Beagles on the Farm

These are our beagle babies as they were when they just arrived  at "the Farm" (formerly Grandpa and Grandma's place)  They came in a little later, after a long walk, to open gifts and the Big Guy even snuck in a nap.  Little Merry Sunshine irritated the resident labrador and spent her time being kept out of harms way. 

Merry Christmas

     To all we know, and those we especially love, and those we haven't met yet, may God fill you all with blessings this year and lead you ever deeper into His heart.

Happy trails

Hey, Bunny here,

So everybody knows by now about our vacation up in the Canadian Rockies. What everybody might not know, is that I, Bunny, had a birthday en route. So Dad, being the Best Dad in the Whole World promised he would try to get me up on a horse sometime that day (Because he knows I'm a horse fanatic). Unfortunately it was a long day of traveling through the foothills of Montana, and by the time we reached the little town that was our stop for the night a massive dust storm was rolling in. We barely had time to get inside the Pizza Hut (which was seriously one of the most modern buildings in town) before visibility was nil.

Several days later, after we had crawled along a mountainside in Glacier National Park, passed through customs into Canada (a truly harrowing experience for Bird and I, the others thought it was easy), and rolled through the glories of Banff, Dad declared we would rest for one day in the town of Hinton. We had nothing planned for the day except a trip to the laundry-mat.

Suddenly Dad sprung a surprise on me. He had located a ranch, Entrance Ranch, about five miles away that gave trail rides lasting from one to five hours. We decided on two hours, as being not too long, but long enough to see some real scenery and have a good long ride. Unfortunately we forgot to tell the other riders, Dashman, Bonny, and Cousin A, that the ride was going to be longer than half an hour. The ride was scheduled for after lunch and at the appointed time we drove off to the ranch.

Now I've been on trail rides before where the guides treat you like dimwits who can hardly tell one end of the horse from the other. You are herded carefully behind chain link fence and told to wait while extremely bored stable hands lead your worn out pony (who by now could walk the trail backwards and blindfolded) to the mounting block. They practically hold your hand as you mount, then hang onto the lead rope as the others mount. When you pick up the reins they stare at you in amazement and say, "How did you know to do that? Have you ridden before?"

This place was not like those places. A quiet, friendly old Canadian cowboy let us walk right into the barn where the horses stood in four large open stalls big enough to hold two horses. He asked us about our riding experience. We explained that Dashman and I had been taking riding lessons for a few years and Cousin A and Bonny had been on a few trail rides before. As we talked a sleek grey barn cat padded out of the tack room and began to weave among us, begging for someone to pet her. I complied and Dad struggled for several minutes to get a good picture of her.

Me and my Appaloosa "Rocky"

Beginning with Bonny the cowboy began pairing us up with horses, placing her with Buttermilk, a stocky palomino mare I was sure had some draft blood in her. He described her as a good walker, but also a little pushy. Dashman was given Alpine, a stately black horse who was tall enough to accommodate Dashman's long legs. Cousin A mounted Cisco, a flashy red chestnut who had led on the trails long enough to be a steady ride. I believe I got the jackpot, though with Rocky, a scrubby little Appaloosa the cowboy told me could be a little poky. As Dad settled the final issues with liability papers with the cowboy I tried to offer Bonny some advice on the correct position to sit in, how to steer and to always, always keep her heels down. Cousin A later told me that she heard some of what I was saying and wished she could have gotten some advice too, as she felt totally clueless.

The trail started out winding slowly through the woods, the guide first on his horse Prince, then Cousin A on Cisco, Bonny and Buttermilk, Dashman and Alpine, and finally Me and Rocky. Now if you've ever been on a trail ride you know that they usually have two guides, one in front and one in back. I considered it an honor that the guide trusted my riding ability to place me in back. The first hour was fairly uneventful as we walked slowly down the trail that had been walked in so many times it was worn down almost a foot below the rest of the ground. Pine trees towered on either side of us and the forest floor was thickly layered with almost neon green moss.

Anyone who has mastered the faster gaits of horseback riding (ie. trotting, cantering...) knows that just walking along at a steady plod can get really old really fast. I was lucky with my 'poky pony'. Sure he would lag behind a little bit, widening the gap between him and Alpine, but only so that he had the opportunity to trot to catch up. If there were two ways around a certain tree or boulder, Rocky would be sure to take the path the others had not. I couldn't help being delighted that the little horse thought just like I did.

Rat flats and some friendly conversation

Ahead of me the guide, Cousin A and Bonny were engaged in a friendly conversation about the scenery, the horses and what we were doing in Canada. As we passed Rat Flats, a sunken lake that had once been home to hundreds of muskrats, the guide told us that we could trot if we wanted to. I spoke up to ask if we could. Trotting is another one of those things the trail rides at home just don't do. After a few more minutes we climbed back into the thick trees and I figured the fun part of the ride was over, just more plodding until we got back to the barn. I was so wrong.

We were in the Canadian Rockies, okay? So this big mountain looms up in front of us. I thought, 'Oh boy! We get to climb the mountain!' I mean the trail we were on led right up the side of the mountain, straight ahead of us! What did our guide do? He turned. Away. Parallel, not up. Grrrr. We plodded on. Suddenly the guide turned again. This time, we went up. WAY UP! I am not kidding, the trail was almost vertical. I was almost laying on Rocky's neck. Not quite, because the logical part of my brain was saying, 'support your weight, lean forward and rise into a two-point position so that your weight flows down through your heels and doesn't sit on his back.' The rest of my brain was going, 'WHEEEEE! I'M GOING UP A MOUNTAIN ON A HORSE!' As we climbed, we passed the trail I had originally wanted to climb. Let's just say this, if the path we were on was slanted like this - / - the other path was slanted like this- | - yeah, I'm not kidding.

