Parador de La Granja de San Idelfonso, Spain In the bleak midwinter Frost wind made moan Earth stood Hard as iron Water like a stone Snow had fallen Snow on snow
Snow on snow In the bleak midwinter Long ago
Our god Heaven cannot hold him Nor earth sustain Heaven and Earth Shall flee away When he comes to reign In the bleak midwinter A stable place sufficed The lord God almighty Jesus Christ
Angels and archangels May have gathered there Cherubim and seraphim Thronged the air But his mother only In her maiden bliss Worshiped the beloved With a kiss
What can I give him Poor as I am? If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb If I were a wise man I would do my part
Yet What I can I give him? Give my heart -Christina Rossetti, English poet, 1872
As a result of tenaciously connecting in the cyberworld when possible with my kids I've began reading the Instagram posts a young travel writer and Executive Editor @Wilderness magazine, Jedediah Jenkins (I don't know if that's his real or pseudonym.) He is poignant, witty and linguistically clever, all of which make me appreciate his photo commentaries sufficiently to take the time to read them in my pitiable shortage of free time.
"The economics of scarcity: the less of something there is, the more precious it becomes. Time..."
I 'd continue by saying that now time spent with those I love is the most important thing ever.
I wait for those split seconds. I save those photos and remember. Sometimes they make me sad, really sad instead of happy because they are simply that, a photoshoot moment that I insisted on, or a maybe second when we all looked happier than we felt. Still, and this is the important thing, we were together in that second. And, regardless, I'm grateful for that.
"How wild is a photo? It captures all the light in a moment of time, and lays it flat to stare at. The opposite of life: it does not move or change. It says look, it was like this once, for a split second, and never will be again."
Ed Sheeran song, Photograph, We keep this love in a photograph We made these memories for ourselves Where our eyes are never closing Hearts are never broken Times forever frozen still.
You all know, I have four wonderful children. You can't know me without knowing that. They are the best of the best, my favourite people in the world. And, I have one wonderful, intelligent, eccentrically fabulous and artistic mom, who is also the best in the world.
And, if you know me, my values and heart, you know, too, that I tried, with everything that was in me to make a home that we could share as a family to last throughout the years. That refuge, however, a no-matter-what-else-in-life-happens place, a home to come back to, and where to grow old together, didn't last.
Instead, we're dispersed; we're all across the country and globe.
Logically, then, Mother's Day looks a lot different than how I imagined it some years ago.
It certainly isn't Sunday brunch. No bouquet of roses on a lace tablecloth. No going out for the day together. No, not one single mimosa coming my direction.
My Mother's Day Gift, instead, is going to be expensive, really expensive, more than ten truckloads of flowers, more than fifty brunch experiences at our favourite restaurants, more than a whole aisle of Mother's Day cards. More than we can afford, really.
Still, there are gifts that you don't look at their price-tag.
"Somebody, how about just more time — and internal permission — to surprise with more spontaneous “Mommy-Holidays!” in the middle of the week and go for ice cream and the park and the beach and the woods... just more time slow down, smile into them, simply enjoy being... "
Yes, I'm giving myself that permission.
"What you really want, desperately, wildly, in spite of everything — is for them to remember the good…. to remember enough of the times you whispered, “I Love You” … to know how many times you broke your heart and how how hard you really tried."
Have you ever read 1000 Gifts?
It's a gift to myself,
from me to them, my kids and mom,
It's a gift that I give, that we give, I with Enrique, my beloved accomplice, companion, and sweet husband.
Flights. Four of them, maybe five. To travel, travel here to us.
Four flights to Spain, to come and hang, to cook together, surf the internet side-by-side, take picnics, pictures and bike rides, and do all the things together that the rest of the year won't permit.
And we can't wait!
Mark, HS graduate, arrives the beginning of June.
Sara leaves her vanwelling to arrive in July. Both will be gone by August, but we will have soaked up as much love and hugs and essence of one another, intensely.
Mom comes here to celebrate her September birthday. We're making it happen, wheelchairs are magical, wonderful things.
