steps. Groovy. Tons of peeps hanging out here. We see a purse store and head straight for it. I'm looking for purses. The ones I look at are boring and low quality leather. Cris steers me towards the groovy ones. The one I like best has gold trim. Don't know if I can take the gold. "It's really more like brass." Matt says.

We're ready to drink. We find a lovely outdoor cafe and a bottle of vino. There are so many streets that aren't really streets, they are small little cobblestone alleys. The Cafe's are nestled against the alley wall with big white market umbrellas. It's multo charming. Baby G is hungry, so Chris and BG get a bowl of Zuppa.

At home, we must sample Matt's liqueur collection... Multo Bene. Also, we must wear slippers. M&C wear slippers and they have 10 pairs so that all the guests may also wear slippers. We settle into the Living room to talk about the Glory Days in Big D and suddenly there is a beautiful glass of champagne in my hand. Sigh... life simply does not get any better.

Pronto

2005-10-21T13:32:00.000-07:00

I am on my way to Rome. I have stopped off at the Atlanta Airport for a layover. I will be making a pilgrimage to Assisi, and I have started the trip off the same Holy way that I do all of them, PRAYING that I make the flight! If you would like for me to pray for anything for you in Assisi, leave your request on this post and I will bring it to our Brown Clothed Brother!

Ciao Bellas!

Rossi

Because of the full moon...

2005-10-19T17:15:00.000-07:00

Because of the full moon this weekend...
The Peruvian makes his public debut with my coworkers, who know him only as "Salsa Boy". I am cornered at every turn with "He is quite handsome." This seems to be the universal conclusion of all the women in the department. I am quite proud.

Because of the full moon ...
The Peruvian knocks on the door, his car will not start after dropping me off, though we just drove in it for 45 minutes.

Because of the moon..
I loan him my spare truck to drive home.

Because of the full moon this ...
I have received a ninety count bottle of sleeping pills from my mothers aunt and decide to take one.

Because of the full moon..
The Peruvian calls and the truck has broken down half way home. I must go pick him up and I'm fairly sure the bottle said somewhere on it not to mess with heavy equipment or Jeeps or electric bottle openers, or some such.

Because of the full moon...
Following instructions as carefully as always, I meet him out at the Anatole Hotel where he has managed to pull off the side of the road.. We, Ahem, find out the problem. (was minor, we'll leave it at that) only to be suddenly harrased by the security guard who shines his light in my eyes and tells me I was there last night and he knows because he recognizes my red hair?

Because the moon....
We attend 7:30 Mass and the moon has turned that golden yellow/brown... Harvest it is...
and I am so shocked to look next to me and see a man that is handsome who is praying oh so sincerely with his eyes closed and making some Hispanic version of the cross five times plus kiss your fingers at the end sitting next to me. The men who have sat there in the past were neither handsome nor were they paying attention to the proceedings in any form or fashion. My heart takes a leap similar to when I look up and catch one of those moons that is close to the horizon and larger than a house. When I come home, there is a pink rose sitting in a vase from a friend at the door, which is St. Therese's way of letting me know that she's keeping after God for me. My heart is full, and it must be because of the full moon this weekend.

Drowning Rose

2005-10-11T08:28:00.000-07:00

These moments come at the beginning of every month....

Working in a financial department is an ebb and flow that pulses to the commercial world's heart beat... Each compression of this heart brings the blood of my labor rushing and squeezing through the compressed arteries of data moving through deadlines....

Though I realize that losing a million dollars somewhere in the computer is a rather critical thing, I understand not why I must enter into that ritual of working into the wee hours of the night over it. I understand not why some people are worried they will lose their jobs and not be able to support their families over this and it brings out the dark and animalistic side of all involved. Why must I have a row with the person refusing to help me that would make a good Irish pub brawl proud. Maybe the problem here is that I am sober through this process?

Send out an Amber Alert... some data has gone to some wicked end... And so here I sit for the past week in a dawn to dusk search and rescue mission. I am command and control... Calling in the federal agents and the search dogs .... Plotting progress and maps of areas searched and results found. I have my whistle and I am weary.