So we finally got to the top and leveled out. A nice straight stretch lay before us and so we got to trot again. On top of a mountain. Cool, huh? After about ten minutes, the trail just suddenly disappeared. Into thin air. And believe me, the air up there was pretty thin. It just walked to the edge of a cliff, and stopped. Sky, trees, and heck of a big drop. What did the guide do? He turned sharply to the the side, and began to climb down a steep slope. To the side of the big drop. Whew.

The view from the ridge.

We were told that the worst was over. The rest of the ride was an undulating trail that took us steadily, but not so abruptly, back up the side of the mountain. At one point we broke through the verge of trees and walked along the edge of a cliff overlooking a spreading vista of the towering neighboring mountains thickly populated with lush pines, the coiling grey snake of the highway and between the mountains the aqua blue river shimmering in the sunlight. We left the cliff and begin a series of u-shaped dips. The horses would pause at the top of each while the horse before climbed out, then they plunged into the dip, going at a fast trot to gain enough momentum to get out again. We started to get tired and Dashman and Bonny's saddles kept sliding to one side. The guide showed them how to readjust, then we continued on our last leg of the ride.

At last we came out of the woods and walked slowly but steadily up the last hill to where the barn was waiting. We ducked our heads as the horses each walked inside and into a separate stall. We dismounted and tied the horses to the feed bins where fresh hay was awaiting them. I asked the guide if I could take off Rocky's saddle and bridle, to which he agreed. The others followed my example and the guide showed us where to hang up the tack. Bonny and I grabbed some brushes lying on shelves outside the stalls and began grooming our horses. The guide told us that we could stay and groom as long as we liked, but to leave the horses in their stalls. Dashman paid him and he left us to cuddle with our mounts. Bonny and I wanted to stay for a while, but Cousin A and Dashman, surprised at having spent two hours on horses and beginning to feel it, opt to leave after taking a couple pictures.

Trail Ponies

Reluctant to leave, I hugged my big cuddly, spotted pony one last time, then hugged the other four horses for good measure. At last we all piled into the car and headed back to Hinton. All of us are saddle-sore and weary, all of us have new stories to tell (how Buttermilk kicked Alpine when he got just a little too close, how Cisco kept trying to take the lead and would get too close to the edge of the cliff, Bonny's discussion with the guide about if Rat Flats should really be called 'Musk Lake' instead or just plain 'Canada'.) and all of us are a little happier for the time we spent.

So if any of you readers happen to go to Hinton, and if you stop by the Entrance Ranch for a trail ride, and you just happen to be mounted on a scrubby little appaloosa named Rocky, give him a big hug from me.

Happy Trails!

Banff Trip

Just a few selected pictures from a recent family excursion into Banff National Park. I know it's Canada, but I'm hazy on which province at the moment. I believe it's Alberta. Enjoy!

Keep the Faith

Here is a quote for all Missionary Saints like ourselves.


"This is the victory which overcometh the world, our faith."---1 John 5:4 



The great theologian Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange illustrates for us how to live this faith . (Formatting is mine to add emphasis)

This firmness of faith ... manifests itself more and more

• by love for the word of God contained in Holy Scripture,  

• by the cult of tradition preserved in the writings of the fathers,  

• by perfect adherence to even the most minute details of the doctrine proposed by the Church,  

• by docility to the directions of the supreme shepherd, the vicar of Jesus Christ.

 This firmness of faith appears especially in the Martyrs, and also, during great conflicts of opinion, in those who, far from vacillating, are capable of sacrificing their self-love in order to keep immutably to the right road.

 EXCERPTS TAKEN FROM THE THREE AGES OF THE INTERIOR LIFE, VOLUME II
HERDER BOOKS, 1948


www.catholictradition.org/Christ/heroic-virtues2.htm

The Feast of Mary the Immaculate Queen of Heaven

Happy Feast Day! What a beautiful feast day!

This is the perfect day to consecrate you and your family to the our Holy Mother and to help you with that I have found two links that will give you ideas on how to go about it.  The first is one that offers a kind of liturgy that you can follow in your domestic church- your home.  The second is all about how to make a shrine in your home.  most often they use cardboard materials and paper but for a more permanent shrine be creative about the materials.  


http://www.catholictradition.org/Mary/mary-immaculate.htm



http://www.catholicculture.org/culture/liturgicalyear/activities/view.cfm?id=1264


Enjoy the blessings of being consecrated to the Mother of God!

A Thought for the Day

One should never deny the body what is due to it, that the body itself may not hinder what is due the soul.
-- St Peter of Alcantara


Read more: http://www.ewtn.com/devotionals/inspiration.htm#21#ixzz1VexdV4ut

I miss home

Home

 by Edgar Guest

It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home,
A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam
Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind,
An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind.
It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be,
How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury;
It ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything.

Home ain't a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;
Afore it's home there's got t' be a heap o' livin' in it;
Within the walls there's got t' be some babies born, and then
Right there ye've got t' bring 'em up t' women good, an' men;
And gradjerly, as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn't part
With anything they ever used -- they've grown into yer heart:
The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore
Ye hoard; an' if ye could ye'd keep the thumb marks on the door.

Ye've got t' weep t' make it home, ye've got t' sit an' sigh
An' watch beside a loved one's bed, an' know that Death is nigh;
An' in the stillness o' the night t' see Death's angel come,
An' close the eyes o' her that smiled, 
an' leave her sweet voice dumb.
Fer these are scenes that grip the heart, 
an' when yer tears are dried,
Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an' sanctified;
An' tuggin' at ye always are the pleasant memories 
O' her that was an' is no more -- ye can't escape from these.