Then Risa, candy-cane girl, comes in December.
And, finally, my Army man, Ryan, will join us if military miracles happen.
We will remind each other. every day. how much we love and support the other.
We'll champion one another while we're together. Then we'll promise to do the same thing all theyear long in-between-our-visits times that are now part of our family's fabric.
A Journey of Firsts
Love that transforms forever is born.
My real home - Mom, look what I found *grins* My treasures and my hopes are all beyond the blue Where many many friends and kindred have gone on before And I can't feel at home in this world anymore
Over in Glory land, there is no dying there The saints are shouting victory and singing everywhere I hear the voice of them that I have heard before And I can't feel at home in this world anymore
Oh, lord, you know I have no friend like you If heaven's not my home, oh, lord, what would I do Angels beckon me to heaven's open door And I can't feel at home in this world anymore
Heaven's expecting me, that's one thing I know I fixed it up with Jesus a long time ago He will take me through though I am weak and poor And I can't feel at home in this world anymore
Oh, I have a loving mother over in Glory land I don't expect to stop until I shake her hand She's gone on before, just waiting at heaven's door And I can't feel at home in this world anymore
Oh, lord, you know I have no friend like you If heaven's not my home, oh, lord, what would I do Angels beckon me to heaven's open door And I can't feel at home in this world anymore
So, what do you do when closing hour is announced and due to the crowd jamming the single entrance to the shop, just open for the holidays, you brush against and knock over a large piece of clay handicraft?
With a crash the figure shatters! At first you think it's unsalvageable, but then you see a shepherd's face with a lamb around his neck staring up from the concrete floor.
All eyes are on you. Now some people don't leave the store as they were just minutes before, but wait instead to see the reactions all around. You immediately apologise, of course, wide-eyed. You state you'll pay for the piece, but sense something is still wrong. You weather the looks, the whispers of the Christmas shop attendants who stand staring and the repeat a number of comments, "what a pity," and "that's too bad you did that." In less than a second you feel like a five-year old child who has unwittingly just broken some golden rule of immense penalty.
Your head begins to throb. Somewhere in the conversation that follows and you asking what the piece is worth, you understand that you've just shattered a character in the second largest nativity set in the Manos Unidas shop.
All that comes to your mind at this point is, thank goodness that the broken figure wasn't one of the Holy Family; fragile clay Jesus, Joseph and Mary are still in tact. They might have broken as well, but are whole and lovely. The broken piece is a simple shepherd, with whom I immediately identify. I'm just like him; we share a broken and shattered kinship. And, I like Mary. The Virgin isn't ostentatiously adorned in rich robes and a heavy golden jewelled crown, looking omni-everything, like I see so often. Instead, she makes me smile at her humility and simplicity.
So, what do you do? You pause, breathe, and return later that afternoon with the bills to buy that entire large Peruvian clay nativity. Then, you bring it home and set it in a place of honor, broken and glued shepherd and all.
Pentatonix - Mary Did You Know? Esta es la letra de la canción traducida al español: ¿María sabías?
María, ¿sabías que tu bebé caminaría un día sobre el agua? María, ¿sabías que tu bebé salvaría a nuestros hijos e hijas?
¿Sabías que tu bebé vino para hacerte nueva? Que ese niño que tú diste a luz, pronto te traería a la Luz
María, ¿sabías que tu bebé dará la vista a un hombre ciego? María, ¿sabías que tu bebé calmará una tormenta con su mano?
¿Sabías que tu bebé ha caminado por donde los ángeles pisaron? Que cuando besabas a tu pequeño niño besabas el rostro de Dios.
¿María, sabías? ¿María, sabías?
Los ciegos verán, los sordos oirán Los muertos volverán a vivir Los paralíticos saltarán, Los mudos hablarán las alabanzas del Cordero.
María, ¿sabías que tu bebé es el Señor de toda la creación? María, ¿sabías que tu bebé gobernará un día las naciones?
¿Sabías que tu bebé es el Cordero Perfecto del cielo? Que el Niño dormido que sostienes es el Gran YO SOY.
