Hallelujah

I've heard about this baby boy
Who's come to earth to bring us joy
And I just want to sing this song to you
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
With every breath I'm singing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

A couple came to Bethlehem
Expecting child, they searched the inn
To find a place for You were coming soon
There was no room for them to stay
So in a manger filled with hay
God's only Son was born, oh Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

The shepherds left their flocks by night
To see this baby wrapped in light
A host of angels led them all to You
It was just as the angels said
You'll find Him in a manger bed
Immanuel and Savior, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

A star shown bright up in the east
To Bethlehem, the wisemen three
Came many miles and journeyed long for You
And to the place at which You were
Their frankincense and gold and myrrh
They gave to You and cried out Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I know You came to rescue me
This baby boy would grow to be
A man and one day die for me and you
My sins would drive the nails in You
That rugged cross was my cross, too
Still every breath You drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

CLOVERTON LYRICS
"A Hallelujah Christmas"
(originally by Leonard Cohen)

The Strawberry Tree

Arbutus is a genus of 11 accepted species of flowering plants in the family Ericaceae, native to warm temperate regions of the Mediterranean, western Europe, the Canary Islands (Teneriffa) and North America. The name is borrowed from Latin, where it referred to A. unedo

Arbutus are small trees or shrubs with red flaking bark and edible red berries. Fruit development is delayed for about five months after pollination, so that flowers appear while the previous year's fruit are ripening.

The Arbutus unedo tree makes up part of the coat of arms (El oso y el madroño, The Bear and the Strawberry Tree) of the city of Madrid, Spain. In the center of the city (Puerta del Sol) there is a statue of a bear eating the fruit of the madroño tree. The image appears on city crests, taxi cabs, man-hole covers, and other city infrastructure.

People have used arbutus bark and leaves to create medicines for colds, stomach problems, and tuberculosis, and even as the basis for contraceptives. 

The fruit is edible but has minimal flavour and is not widely eaten. In Portugal, the fruit is sometimes distilled (legally or not) into a potent brandy known as medronho. In Madrid, the fruit is distilled into madroño, a sweet, fruity liqueur.

We didn't do any of the above with our madroño fruit. We decided to try madroño pie, with madroños and some reineta apples. Why not, right? 

My love's an arbutus is the title of a poem by the Irish writer Alfred Perceval Graves (1846–1931), set to music.

Hasa el Último Hombre

Hasta el Último Hombre - Altamente recomendada.
Normalmente evito películas de guerra y su sangre y violencia como a la peste. Nunca me verás viendo Platoon, La Colina de la Hamburguesa (Hamburger Hill) y me costó mucho ver Salvar al Soldado Ryan. Pero, Hasta el Último Hombre, una historia verdadera de un pacifista que quería servir a su país y salvar vidas, realmente vale la pena.

Una entrada que ha hecho Enrique.

El Gato Maragato

La leyenda del gato maragato

Todo empieza "bajo la protección de una mágica y vetusta encina en el pueblo maragato de Castrillo de los Polvazares," que está cerca de Astorga y a donde hemos ido con mucha frecuencia, haciéndolo muy nuestro. Así, esta historia me resulta entrañable, especialmente al conocer los rincones de las calles y casas del lugar.

Y si has tenido la gran fortuna de vivir en León, conocer a su gente, su habla y sus costumbres, este relato infantil te va a encantar. Vas a sentir muy profundo los olores a jara y tomillo y los sonidos de los grillos. Mercedes no ha dejado de lado ningún detalle.

Esta leyenda trata de una familia arriera, cuando hace muchos años los hombres salían largas temporadas del pueblo con su mercancía y la llevaban a otras partes y a la vuelta traían cosas de otros sitios. Castrillo de los Polvazares era un pueblo de arrieros, comerciantes que dependían de sus burros y mulas. Era un lugar acostumbrado a la ida y a la vuelta de la gente, por lo que los ladrones que en este caso aparecen, se aprovechan de un arriero cuando éste no está en casa.
Te preguntas, ¿qué tiene eso que ver con un gato? Y, ¿cómo es que un gato puede ser tan maragato hasta decir que lo vemos entre las constelaciones? Pero, para eso, tendrás que leer esta leyenda.

Seguro que te gustará tanto como a mí. Y si no fuera poco, termina la leyenda con unas actividades para divertirse; una sopa de letras, un crucigrama y más información sobre la Maragatería y sus habitantes. Es el regalo ideal para deleitar a ese niño especial en tu vida en estas navidades o en cualquier otro momento.

Everything begins "under the protection of a magical and ancient oak in the Maragata village called Castrillo de los Polvazares." Because Castrillo is near Astorga, we have visited frequently and I remember the streets, houses, nooks and crannies as I read, making this children's story especially endearing.

And, if you have had the great fortune to live in Leon at some time in your life, to get to know its people, its way of talking and its customs, this legend will enchant you. You will feel an immediate connection to the smells, the rockrose and thyme and be able to imagine the sounds of crickets. Mercedes hasn't left out a single detail.

The legend deals with an muleteer family, when many years ago the men would leave their villages with their merchandise, take it to other places, and on the return bring things back home to sell. Castrillo de los Polvazares was a village of such muleteers, merchants who depended on their donkeys and mules. It was a place accustomed to the going and the returning of many people, a reason why there were also thieves, such as the ones that appear in this story and try to take advantage of one muleteer's family when he isn't at home.

You wonder, what does any of that have to do with a cat? And how is it that a cat can be so "Maragato" as to say that we see it among the constellations? But, to find out that you will have to read this story for yourself!

I'm sure you'll like it as much as I do. And, as if it weren't enough, the legend ends with some fun activities; a word search, crossword puzzle and additional information about the Maragatería and its inhabitants. It's the ideal gift with which to delight that special child in your life this Christmas or at another special time.

El relato está ilustrado con unas acuarelas preciosas por la artista e ilustradora, Eva del Riego Villazala, cuyos pinceles mágicos pusieron caras e imágenes a La leyenda del gato maragato.

This tale is illustrated wit beautiful watercolours by the artist and illustrator, Eva del Riego Villazala, whose magic paintbrushes put faces and images to The legend of the Maragato Cat.

La autora, Mercedes G. Rojo, nació en Astorga, y dice que su infancia transcurrió entre la ciudad y las tierras maragatas de Castrillo de los Polvazares donde a menudo su imaginación se desbordaba creando historias y personajes que luego pasaron a formar parte de sus relatos y poemas.

The author, Mercedes G. Rojo, was born in Astorga, and says that her childhood was spent between the city (of Astorga) and the Maragata lands, such as Castrillo de los Polvazares, where her imagination overflowed creating stories and characters that form a part of her tales and poems.

Unlike Leaves

"Mientras a nuestro alrededor la naturaleza se desnuda y caen las hojas, la fiesta de todos los santos nos invita a mirar a lo alto; nos recuerda que no estamos destinados a marchitarnos en tierra para siempre, como las hojas."

"While nature is stripping itself and its leaves fall, the festival of All Saints' Day invites us to look up; it reminds us that we are not destined to whither on earth forever, like leaves."

My Saint on All Saints Day

El Silencio

Distance doesn't separate people . . .
Silence does.

No es la distancia que separa a las personas. . . 
sino el silencio.
Jeff Hood