Ye've got t' sing an' dance fer years, ye've got t' romp an' play,
An' learn t' love the things ye have by usin' 'em each day;
Even the roses 'round the porch must blossom year by year
Afore they 'come a part o' ye, suggestin' someone dear
Who used t' love 'em long ago, an' trained 'em jes' t' run
The way they do, so's they would get the early mornin' sun;
Ye've got t' love each brick an' stone from cellar up t' dome:
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.

Happy 130th Birthday Edgar 

A Reading From Jean-Pierre de Caussade S.J.

This was the Day by Day Reading for Sunday the 14th in the August Magnificat:
"Shall I never succeed with the help of grace in instilling into you mind and still more into your heart this great principle of faith, so sweet, so consoling, so loving, and so pacifying? We ought often to pray: My God, may all Your most holy intentions be accomplished in me and never my own; may they be accomplished because while infinitely just in themselves they are also infinitely advantageous for me. I know that You can will only the greatest good of Your creatures so long as they remain submissive to Your orders. May my own will never be accomplished except when it is in perfect agreement with Yours because otherwise it can only be harmful to me. If ever, my God, it should happen through ignorance or passion that I persist in desires contrary to Yours, may I be disappointed and punished, not by Your justice, but by Your pity and great mercy.
Come what may, as Saint Francis de Sales used to say, Long live Jesus! I shall take sides with Divine Providence even if human wisdom tear out her hair with rage. When one is illuminated by heavenly light, one thinks very differently from most men, but what a source of peace, what power one finds in this way of thinking and looking at things! How happy are the saints, how peacefully they live, and what miserable blind fools we are not to be willing to train ourselves to think as they do, preferring to be entombed in the thick darkness of this accursed human wisdom which makes us so wretched, blind, and guilty. Let us study how to give all our care and attention to the task of conforming ourselves in all things to the holy will of God in spite of interior revolt. That revolt itself must be accepted in obedience to the will of God which permits it in order to accustom us to remain at all times and in all circumstances before Him in a state of sacrifice by even an interior silence of respect, adoration, self-annihilation, submission and love, and with a self-abandonment full of confidence.
-Father Jean-Pierre de Caussade, S.J.

A tragic tail

Here is a little story I made up about our two beagles:

Once upon a time, in a land not too far from where you're sitting, a young beagle named Rodeo was unhappy. He had all his heart could ever desire, food, people, cush, but one thing he lacked: True Friendliness. There were no pretty doggies to impress with his handsome figure and melting brown eyes (to melt them with, of course).
The ditzy blonde giant next door didn't count. Moist lips are one thing, endless slobber quite another!
Then, one fine day, Rodeo's family took him on a long journey. When at last they stopped it was growing dark. Rodeo was excited because he could smell rabbits.
Suddenly his heart gave a great leap. Standing before the door of another castle was the most beautiful angel he had ever seen. Tiny, but still quite beautiful. Her name, was Judy-pet.
"Come with me and live at my castle!" he called out to her.
"I haven't taken basic obedience training yet," she said, sitting down to scratch her ear, "so I'm afraid I won't come unless you give me a good reason to."
"Uh..." Rodeo was taken aback. "I have a nice yard? And my family is nice. And the food isn't half bad. And there are two really cushy sofas you can lay on when nobody is looking. Not to mention you can spend all your time with a stylish, handsome, totally lovable beagle boy!"
Judy-pet pricked her ears. "Who?"
"Well, me of course!" cried Rodeo. "Who did you think?"
"Dunno," she shrugged.
Just then Rodeo's family picked up Judy-pet and started to cuddle with her. After a few minutes they set her down.
"Whatever," She said, "your family is nice, so I guess I'll come."
And so Judy-pet became a fixture in Rodeo's life until he could hardly remember life without her. Together they stole naps on the sofa, they ate standing side by side, and she grew terribly good at his favorite game, (You want it, I have it) until she could win almost every time. They had their spatz, what couple doesn't? And if Rodeo's chewy bone seemed more tasty at the time- or Judy-pet's favorite squeaky bunny just happened to be the first toy Rodeo picked up- what of it?
Suddenly, one day Judy-pet fell sick, and the family took her away. Rodeo realized then, that his feelings for Judy-pet had blossomed into love. Sadly, when she returned, his cruel family, instead of letting him rush to her side, chose to part them. Mournfully he called to her through the bars of his cell (true, it was a large cell where they prepared the food, but what is food compared to love?) and Judy-pet came hobbling to join him.
And through the bars they confessed their mutual love.
"They have separated us forever, though," moaned Rodeo.
"There is only one thing left to do," declared Judy-pet.
"What is that?" asked Rodeo, tenderly licking her ear.
"We must eat poisoned treats so that we might be joined in death."
Rodeo shook his head sceptically. "No good," he said, "I ate lily bulbs as a puppy, if that didn't kill me nothing will."
"Then we are lost to each other!" cried Judy-pet, and throwing back her head she howled out her misery. Then she turned and limped back to her bed.
Rodeo lay down and sadly gazed after her, moaning out his heartbreak until at last sleep claimed him.
When morning came at last, Rodeo was awoken by the sound of Judy-pet's jewelery tinkling merrily as she pranced out of bed.
"Judy-pet!" cried Rodeo, "You're better!"
She stopped and considered for a moment. "I do feel better!" she declared.
Suddenly, Oh Great Joy! Rodeo's cell was opened and he bounded to her side. "We are together at last!" and he bayed his joy to the skies.
"Quiet down, you big furball," laughed Judy-pet, and she licked him on the nose.