This Christmas favourite song of broken characters everywhere. It's only Jesus who makes us complete, loved into God's forever family.
¿Qué haces cuando se anuncia la hora de cerrar y debido al atasco en la única entrada de la tienda, solamente abierta para las fiestas, rozas suavemente contra algo y tiras una gran pieza de artesanía de barro? En el accidente la figura se rompe. Al principio crees que es algo insalvable, pero luego ves la cara de un pastor con una oveja en torno a su cuello mirando hacia arriba desde el suelo de hormigón.
Todos los ojos están puestos en ti. Muchas personas ya no salen de la tienda, se apiñaban hacía tan sólo unos minutos, pero ahora esperan a ver las reacciones a su alrededor. Inmediatamente te disculpas, por supuesto y anuncias que pagarás la pieza, pero sientes que algo está siendo incorrecto. Soportas las miradas, los susurros de los empleados de la tienda, abierta especialmente para Navidad, que están de pie mirando, y la repetición de una serie de comentarios, "qué lástima", y "está muy mal lo que hiciste." En menos de un segundo te sientes como un niño de cinco años que, sin saberlo, acaba de romper alguna regla de oro de inmenso castigo.
Tu cabeza empieza a palpitar. En alguna parte de la conversación que sigues, preguntas el valor de la pieza, porque entiendes que acabas de destrozar un personaje del segundo mayor belén de la tienda de Manos Unidas.
Todo lo que te viene a la mente en este momento es: ¡gracias a Dios que la figura rota no es ninguna de la Sagrada Familia! En frágil arcilla, Jesús, José y María están todavía intactos. Podrían haberse roto también, pero están enteros y son encantadores. La pieza rota es un simple pastor, con el que me identifico inmediatamente. Yo soy como él; compartimos un parentesco roto y destrozado. Y me gusta María. La Virgen no está adornada ostentosamente con ricas vestiduras y una pesada corona de joyas de oro, que parece omni-Todo, como ahora veo tan a menudo. En cambio, ésta me hace sonreír por su humildad y sencillez.
Así que, ¿qué haces? Haces una pausa, respiras y regresas esa misma tarde con la factura de la compra de toda esa arcilla peruana navideña. Después los traes a casa y los pones en un lugar de honor, al pastor roto y pegado y a todos.
Our friend, Kay, just sent a message about the piano at her house in Califonia where we will be staying. We inquired about the piano, thinking how great it would be to play again - I, Risa and Mark. Besides her poetic way with words, she has a way of seeing the interesting and lovely in things.
Kay writes, "The piano tuners made beautiful music for an hour after they gave the piano it's final tuning and a new string. It was a wonderful treat. Don't you just love their dress? The long black aprons have Steinway written on the front. A real class act and the kindest men ever! It turns out to be quite a fine instrument. I bought it in 1967, new. I hope you enjoy it."
Enjoy it? Oh, I'm sure we will! Four years have passed since my fingers have touched black and white and they are absolutely itching!
The more experienced dancers have performed at many major events locally, like the living history reenactment of the Roman-Astur Circus in front of more than 5000 people.
Las más experimentadas bailarinas han actuado en muchos grandes eventos de la región, como en la recreación del Circo Astur-Romano delante de más de 5000 personas.
Others of us practice with the core group once a month. It's a time of camaraderie where we learn new steps, but even more importantly share the joy of dancing with one another.
Las otras practicamos con el grupo principal una vez al mes. Es un tiempo de compañerismo en el que aprendemos nuevos pasos, pero aún más importante, compartimos la alegría de bailar todas juntas.
But, nothing could have prepared us for the thrill of tonight's quedada (dance workshop and meal) when we received a surprise class from Kristine Adams, the world-class dancer from San Francisco, California and Fat Chance Belly Dance Troupe, who is doing a three-year world tour, traveling and teaching ATS.