We have cleaned up this disaster area of most of its debris. The Financial City is breathing a bit easier with all of this progress made. Soon we will be entering the dystole ebb where we go limp from the presusure of the backflush and rest of the heart. Then... we will sit out on our porches and smell in the clean air of the cool mornings of this new season. Then... we will look around and see that each 1 and 0 has nestled into its correct column and we will lift our heads to see that other cities are still rebuilding. These are live cities with hearts of flesh and needs that are personal and we will bow our heads down again to pray for them and to roll up our sleeves to join in the efforts.

Austin City Limits

2005-10-03T16:27:00.000-07:00

Some weekends you just have the need to get out of dodge. Anywhere away from a house that just keeps reminding you of what a failure you are at doing errands. "Umm, by the way, you still don't have a hot water faucet." snoots the sink. "Stand in line," Pipes the garage, "These newspapers to recycle have been piling up since Christmas". "That's gonna be one neked girl if she don't get this laundry up and out of here." quips the bedroom carpet.

One must flee these haunting voices to an apartment that is clean and cool and very far away. At times like these you need your super chill friends. Ones who don't mind meandering about the weekend and aren't glued to their schedules, ones who can dance and drink and stay up late or sleep in late or spontaneously run to the park or hang out for hours on the balcony, whenever you feel like doing it. Enter M, brother of friend Mb, who so gallantly invites us to crash in is place and drive us from spot to spot in the city while bringing us beverages from the bar.

I know our plan is hatching beautifully when on Friday afternoon I can get off of work early despite it being the end of the fiscal month, my People arrives on a Friday, Mb arrives with authentic Mex/Mex for dinner and the Peruvian arrives on time with the car washed and gased. We reach for a glass of Red wine and a spork.

We arrive at the Speakeasy on 5th street around 11pm and the band Mingo Fishtrap http://www.mingofishtrap.comis just getting ready to tune up. At the first soulful belt of a note," Oh Mississippi won't you let me come be free" the horns answer with a melancholic answer. I lean back against the wall with my Negro Modello and a lime and I can now no longer remember my name or my number.

This state of mind lasts into Saturday morning's bagel and balcony lounge, the cool afternoon's natural poolside snooze with spontaneous bongo/cowbell serenade, evening's Authentic Ribs, nighttime's Salsa dancing, Sunday's celebration of the Feast of St. Therese and veneration of her Relics!, ending with the afternoon at The Oasis' spectacular view of Lake Travis in the Hill Country for lunch. What have I done to deserve such company, such peace and such environ of all the senses?

Not until Jeep and I swing into work and I logon to the electronical stream of work email conversations am I reminded once again that I am the one who solves certain probelms and somebody needs a number...

Random 3AM musing

2005-09-28T12:44:00.000-07:00

If it takes you 2 hours to fall asleep at night because you can't stop thinking about things and 2 hours to get out of bed in the morning because you keep hitting the snooze and can't STOP sleeping, then shouldn't we be able to flip this somehow? For Pete's sake isn't that 4 hours of thinking when you should be sleeping and sleeping when you should be thinking! It's like being in the ocean but you can't drink the water. It's like RAIN on your wedding day, it's the free ride when you've already paid. It's the good advice that you JUST didn't take... who would have known.. it figures... a little TOO ironic, dontcha think?

Empty Closets and more

2005-09-27T16:20:00.000-07:00

Sunday was one of those weekend days where you get on a cleaning/laundry tear and the next thing you know you're cleaning out your closet to get rid of shirts you've had since high school, old bridesmaid dresses (Elizabeth... not YOURS) that flannel shirt you never wear but is so comfortable you're convinced you MAY some day soon.

How liberating I now feel.... how in control.... how much more aware of what I DO have now... how much more room for shopping for new clothes I have...

Then father has to go and harp all mass long on the need to "Empty our Hearts...." to make room for what God wants. Hmmmmmm.... Why do I feel set up?

So lets see,,,, what do I have in my heart that I never use or that's been there since high school or is really so not modern any more...

Well.................................. there's all this stress from work... boy talk about an old rag that I NEVER can use for anything ... all this doubt about..ummm.. my life's direction..... I think that matched an old outfit I used to wear.... lack of a usable prayer life.. that's a WORN OUT pair of slippers that are very comfortable. Anger.. that matches Everything! And that crap is just thrown about on the floor and here and there and everywhere I can't really see what I DO have in my heart.