Judy-pet as the Princess and the Pea

Rodeo feeling put-upon

Is flax the way to go?

Hi there! I read a story last night that is written by Hans Christian Anderson. It's called "the flax" and it got me thinking, the message of the story is that how ever hard you are hit with hardship, something beautiful always comes out of you. Here is a link to "the flax" online. Stop! you can't go further then this point if you haven't read the story yet! Isn't that amazing? it seemed to me to hold an amazing message in it. and it has become one of my favorite stories now. Plus, It's good for you physically so I think that flax really is the way to go. Well,I just thought I'd spread some of my knowledge to the world. Signing off, Bonny.

I LOVE HOMESCHOOLING!!!

I LOVE HOMESCHOOLING!!!

And that's not all, you meet 

the finest people in all the world!

On Prayer

Here's an inspiring quote from St. Thomas Aquinas on prayer. Its very good I think, because it addresses one of the mysteries of the spiritual life. If God already has a plan for the world, and already knows what was, and is, and is to come, then why pray for a special intention if it's not really going to change anything? On the other hand, remember that we are to pray without ceasing, as well as the parable of the friend at night (Luke 11), and the parable of the unjust judge and the widow (Luke 18). How do we reconcile resignation to God's will with perseverance in prayer? Here is St. Thomas' quote:

"We do not pray to change the divine scheme, but to ask those things which God has decreed to be brought about in response to our prayers."

Canada anyone?

     Check out this route!

      Tell me if you know anything you want to see anything along the way.  If anyone has been this route, what do you recommend?

By the way, it seems to me that we will be doing a lot of walking on this trip.  Taking some weeks to "train" for the increased level of exercise cannot go amiss.

Movies with a message even today.

     Here is a stack of links to some of my favorite children's movies. Most of the time the little ones couldn't take their eyes off the show as the animators drew in the characters and told the story. The three starred ones are the ones we own and have always been favorites, I just love the message in Miriam's .  Warning: The Mary and Joseph one has a reference to Jesus' little brothers and sisters. If you show these to very little children you may have to do some explaining.
 
*Miriam and the Baby Moses-draw on animation

*Elijah and the Fire from Heaven-draw on animation

*Paul's Adventure-draw on animation

Noah's great adventure-draw on animation

Joseph's Dream-draw on animation

Joshua and the land-draw on animation

Mary and Joseph-draw on animation

have fun!

Bunny here,

Well I'm finally getting the knack of being a housewife. OK I'm not exactly a housewife, I'm more of a house-sister/daughter/dog-owner/whatever. I digress. But seriously, have you ever wondered, just what do housewives do all day? I'll tell you.

1. Breakfast. Seems simple, right? However, we can't have eggs and toast or oatmeal every day of the week, but this is too messy and that takes too long to make. Fine, just grab a box of cheerios.

2. Dishes. Clear the table, stack the dishes in the dishpan, run the water, grab the soap- wait, someone put the soap away. Now just where is "away"? Oh, under the sink. Now the washcloth. But the one from yesterday is dry and a little crusty. Run downstairs, rifle through the laundry buckets, no clean washcloths, pull hair. Fine, back upstairs, rinse the old washcloth in very hot water. Wash the dishes while listening to march classics to calm frazzled nerves.

3. Now- wait, the dogs have been whining and sitting on their leashes ever since dishes. Fine. round up dogs, clip on leashes. Stay... Okay, go ahead. Not that fast! This is a walk, remember? You, slow down, he's trying to sniff. You, speed up, she wants to go. Heel, Heel! Good kids! Okay, run. You, slow down, we're not training for the Ironman. You, speed up, we want to get home before supper time. Good kids, we're home.

4. Nap in front of air conditioner.

5. Lunch. Maybe just sandwiches. Wait, there's those eggs that weren't used for breakfast. Maybe make a quiche? No butter for pie dough, maybe a pizza crust would work. Mix up pizza crust. Wait, does anyone else like quiche? Fine, save it for another day. Now there's this pizza dough. Fine, pizza for lunch.

6. Five-thousand-things-in-five-minutes. Dash around like a chicken with it's head cut off putting away random items while listening to break-neck speed music.

7. Vacuum.

8. Laundry. Back downstairs. Watch period drama while folding, sorting, and stacking clothes for distribution into drawers upstairs.

9. Freelance writing.

10. Yard work. Scoop doggie-do, pull weeds, dump weeds into paper bag, spray weeds on rock pile, contemplate trimming bushes, decide to let that wait for tomorrow, spray Japanese beetles eating bushes with dog shampoo, pick flowers for indoor vases.

11. Start Supper.

12. Relax. Get on computer to check e-mail.

At this step the family will come home from work, see you on the computer and say, "Haven't you done anything today?"

There you go, twelve easy steps to being a housewife. Easy, right?

Signing off,

Bunny

Cookie Desperation Invention

   One night I had a craving for cookies at about 10:30 p.m. but I didn't have any vanilla.  The only thing I had that could substitute was cinnamon so I mixed them up... and baked them. I finished at about midnight. THEY WERE GREAT!  Maybe it was my desperation, maybe it was watching "Doc Martin" while I beat the hard stick of butter into the sugar with a fork. Maybe it was just a great invention.  Here is the recipe:


MY Snicker Doodle Invention


3/4 cup butter
1-1/4 cups firmly packed light brown sugar
2 tablespoons Milk
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 egg
1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon baking soda


Heat the oven to 350.  Put the first four ingredients in a bowl and beat well until creamy.  Add the egg and continue beating. Add the flour, salt and soda all at once and mix until all the dry ingredients are incorporated into the mix. Refrigerate about 10 minutes. Form into small balls and roll in cinnamon and sugar and bake on an ungreased cookie sheet for about 8 minutes or slightly browner around the edges.