Pero nada nos podría haber preparado para la emoción total de la quedada (taller y cena) este sábado pasado cuando recibimos una clase sorpresa de Kristine Adams, la mundialmente famosa bailarina de primera clase procedente de San Francisco y de la Fat Chance Belly Dance Troupe, quien está haciendo una gira mundial de tres años, viajando y enseñando ATS.
Learning zills (finger cymbals) and technique. It was an unforgettable time!
Aprendiendo los crótalos y técnica. Fue un tiempo inolvidable!
From Limitations and Time. De Limitaciones y Tiempos.
Just Dance. Simplemente Baila.
Dancer Dergin Tokmak (“Stix”), in the middle frame, had polio as a kid and suffered partial paralysis in his legs. That hasn’t stopped him from being inspired and courageous on dance floors around the world. He's someone we all want to be like when we grow up.
Today in many Christian churches we celebrate a sacrament in the liturgical community that is called the Unction of the Sick. It is the recognition and special prayer for those who are ailing, in their old age or possibly at a point of dying. It's a time to ask for special grace over these and to help prepare those who will soon move on to the next life.
Hoy en muchas iglesias cristianas celebramos un sacramento en la comunidad litúrgica que se llama la Unción de los Enfermos. Es el reconocimiento y oración especial para los que se encuentran enfermos, en la edad avanzada o posiblemente cerca de la muerte. Es un momento para pedir una gracia especial, eficaz para fortalecerlos y reconfortarlos en su enfermedad, y prepararlos para su encuentro con Dios.
I open my mouth to the Lord, and I won't turn back Just follow me down to see what the end is gonna be.
Such a beautiful gesture when done with love and for the purpose of comfort. Qué gesto más hermoso cuando se hace con amor y con el propósito de consolar.
Is any among you sick? Let him call for the elders
of the church, and let them pray over him,
anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. ¿Está alguno enfermo entre vosotros? Llame a los ancianos de la iglesia, y oren por él, ungiéndole con aceite en el nombre del Señor.
James-Santiago 5:14
I open my mouth to the Lord And I won't turn back I will go, I shall go To see what the end is gonna be.
Glory to God in these gospel renditions! Be sure to click on both the links, especially the second with the "one man" choir that surprises Simon Cowell during Britain's Got Talent.
Gloria a Dios en estas interpretaciones gospel! No olvides pulsar los enlaces, especialmente el segundo con el coro "de un solo hombre" que le sorprende a Simon Cowell durante el show Britain's Got Talent.
Soon we will have our very own Gospel Concert in Astorga. It will be glorious.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Your perfect love is casting out fear
And even when I'm caught in the middle of the storms of this life
I won't turn back
I know you are near
And I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear?
Whom then shall I fear?
Oh no, You never let go
Through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go
In every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go
Lord, You never let go of me
And I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
A glorious light beyond all compare
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
We'll live to know You here on the earth
Yes, I can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
And there will be an end to these troubles
But until that day comes
Still I will praise You, still I will praise You
Living Easter between two lands is a rich mosaic of traditions, cultures and experiences. Some you bring with you and others you begin adopting in your new country as time passes.
In the process, there are days and times when old memories dance, stroll and hop through your mind like these in California during Easter week...
Vivir la Pascua entre dos tierras es un rico mosaico de
tradiciones, culturas y experiencias. Unas que traes tú y otras que empiezas a adoptar en tu nuevo país según pasa el tiempo.
En el proceso, hay días y momentos cuando viejos recuerdos danzan, pasean y saltan a través de tu mente como estos en California durante la semana de Pascua...
For many years we kept all of the house dark, beginning with extinguishing our candles on the evening of Maundy Thursday Candlelight Service. Then, early Sunday morning when we opened all of the curtains to the light of Easter morning, we were flooded with the feeling of joy, of sunshine and new life. Durante muchos años manteníamos toda la casa oscura a partir de la extinción de las velas en el servicio de la noche del Jueves Santo. Entonces, la madrugada del domingo cuando abríamos todas las cortinas a la luz de la mañana de Pascua, nos inundaba el sentimiento de gozo, sol y vida nueva.
Pollitos de mi prima Connie, recién salidos del huevo este año.
