Celebrations

Keoni and Aidan practiced a beloved song that takes its part in my observations and remembrances. Youtube lets me put it here. Cousin Iliana, visiting from Tucson, adds some chords from the piano.





The young people of the household are helping care for the animals. Toby is munching his morning serving of cat food on the porch.

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Opening an envelope, a box, a wonderful smelling oven, thinking of those who are with us, or whom we care for and love who are distances away, those in our hearts that are no more; we are in cascades of what this season brings in its myriad observations, its songs, its remembrances of a vastness beyond all vastnesses.

Beyond the dust fuzzies.

The Gathering

Last night was about the students. I'm glad I went and even more-so by us meeting there as a family to sit with all the other families and students. It took all three of our vehicles to converge, but no worries. All well worth it.

Aidan had long been reporting that he loves his bus driver. Last night, after the vigil's end, we got to meet her and her husband. She is exactly as Aidan described and now I love her, too. What a woman!

Media was there. Here is The Intelligencer's coverage...

Souderton community gathers in vigil for memory and hope - The Intelligencer: Bucks County | Montgomery County | Local news | Breaking News | Sports | Entertainment | Opinion

Today is the eve of Christmas Eve if that is an appropriate designation. Wendy often has a vacuum in her hand recently and helped vacuum my room; I've been that laid up with the nasty cold/cough going around, and through the family. They are all finished with theirs, I think. Knock on wood, the coughing has slowed this morning.

Wendy is taking care of the animals, doing last-minute prep, and readying her plans to go to the airport to pick up the boys' cousin Iliana this afternoon for her week of Christmas with us.

It is quiet this morning--light rain, grey everywhere with the fall browns and yellows soaking on the ground. The bright colors of Christmas poinsettias sit in the windowsills where Wendy set them. From my dining room seat school buses rush by on Ridge Road with Aidan's having been one of the earliest, 6:39 a.m., followed a few minutes later at 6:51 by Keoni's. Toby was ready on the porch when I went out to give him his dry food scoop. He minds the rain.

My coffee is finished. Time to move into the day.

Backing Up a Little to the Day After

A week ago on Tuesday I used writing to help me process the tragic rampage that happened so close by. I shared with some friends nearby and my sisters. Jeanenne posted it on Facebook this morning and you can read it there, or as follows...

Tuesday, December 16, 2014.

Google tells me that I am 24.8 miles away from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, about 47 minutes by car. From Nazareth in lower Gallilee to Bethlehem in the southern part of Judah, as the crow flies, is about 70 miles. Joseph and Mary plodding along the local trails with their burro probably had to cover about 90 miles, more or less. Mary, in the late stage of her pregnancy, was probably not moving very fast. Even with the burro's assistance it was maybe around a week each way.

It is heartening to remember that their story begins a chapter in those important books that chronicle the ancient journey of a people's faith that continues to wend its way through our present lives. Tell the story again! so we remember to hold it close during the times when brokenness visits; when it cannot be ignored.

Yesterday, nearby violence visited six souls now gone from the earth, and a seventh who clings to life today. Violence in all its forms and injustice is visiting in ways that torture the mind. While preparing for Christmas that celebrates goodness and justice, we can recall that Mary and Joseph were heeding the mandate of Ceasar's realm to register themselves for taxation by their oppressor. Their beautiful Son would reach maturity, fulfill storied ancient promises; then, His story would end in violence that brings into brilliant relief the enormous love that transcended it all; that still transcends all the violence, brokenness and injustice there is.

May we all gather strength from that eternal love to bring Him forth in our lives to forgive, rebuild and strengthen again and again and again.

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I know some of you follow differing spiritual paths and quests; yet, I hope you are warmed by the universality of the love that I feel is present in all our lives.

Tonight we'll all go as a family to the high school to attend a vigil and remembrance. Keoni will play music, that universal language, with some of his musician school friends during the observations.

A Fine Ridiculousness

Aidan bowing, Keoni fingering...



The Goddess of Humor visited us. We welcomed her.

Lots else has gone on. I've used up too much time figuring out some video posting links so very briefly...

Aidan played with my church choir's special concert.

There was building that needed to be done.

Would you believe it is already eaten?

Crooked Creek is disturbed.

The neighbor (opposite side of Joe) is making a road down into the woods. Home site?

Where Crooked Creek will go.

There was this year's tree to put up.

Sorting out the decorations.

Angel on top.

Aidan in his Sixth Grade Orchestra last night.

From Carol in Tucson...that reminds me...

Peace on Earth, Good Will to Women and Men.

Black Ribbons

Violence is becoming way too real. The still-at-large, local rampager brings it all so close...again. Gabby Gifford just up the street at the Safeway back in Tucson; the nurses at U of A; in Ferguson, Michael Brown where I was a pre-schooler/grade schooler; Eric Garner at Staten Island. There are too many others.

Keoni says it best for me on Facebook...

"So I rarely post anything political, but I feel the need to express my disbelief that the US is currently a country where a police officer can, unprovoked, choke an unarmed civilian to death without consequences."

Others share with me a conviction that our young people are tomorrow's best hope.