A Homeschool Family

Here is a great video of a homeschool family that I stumbled across on you tube. I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

A Homeschool Family

Between the Lines

Hi, Bunny here,

I had a thought today while I was out with the pooches.

Remember that feeling on your third or fourth birthday when you get a brand new coloring book? You squeal in delight and flip through the pages admiring the clever drawings and start imagining how you will decorate the pages.

At the earliest opportunity you grab your box of well-used crayons and set to work spreading bright rainbows of enthusiastic color all over the pages of your new book. Happiness fills your tiny heart until a Highly Superior Sibling glances at the drawing.

"You have to stay between the lines," they say in a 'been there, done that' tone.

"But it's pretty," you protest.

"Doesn't matter," they reply smugly, "You have to stay between the lines, it's the rule."

Leap forward two years and picture yourself heading off to the park. Your short legs demote you to the last place in the exuberant clan as you rush up the sidewalk ahead of Mom. A street is reached and the siblings, after waiting a sufficient time for cars to disperse, begin to pelt across the street. You see a chance to pass to the front of the group and dart to the side. A squeal of tires, a yell from Mom and the next thing you know you have your arm jerked and are standing on the curb surrounded by grim-faced siblings.

"You always stay between the white lines," Mom says firmly.

"But why?" you ask, blinking back tears.

"You're safer that way," Mom explains. "It's the rule."

Now imagine a soccer field. The players flit about the field like colorful butterflies all chasing a small black and white ball. You know that your team is tied with the opponents and that you only have a few minutes left before the game is over. Suddenly the ball hurtles your way. With a burst of speed you catch up to it and begin dribbling down the field towards the goal. An opponent darts towards you and in a panic you kick the ball as hard as you can.

A groan goes up from your teammates and faraway your coach's voice yells, "Not over the line!"

A whistle sounds, and you realize you've lost the game.

"Why can't you just follow the rules?" growls a teammate.

You're a teenager and sweat is dripping down your face as you stoop to pick up a small, hard ball off the floor of the racquet-ball court. Dad's been trying to teach you how to play and you think you're finally getting the knack.

"Can I try serving it this time?" you ask.

"Sure," says Dad.

You toss the ball up in the air and bring the racquet back to swing when Dad calls, "Wait, you have to stand between the red lines."

"What for?" you ask.

"That's just the rules, " he says.

You've been going to drivers ed classes for an eternity and you finally have a drivers permit in your pocket. Early one morning Mom lets you slide behind the wheel for the first time. Painstaking you shift into reverse and back out of the driveway with exaggerated slowness. The car responds to a slight tap on the gas peddle by leaping forward with a roar. "Slowly," Mom instructs, "press gently on the gas and brake."

You nod and continue on stalwartly. The wheel feels slick under your fingers and you grab it tightly. A slight jerk of the arm and car veers dangerously close to the curb.

"Steady," says Mom. "Try to stay between the lines."

Some friends just down the street ask you to babysit for them while they go to a late-night concert. You have a license and easily drive the five or six blocks to their house. Around one o'clock they return. You make your report, receive your wages and trek back out to your little car. The hour is late and you are tired, so you proceed home about ten miles below the speed limit. A car pulls up behind you and you consider pulling over to let it pass, twice, but as you are almost home you decide not to. Suddenly with a flash of lights the sedate car behind you becomes a fiery steed of the law. You pull over as any dutiful citizen should. A light shines in your window and the officer says, "I need your licence and insurance information."

"What did I do wrong?" You ask.

"You crossed the fog line twice," he says, "I have to make sure you're not drunk."

Life is confusing sometimes. So many things change, yet so many remain through the years. I can just see some old person in a nursing home being told by a superior staff person that they must keep their wheelchair on this side of the line. America claims to be the home of the free, but how free are we if little things like lines can dictate so much of our lives? But on the other hand, where would we be without them?

Signing off, keep smiling, and stay inside the lines.

The renewal in the Eucharist of the covenant between the Lord and man draws the faithful into the compelling love of Christ and sets them on fire.

That title is a quote from a Vatican II document, SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM.  Isn't that great?   I've found that most of the Church documents I've read are very readable.
 Here are some more:(emphasis added)

11. But in order that the liturgy may be able to produce its full effects, it is necessary that the faithful come to it with proper dispositions, that their minds should be attuned to their voices, and that they should cooperate with divine grace lest they receive it in vain [28] . Pastors of souls must therefore realize that, when the liturgy is celebrated, something more is required than the mere observation of the laws governing valid and licit celebration; it is their duty also to ensure that the faithful take part fully aware of what they are doing, actively engaged in the rite, and enriched by its effects.

12. The spiritual life, however, is not limited solely to participation in the liturgy. The Christian is indeed called to pray with his brethren, but he must also enter into his chamber to pray to the Father, in secret [29]; yet more, according to the teaching of the Apostle, he should pray without ceasing [30]. We learn from the same Apostle that we must always bear about in our body the dying of Jesus, so that the life also of Jesus may be made manifest in our bodily frame [31]. This is why we ask the Lord in the sacrifice of the Mass that, "receiving the offering of the spiritual victim," he may fashion us for himself "as an eternal gift" [32].

14. Mother Church earnestly desires that all the faithful should be led to that fully conscious, and active participation in liturgical celebrations which is demanded by the very nature of the liturgy. Such participation by the Christian people as "a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a redeemed people (1 Pet. 2:9; cf. 2:4-5), is their right and duty by reason of their baptism.