Christians wake with the full awareness that the stone has been rolled away from the grave, and that Jesus, who has been buried and on this third day is no longer dead, but alive and resurrected!We get ready for church, many very early before dawn to go to Sunrise Service, an outside gathering to celebrate the Resurrection by singing hymns and praises and reading scriptures with the rising sun. Los cristianos despiertan con la plena conciencia de que la piedra ha sido removida de la tumba, y que Jesús, que ha sido enterrado, en este tercer día ya no está muerto, sino vivo y resucitado! Nos preparamos para ir a la iglesia, muchos muy temprano, antes del amanecer, para ir al Servicio de la Salida del Sol; un encuentro fuera para celebrar la Resurrección, cantando himnos y alabanzas y leer las Escrituras con el sol naciente.
After church the Easter Bunny would come to our home to hide goodies for the children to find and put into their baskets. Now, some people don't include the Bunny in their traditions, but many do. One comic strip I read today said, "Silly Bunny, Easter is for Jesus." Still, Easter was certainly always about Jesus, and somehow it all made sense. As we are such a blend of peoples and cultures, spring symbols, eggs, chicks and bunnies have endured as part of our celebration of new life, just like the one we have in Christ.
Después de la iglesia el Conejo de Pascua venía a nuestra casa para ocultar chucherías para los niños y que las encuentren y pongan en sus cestas. Ahora algunas personas no incluyen el conejito en sus tradiciones, pero muchos lo hacen. Una tira cómica que leí hoy decía: "conejito tonto, la Pascua es para Jesús". Sin embargo, la Pascua fue sin duda siempre acerca de Jesús, y de alguna manera todo tenía sentido. Como somos una mezcla de pueblos y culturas, los símbolos de la primavera, huevos, pollos y conejos, han perdurado como parte de nuestra celebración de la nueva vida, como la que tenemos en Cristo.
Fwick, nuestro conejo durante varios años.
Los de esta raza tienen los conejitos negros y cambian al gris al crecer.
Of course, I, mother and the Bunny collaborated whether the best time for the hunt was before or after the family meal. The bunny is quite clever to have this worked out his schedule with all of the mothers, don't you think?
Por supuesto, yo, la madre y el Conejo de Pascua hemos colaborado en cuál sea el mejor momento para la búsqueda, si antes o después de la comida familiar. El Conejo es bastante inteligente para tener esto resuelto en su calendario con todas las madres ¿no te parece?
Plantas de girasol sembradas por Mark en la jardinera de su ventana
And so he always visited our garden and delighted all the children with the happy treats he left behind. While he would hide the goodies outside they would stay in a room and sing songs like "Here Comes Peter Cottontail, Coming down the Bunny Trail, Hip-pity Hop-pity, Easter's on It's Way", enough times until all was hidden and they could come out to begin the hunt. It was perhaps a bit ridiculous, but good happy fun.
De modo que siempre visitaba nuestro jardín y encantaba a todos los niños con los convites felices que dejaba atrás. Mientras que él escondía las chucherías fuera, ellos se quedaban en una habitación y cantaban canciones como "Here Comes Peter Cottontail, Coming down the Bunny Trail, Hip-pity Hop-pity, Easter's on It's Way", suficientes veces hasta que todo estaba oculto y ellos podrían salir para comenzar la búsqeda. Quizás era un poco ridículo, pero sano y divertido.
The egg is like the Holy Trinity, a concept of three in one; It is only one egg, but made up of three separate parts just as the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
El huevo es como la Santísima Trinidad, un concepto de tres
en uno, es sólo un huevo, pero está formado por tres partes diferenciadas como
el Padre, el Hijo y Espíritu Santo.
I remember as a child there was always a large plastic egg for each of us with a bit of money in it as well. It was very exciting. Before hiding Easter eggs are boiled, colored and beautifully decorated. They are hidden together with candy and chocolate eggs for the Easter Egg Hunt and to delight all.