I know how to empty a closet, but how does one go about emptying one's heart exactly? When I cleaned out my closet I went through each thing one by one... yes... no... maybe go... That just seems like an exhausting task to do with my heart. I could pray, "God please empty my heart." This is like the take everything out of the closet and throw it on the floor approach, then decide which things you want to put back in, and burn everything else without having to look at it again. I like this idea.

Or.... perhaps there is a middle ground by quickly grouping everything. This is how I cleaned the linen/junk closet back at my mom's house. All clothes in one pile. All linens in another pile. All papers/pictures in a third pile. This is a Quick Triage approach. Prayer life... what do I do well, what has to go? Work life... what do I do well, what has to go. There's different sections of my heart-closet isn't there?

Father tells me the outcome of all this emptying will be more room for good stuff. God can have room to deliver better stuff in my life ... I can see more clearly my good stuff and not let the bad stuff cloud my vision of myself. I can be liberated ............... I can have more control. Gotta go now... Off to the mall..

Redskins Spoil Ring Party 14-13... Oh What a Night...

2005-09-20T09:11:00.000-07:00

Oh What a night..... Back in September.. 20005...

AFTER NINE YEARS OF HUMILIATION LIVING IN IRVING TEXAS, home of Texas Stadium .....

Where the Redskins had not won a game against the Cowbowys in Texas Stadium for nine years....

REVENGE.... And not just a small piece... We're talking the largest crowd in a decade, 65,000+ on hand for the Cowboys Ring of Honor induction of Jerry's so called triplets... Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith and Michael Irvin.... DENIED !!!!! Makes me want to break out in song.. "Hail to the Redskins, Hail Victory, Braves on the warpath.... FIGHT for 'ol DC" AND with old coach Joe Gibbs at the helm, at the LAST meeting of the 'Skins and the 'Boys in the old Texas Stadium before a new one gets built in Arlington... well life just doesn't get much sweeter. Oh... did I mention... I am watching the game in the Flying Saucer in downtown Fort Worth with a few hundred or so die hard Cowboys fans all around me.... Whooping and Screaming it up, I was, all by my lonesome when Moss catches the 11th hour recption in the end zone... thinking "I may get beat up".

And this is just the dolce half of the lucious meal of an evening...

While searching for a football fan friend to watch the game with, I find a friend who is also looking for someone to join a spontaneous indulgence of having just bought front row tickets to... LYLE LOVETT AND HIS LARGE BAND at Bass Performance hall in downtown Forth Worth... The Jeep and I think its a grand idea and we turn West into the Sunset. Friend is waiting in the car, and as we arrive hands me a cold brown bag that I keep low as we swing past the Police Station and head towards Cow Town.

Now I've never been to Bass Hall but I was amused that this gorgeous new hall with its hand painted dome and spiraling tiers of balconies and muted candelabras at each notch is filled to the brim with Jeans, Cowboy boots, Cowboy hats, Cowboy shirts and a few... Cowboys.

The Large Band is so very aptly named, and not being overly familiar with Lyle, and having pretty much swore off Country music in general, I was a bit amazed that the night kicked off with a brass band and a jazz round robin through all the instrumets. The intro culminated with a spotlight in the back on Ms. luscious Francine who jazzed and bopped and sayshayed her little black bootie up to the front stage to welcome out her four soul brothers who covered a '70s staple "Dinosaur" with so much groove & steam the Soul Train was jealous.

What the hell kind of Country music is this? I asked myself and my wide eyes?

I suppose that had I known Lyle was a Houston Texas native it would have made sense that the progression of Texicana that has a natural slight turn to the Swing would follow that bent and spread into Blues and Swing at its "Large Band" edge while recessing into its Americana folksy story lines at its Ballad roots. All mixed together with Lyles Dry Dry humor... and with a few Gospel Souls thrown on top the evening made for a simply electrifying satisfaction of the musical appetite. You were wiping your eyes on your neighbors shirt one moment, falling off of your chair at Lyles poll of the audience as to which of the individual band members they thought drove a truck the next, and ready to rise up and shout Alleluia and stomp your feet by the end.