As you can see not only are these original documents readable, they are compelling! Never settle for the mass media version or a scholarly commentary on these or any other Church document. Read the original documents yourself to see, for yourself, one way in which Christ remains with us, until the end of time, through His Church.

An Excellent Recipe

Here's a peanut butter cookie recipe from a Taste of Home's Quick Cooking, Collector's Edition. It is truly excellent.

1/2 cup butter or margarine softened
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup peanut butter
1 egg
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 & 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. baking powder
Additional sugar

In a mixing bowl, cream butter and sugars. Add peanut butter, egg and vanilla; beat until smooth. Combine the flour, baking soda and baking powder; add to creamed mixture and mix well. For easier shaping, chill the dough for 1 hour. Shape into 1-inch balls; place 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheets. Flatten each ball by crisscrossing with the tines of a fork dipped in sugar. Bake at 375 degrees Fahrenheit for 10-12 minutes or until bottoms are lightly browned and cookies are set.
Yields about 4 dozen.

Taking Flight

Here is an adorable picture of one of the River Bottom Beagles puppies that Bonny linked you to in her post.  (click on the word beagles in the phrase "especially beagles" in her post to see lots more.)

What do I want to be?

Hi! Bonny here. I've been thinking that I haven't decided what I want to be yet. Mom says there's plenty of time, but I don't know. I've gone through several options, painter, Olympic swimmer, music teacher, writer, scientist, and many others. I think I'm most into writing 'write' now, but I was born into a mixed family. My mom's likes paintng, my sisters are interested in horses, writing, music, and history. My dad's a computer sort of guy, Dashman would make a great National Parks Ranger, and Reaganite is more of the history and politics guy. As for me, you ask? I've got a great hand at computers, I like writing stories better then bookreports, I love swimming, fishing, camping, pets (especially beagles),(Here's one of our beagles caught napping on the blanket shelf.) swings, jumprope, sketching, riding, outdoors, indoors (on a cold day), and books. I like cooking and have made up two recipes. one is a raspberry fluff that is great as a filling between the layers of a birthday cake and the other is a salad dressing we call CR special. Anyway, I ask that you continue praying for me to help me make the "write" choice for my future.

Virtue Befitting a Son of God

     Here is a little something that I read and I would like you all to hear (or read) and take to heart.  It comes from a little book by Jose Marie Escriva called The Way:

#440   When you have finished your work, Do your brother's, helping him, for the sake of Christ, with such finesse and naturalness that no one --not even he-- will realize that you are doing more than in justice you ought.  

     This indeed is virtue befitting a son of God.

  I know that all of you know the reward that comes from this kind of service but the most difficult part of this assignment is keeping it to yourself when you have accomplished it. Generosity that is not, and does not become self service is real charity.

A quick Chesterton truism

 "There are two ways to get enough.  One is to continue to accumulate more and more.  The other is to desire less."
~ Gilbert K. Chesterton

Wild What?

     Yesterday... was just completely road trip, and tomorrow will be another road trip. So, I thought I would write a little today while I do some laundry.  Our road trips have been almost exclusively to visit family.  They are really the only thing worth that much sacrifice ("drive thru" food and cramped quarters for long hours).  When we had babies we used to call them wild hares (or maybe wild hairs depending on who you were looking at and the relative humidity that day).

      Here is our recipe for Wild Hare (Hair) in case you want to try one of your own someday.

Dad and Mom (Just 1 of these could also pull it off, but it's not as good a result.)
at least 1 child (actual number depended on how many we had and their schedules-you can see that this was easier to carry off when you were small and scheduleless.)
1 Car or van  (as time went on and there were more drivers in the family, this could be more than 1, usually not more than 3 and trucks have worked too.)
Gasoline in the tank

Bunny? Wet again?

1 change of clothing for the youngest of the crew.
1 change of clothes for the one most likely to fall in a lake, pond, stream, swamp or puddle. (Read "Bunny").
1 large sweatshirt or jacket to cover one other person in need.
A little bit of cash and a bag of snacks or some fast food.
Traveling music-and a Vegi Tale cd for emergencies (read Bonny) (the last could be exchanged for tape/cd players with head sets as you grew, but this significantly reduced the quality of the time spent together).
Books were sometimes allowed too. (Read "Bird"and "Buddy").
various toys and tools as seemed appropriate ( Read "little Bear").
A possible destination (usually, but not exclusively, dealing with Grandma and Grandpa)
Sense of humor (1 each)
Remember the camera,  we have the most wonderful memories of these trips!  I'll see if I can find some shots of trips to add here.
a notebook to record great quotes
    Pack everyone in the car on short notice with just enough change of clothes to make sure we will make it home again dry.  Call out "Have we got everybody?"and "Is everybody happy?" Launch off to destination. Keep praying!

What a Father Wants to Know

Here is a little poem by a very endearing poet whose talent I stumbled upon when I found a little book by him in a used bookstore.   This one I offer especially in honor of Father's Day.  Any father with even the slightest romantic sentiment will find Edgar A Guest an inspiration and a guide.


You would take my girl away!
What is there that I can say
Save the things all fathers think,
Seldom put in printers ink?
Little care I for your fame,
O the glory you may claim,
Or the fortune you may earn;
These are not my deep concern--
This I really want to know,
Will you always love her so?

It is fine enough to tell
that to-day you're doing well;
I appreciate your skill
and I think someday you will
Climb the ladder of success
To your lasting happiness;
But if all this should be had
and my little girl be sad,
I'd regret my whole life through
Having given her to you.