Recuerdo que cuando era niña también había un huevo de
plástico grande para cada uno de nosotros con un poco de dinero. Eso era
muy emocionante. Con antelación los huevos de Pascua se cuecen y luego se colorean y
decoran. Están escondidos con dulces y huevos de chocolate para el deleite.
Happy Easter to All!
He is Risen - He is Risen Indeed! ¡Feliz Pascua a todos! Él ha resucitado - ¡En verdad Él ha resucitado!
Mucha gente no se imagina que lo que era el mundo celta había llegado hasta la Península Ibérica. Un ejemplo fue precisamente hoy, después de la misa y chocolate con churros en Sonrisas. Un desfile de bandas de música celebrando la fiesta de Santa Cecilia, patrona de la música, iba precedida por Sartaina, una banda de gaitas. Los quince gaiteros y cuatro percusionistas me hicieron querer bailar un jig en mis ghillies.
Many people never dream that what was once the Celtic world reached down into the Iberian Peninsula. I was reminded of this just today after mass and customary chocolate con churros at the café Sonrisas. Sartaina, a band of fifteen bag-pipers and four drummers preceeded the numerous bands celebrating Saint Cecilia, the patroness of music. Playing a jaunty reel in the plaza they made me want to pick up my ghillies and dance a jig.
Más tarde fue descubierta y su historia registrado que se ve en el cartel arriba y traducida aquí:
Then, yesterday, while walking the remote vineyards and village of Villadecanes in the Bierzo region of León we discovered this placard on the side of an obscure house in ruins. When it was originally being built stones were indiscriminately hauled down from the Astur (one of the Celtic peoples of northern Spain) settlement on the knoll you see below without much interest in the stones' historic past.
Hillforts Asturs to the distant middle-left
Later this stone was discovered and the history recorded on the placard you see as the following: Fragment of a Celtic cross found in
Castroventosa that according to ancient legend was raised at the crossroads
where the Astures would put their sick that hadn’t been cured of their
illnesses, so that if any traveler walking that road knew of their illness he
could grant them a remedy.
En esta foto arriba se puede ver lo que la cruz se parecía en su totalidad. Beautiful! Observe el círculo azul que muestra qué parte de la cruz que está viendo. Las piedras del antiguo castro ástur fueron reutilizados durante siglos para construir la ciudad de Villadecanes. ¿Te puedes imaginar dando un paseo en un lugar de poco interés y encontrando algo que Çtiene más de 1000 años In this photo above you can see what the cross looked like in its entirety. ¡Hermoso! Notice how the blue circle shows which
part of the cross you are looking at. Stones from the ancient hillforts Asturs were reused below after the Roman
conquest to build the town of Villadecanes. Can you imagine taking a walk in an obscure place and coming across something well over a 1000 years old!
La Cruz Celta, también conocida como Cruz Irlandesa o Cruz de Iona combina la tradicional cruz con un anillo que rodea la intersección. Es el símbolo del cristianismo celta, aunque es más antigua, de origen precristiano. Tales cruces forman una parte importante del arte celta. La historia exacta de esta cruz es un poco ambigua, pero se ha sugerido que el círculo interior representa la eternidad y la infinitud del amor de Dios. Además del círculo interior, el elemento que distingue la Cruz Celta de otras cruces es el intrincado trabajo del nudo tallado en la piedra. Tales como el nudo Common Trinity. The Celtic cross, also known as the Irish Cross or Cross of Iona combines the traditional cross with a ring surrounding the intersection. It is
the symbol of Celtic Christianity, though it has older,
pre-Christian origins. Such crosses formed a major part of Celtic Art.
The exact history
of this cross is a bit ambiguous, but it has been suggested that the inner circle represents eternity and the endlessness of God's own love. Besides
the inner circle, the element that distinguishes the Celtic cross from other
crosses is the intricate knot work found carved into the stone. such as the common Trinity Knot.
Lead me to the cross. Next Sunday I will post other crosses we saw on our walk. All beckoning us with their individual story and forgotten history. El próximo domingo pondré otras cruces que vimos en el paseo. Todas llamándonos con su historia individual y olvidada.