At the end of the Show, Lyle comments, "Its been a pretty good day, if you care to know. Started with coconut pie at my favorite diner in the afternoon and ends in Bass Hall with you fine Texan people". With the exception of losing a cutthroat game of checkers in double sudden death overtime, I just couldn't more fully agree.

The Big Easy comes to Dallas

2005-09-14T10:39:00.000-07:00

So yesterday my friend M sends out an email asking for help because he has adopted two sisters 47 and 38 with her 10 year old daughter and put them up in an apartment.

They have been in the Superdome for 6 days and Dallas' Reunion Center for 5. With the 25,000 originally bused into Reunion, only 1,000 have not been placed in someone's home or in an apartment. Those left feel many levels of abandonment and trauma. Why has everyone else found a place to go? M has provided an apartment for them in Oak Cliff, but has run out of funds and they need furniture and "things to make an empty apartment in a new town feel like home".

My soul has been waiting for this email ever since CNN began showing images of chaos and throngs shouting at the cameras, "Help, help, help, help - We're dying out here."

Where is the soul of the home? Why every woman knows the answer to this... The kitchen of course. I can't wait to make my twice weekly pilgrimage to Mecca (Sam's Club) that is so conveniently on my way home and ring up some of those non-stick pots and perhaps a set of Tupperware to get the hearth started in the home.

Once home, as I pass through into the kitchen for a well deserved glass of water, my heart takes a jump as I pass by the watercolor of a Lousianna Bayou on my Dining Room wall. It stops me dead in my tracks and I am consumed with longing and grief. For the place that I have gone to since College for so many spring "Breaks" as refuge from the stoms of my life, where the people have opened their arms to me with a Blue note of soul soothing trumpet or a "Hey Darlin" or a "You gettin thawed out yet?" Those people are hurting now and the achingly beautiful pink bayous of their land have turned against them. It is time for me and our country to turn to our most hospitable people and open our arms with "Hey Darlin." The picture on the wall comes down and is added to the Hearth Pile. What has come from New Orleans must be returned back to it.

Numero Uno

2005-08-29T12:21:00.000-07:00

Wow,

How intimadating to join the Blogsphere.... Surely this couldn't be harder than jumping into the frigid waters in the River in Austin with Thousands of my fellow Triathletes slathered in wetsuits and body numbering....

Just jump...

Splash.....

Water IS cold... Hyperventilating....

Start moving your arms....

So The movie Broken Flowers..... More meaningful to those of us single, and even more meaningful to those of us who have been single for a long while...

Relationships... What do they mean to our lives and what do we leave behind when we walk off into the sunset never to look back but only forward into the next town and adventure. With no other group do we slam our lives into so fiercely only to walk away from so completely. It seems like a Bootcamp shout to the other party, "TWO months soldier, influence my life profoundly, GO!"... What if I were to track down all of my Boyfriends and "check in". Gulp.... Would I be grateful to have passed these trains by? Grateful to have been forced to walk some of these planks?

In my heart of hearts, I know the answer is yes. I know I am like the Blind Woman I saw at mass last night being led by her son through the pews up to communion... bump.... crash.. slam... keep going, steady to the ultimate destination...

And what do these bumps and crashes do for me exactly? Are they oh so necessary to reach that destination. Can't God lead me a bit better around these obstacles?

These bootcamps of interrelation can be like blow torch flames of growth. Who am I, what are my values, what will I compromise on, what value do I give myself, what will I not allow another to dictate about who I am, where am a narrow minded and short of vision, how courageous am I. What occasions you are given to screw down your courage and go for it, speak up, stand for yourself, let things ride when space is needed.

I mean, really, couldn't God have done all this with one relationship? The answer, obviously is no. For His reasons, God has needed to form me and fashion me to have great strength. He has left me on the potter's wheel for some time. Each relationship a touch to the clay, a finger narrowing in here, hands widening there. I question and I search and I step out in adventure with each move a spin of the potters wheel and each relationship molding my shape until I am crafted just so.

2005-07-28T18:35:00.000-07:00

String...