Will you always love her so?
That is what I want to know.
Will you comfort her and stay
At her side from day to day?
Knowing she must bear your name,
Will you shield her from all shame?
This the burden on my mind,
Will you thoughtful be and kind?
All that matters is to know
That you'll always love her so.

taken from The Passing Throng , by Edgar A. Guest
published by Reilly & Lee co. Chicago U.S.A. 1923

Great Dad in Action

Hello, hello, I'm Bunny, the middle daughter, (so give me a break because I have an older sister and a younger one) but I'm still very blessed.
So, yesterday was Father's Day, and while I could SAY something very touching and sweet about Fathers, I choose to look back a day and SHOW you a good dad at work.
Bird needs a car. There's no two ways around it, it's a fact. The car she has was condemned three years ago as scrap metal and you just never know when it will decide to turn on.
So, the day before Father's Day, Dad comes into the living room, points at me like the figure of doom might point at a chipmunk in his pantry, and he says, "How'd you like to go car shopping?"
"Me!?!" I squeak, like said chipmunk.
"Yup," he says, "Get ready, 'cause we're leaving in ten minutes."
Now don't get me wrong, I love being with Dad, he's a great dad, but really, Bonny is our lucky car buyin' girl. So I figure we might look around a bit, but come home with a car? Not likely.

Scene 1: Car dealership A
Enter two suspicious strangers. They prowl around a small green car with eyes that notice every ding and scratch.
Salesman gulps nervously and loosens his collar. Nerving himself up he walks towards the strangers with his must sell this car smile.
Two strangers turn out to be Dad and Bunny.
"Hi," says Dad, "we saw this car on the internet and since it's in our price and age range we thought we'd take a look."
Dad is such a good bluffer. This is actually his favorite car, the one he is most interested in, and therefore most likely to buy.
"Oh, sure," says salesman, "I'll go get the keys and you can have a look at it."
While the salesman is back in the building telling his co-workers that he was not scared, Dad shows me how to test the shocks. ("Push down hard on the hood and the trunk and if it only bounces once then they're still good.")
Salesman comes back and we take greenie for a whirl. Status report: makes weird noises, interior crumby and breaks are jerky (oddly enough the last one only happens when I am driving. Hmm).
We head off for dealership 2 with a card in our pockets and relief that that one is over.

Scene 2: Dealership B
Enter Dad and Bunny, they park car and begin prowling through quadruple-parked lot.
From the building emerges a smart, self-confident Salesman. He is paid by commission and will sell a car. If it kills him. Or us. Preferably both.
Oddly enough, we walk away from him. This he has not experienced. Little does he know, Dad likes to have a car to talk about before talking cars.
Salesman chases us until Dad finally has mercy and lets him catch up. "Can I help You?" Salesman calls over the car tops.
Dad tells him we are looking for a car that was advertised on the internet. Salesman looks disconcerted. "It might have been sold," he hedges, (the drama intensifies, will he make a sale today?) "Let me check with my manager." He turns and sprints back to the building.
Dad and I casually meander back through the labyrinth of cars towards our own. I can pick up on his mood: if the car isn't here we'll just go to the next place. Dad has one price and one style in mind. Only the best for Bird.
Salesman comes back at a fast trot. "Sorry," he pants as he pulls up beside us, "It was sold yesterday." But has our valiant Salesman given up hope? Never! Squatting beside us is a beautiful car of a different make, perhaps he can yet make a sale!
"Ohh, black interior, leather seats," comments Dad. I know Dad, he's just being nice. Both of us are thinking "that's gonna be hot in the summer".
"It's too flashy," I say, turning the predator's eyes away from Dad. "I don't like silver cars."
"But it has a sun roof," wheedles Salesman thinking he has an easy target.
"IT'S - TOO - FLASHY," I repeat, I can make a point when I want to.
"That one is flashy," Salesman points to a puke-green mustang.
"No," I reply, "this one is flashy, that one is sick."
"What color do you like?" Salesman will not let us leave without a commission
"Sorry," Dad breaks in, "We've got a couple other cars to look at. We might be back if we don't find anything we like. Are you open on Sunday?"
Salesman frumps. "You have to give us one day off."
Having burst his bubble, Dad and I retreat to our car before he can rope us in again.