I'm taking a moment right now to honor those lost and those who grieve. May they abide in love.

Firsts

Firsts in our lives are not always memorable, or we wish we didn't remember. Then, there are those that are keepers. Wednesday night, Keoni and the three other members of the quartet drawn from the PYO went to play carols at a Christmas party for women CEOs and/or owners of large chains, around 40 of them, at the Union League of Philadelphia. When the quartet was led through the establishment to the correct room for the party the woman directing them said it was the One Percent party. Keoni thought she was joking and then saw and snapped a picture of the day's agenda...

It went well and they were paid on the spot, then escorted out to the main dining room and told they could order anything they liked on the menu. Keoni who was dressed in his best pants, shirt, tie and vest didn't wear a suit jacket under his winter coat so he was provided one from their huge dinner jacket supply, the smallest of which he reports fit him like a bathrobe. He said it was interesting ordering from a menu with no prices on it. He ate French onion soup, roast duck and chocolate mousse. 

To his credit, he doesn't act a bit spoiled, and today is blissfully trying out a new violin that Mr. de Pasquale (it is his own, his daughter used, then a student) has given him on indefinite loan. Keoni's own marvelous violin is great in small settings, but can't be heard well enough with an orchestra backing him. I can hear the new violin's greater brilliance even from behind my bedroom's closed door.

Aidan Does Chores

Aidan earned his keep on the weekend by doing all his mom's chores; even earned a few bucks for himself. The last outdoor chore on Sunday was getting the large animals into the barn and settled for the night.

First, to go in was Snickerdoodle from his "man" pasture.

The rest of the procession was next.

When Wendy, John and Keoni had taken off on Saturday morning, it was a rainy trip they set out on to Cleveland by way of Philly where Keoni had his usual morning of orchestra practice before points west.

Ready to leave.

The rain is the story again this Tuesday morning. It's making mayhem on the Jersey Shore.

Yesterday, the Indian Valley YMCA was my destination and this morning I have muscles reminding me of what I did. Lots of people in my age group were there to share the activity, and the place was friendly and newer even than the Tucson branch on North La Cholla by the college. Plus, the pool AND enclosure were warm.

The oil man just filled the household reservoir for another month's drain on the dollars. I guess the frackers are happy besides the oil delivery people. I used to think the southwest drain on the dollars for A/C in the summers comparable to the heating bills in the winter of colder climes. Not. Even. Close.

Wonder what the heating bills at the Y are.

For the Birds

What do you call 13 turkeys? A Google search says a Rafter of turkeys, Benjamin Franklin said one should be our National Bird.

It was early morning, and Wendy was about to let the dogs out; then, stopped when she glanced at the pasture.

She kept the dogs in while we watched from the windows for about 15 minutes.

The dogs had been in all night, so she at last let them out. Fancy and Sebastian don't see the turkeys yet...but the turkeys see them and g0 on high alert.

Now the dogs see them and Frezz joins in; they didn't bark, but were galvanized by the exiting "rafter" of turkeys.

Outside doing pasture chores a few mornings ago, Wendy reported seeing Congress' National Bird...a Bald Eagle. The dogs alerted her to look up. They are accustomed to buzzards and are seldom interested in the perpetual circling somewhere in view, but started making noises when the huge eagle came into view.

Soon after the turkeys this morning I was briefly outside and heard geese.

Southbound.

Over in Tucson where inhabitants are experiencing the wonderful, winter season--the reward residents have after Southwestern summers--Carol and Janie have brought their horses back home from summer pasture in Tubac. Here are a few of the pictures Carol sent...

The farrier gets Montana's hoofs ready for the Tucson Mountains' rocks and caliche.

And uses a great new substance to take the place of pads.

Almost ready...just peel away the outer layer...

...and Montana's got an air- and water--proof pad to handle the terrain.

Carol points out the human plus; cuts down on hoof-picking.

Among the pictures she has sent are these from her and Janie's west view that just about make me want to give the bi-polar weather Goddess, still hiding under my bed, a shock treatment.

It is time for a shout out to Terry in Oregon whom I learned awhile back is following this blog. She sent a couple of photos to Carol who shared them with me. One, taken during her evening horse chores beautifully advances today's bird theme.

And, this one is Terry's Oregon view...

It is gratifying and engenders awe that the unseen space we inhabit can connect us with cybers and pixels.

Waste Not, Want Not

Aidan was in good form late Sunday afternoon putting the waning blanket of snow to good use. By Monday morning it was all gone but for sodden piles along driveways, walls and north-facing berms.

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Today, the weather goddess has bi-polar disorder and is in a very grey mood swing. Sometimes she snows and in a few minutes changes to rain.

"Blah!" she says, filling the silence; then, curls back into a fetal position. I wish she'd stay out of my room.

Still, it's better than when she goes to the other extreme of her disorder; then, we get Andrea or worse.

She sees me standing there looking at her.

I ask about her meds.

She glares back and shouts, "Okay, okay. I'm taking them. You want sunny? Look out the window Monday!" Then, she crawls under the bed.

I'll believe her when I see the sun come up on Monday.

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(black snow flakes)