Scene 3: Dealership C
Dad and I have a lovely drive across town to the third dealership.
Example: Dad, "I thought you'd like to get a mustang."
Me, "Dad, the only mustang I want has four legs and a tail."
Dad, "Ha ha ha!"
This next place had two cars we were going to look at. A nice salesman who seemed to be the boss of several underlings came up to help us and after Dad explained what we were looking for he handed us over to one of his minions, a nice young man I'll call Jay. We walked out the the cars and began to look them over.
One was a dark blue with a sun roof, the other was a grayish tan that shimmered pink. Something about the second one just screamed "Right for Bird" to me.
Dad had shown me where to look for rust spots and I located a little around the wheel-wells, but nothing major. Dad nodded. "It looks in good condition," he said.
"Do you want to take it for a drive?" asked Jay.
It ran well, but the brakes wobbled a little when going at high speeds. Dad asked me to try it to see what I thought. I was thrilled. The car ran smooth and it felt nice, all but the brakes.
"If it will make or break the deal we can fix them for you before you buy," Jay told us.
We decided that this was the best thing to do. The car went into the shop and we signed the papers. Dad asked the financial man how many people read the papers before signing.
"One out of fifty," was the disgusted reply. "Some people won't even let me explain to them what they're signing."
The car was still in the shop so we headed out to lunch at a Wendy's across the road. Even though a steady rain was beginning to fall, Dad asked me if I would drive the car home. I was so excited I almost hugged him. Instead, he fed me a spicy chicken nugget. When I indicated that my mouth was burning he said, "I guess you'll just have to get a frosty to cool down."
"Do you want one?" I asked.
"No," he said, "I'll just snitch some of yours."
Back at the dealership we snitched two lollipops from an obliging candy bowl and browsed the new car models. There was one with mechanical seat controls that I had fun playing around with while Dad fought off bored employees who where desperate for a customer. "You'd think they would remember that I don't need help," he grumbled as one guy walked away from him for a second time.
When the car was finished the Head Honcho found us. "Jay is pulling the car around for you," he said and I couldn't help thinking how nice he was being, until Jay and the car pulled into view. "PULL IT AROUND!" he bellowed out the door, "DON'T MAKE THEM WALK THROUGH THE RAIN!"
"It's alright," Dad tried to say, but HH wasn't listening. I don't think he even realized that he'd spoiled his own image.
Jay started walking in as HH led us out. Halfway between the door and the car we met. "Do you have both sets of keys?" HH broke of his monologue on how much he appreciated our business to growl at Jay.
"I just have the key I used," Jay said, blinking under the heavy downpour.
"Well get the other one for them!" snapped HH, before turning back to us. "Really, it's a great car, I'm so glad you were able to do business with us."
I wanted to point out that we were getting more wet from listening to his monologue than we would have if we'd stayed inside and dashed out to where Jay had parked, but I held my tongue. Poor Jay, obviously his boss didn't like him very much. Poor HH, he's going to lose customers if he keeps treating his employees like dirt.
At last Jay returned with the other key and we began the long drive home. It was a little tricky with rain and traffic, but Dad tried to keep in sight so I wouldn't get lost.
When we got home Bird was still at work, so we called out TK and Bonny to test drive the car over to Bird's work. She was gone already, so we drove back home. A block away we saw her little clunker in the driveway, so we called the house and told Bird to come out. The door opened and she stepped outside. Suddenly, her eyes popped open and her chin dropped. She began to squeal with delight.

Seeing the look on Dad's face, it made me think: maybe Dad's don't need new grills for Father's day. Maybe they just want people to see how much they're loved.

Signing off, Bunny

A Chesterton Quote for the Day

An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.
-G. K. Chesterton

Another Chesterton Quote

"Here ends another day, during which I have had eyes, ears, hands and the great world around me. Tomorrow begins another day. Why am I allowed two?"
-G. K. Chesterton

A Chesterton Quote for the Day

Here is an interesting Chesterton quotation I came across today:

"Jesus promised his disciples three things—that they would be completely fearless, absurdly happy, and in constant trouble."

-G. K. Chesterton

Bonnie's A Blogger!

Hi! I'm Bonny, the third daughter. This is my first public post and I'm very excited. My family thought it very nice to have a blog and keep together like this. I'm still in school, but just barely. Our new apartment (until we get a firmer position) was very dull until we bought some new furniture and some more of our own stuff down here. The new town is very good and my mom and I can walk almost everywhere. There are two swimming pools in very easy walking distance. God's blessings on you all, Bonny.

A Quote for Pentecost

O Holy Spirit, descend plentifully into my heart. Enlighten the dark corners of this neglected dwelling and scatter there Thy cheerful beams.
-St. Augustine

Feast of St. Barnabas

Here is the very inspiring, opening prayer for today's Mass on the feast of St. Barnabas:

God our Father,
You filled Saint Barnabas with faith
and the Holy Spirit
and sent him to convert the nations.
Help us to proclaim the gospel by word and deed.
We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, Your Son,
who lives and reigns with You
and the Holy Spirit,
one God,
for ever and ever.

So, Why A Piece of Blue Chalk?

Now and Forever!
Hello, I'm known as Bird, and I'm Daughter #1. I'm adding this post to provide a reference and explanation for the name of our blog. The title A Piece of Blue Chalk, comes from the ending of G.K. Chesterton's essay, A Sermon on Cheapness. The selection is as follows:

"My bosom friend the Pessimist and I were standing outside a small toy shop, glueing our noses to the glass, when the long silence was broken by my remarking on the beauty of a solid stick of blue chalk, which was offered for sale (in some tempest of generosity) for a halfpenny. `Have you considered,' I asked, `all that this stick of blue chalk means? For a halfpenny I am possessed of it. I go home at night under the stars, between dark walls and through mazy streets. I shall be free to write upon those walls beautiful or stern sentiments, arraigning the powers of the earth, and write them in the very colour of heaven. At home I may beguile the evening in a thousand innocent sports, designing barbaric patterns upon the new table-cloth, drawing dreamy and ideal landscapes upon the note-paper, decorating my own person in the manner of our British predecessors, sketching strange and ideal adventures for strange and ideal characters. And all this blue river of dreams is loosened by a halfpenny.'

The Pessimist replied, in his sad, stern way, `Drivel. It is only
the blue chalk you buy for a halfpenny. You do not buy the stars
for a halfpenny; you do not buy the streets for a halfpenny;
you do not buy your dreams or your love of drawing or your tastes
and imaginations for a halfpenny.'

`True,' I replied. `The stars and the dreams and myself are cheaper
than chalk: for I bought them for nothing.'

He burst into tears and became immediately convinced of the basis
of true religion. For our very word for God means Economy:
is not improvidence the opposite of Providence?"

Bloggie Beginnings

Praised be Jesus Christ!
   My family and I, in transition, have decided to find another creative way to keep in touch besides using email, text, the favored U.S. postal service and land line telephone options.  For the past two months parts of our family have been gradually moving away to accommodate the changing job situations.  Prayers have been answered (though not as we had imagined) and God's guidance has been clear, so we each pick up our piece of blue chalk and step into the night "between dark walls and through mazy streets..."