The Fellowship of the Unashamed

This week I had chance to hear a talk by Patrick Madrid that is distributed by Lighthouse Catholic Media.  The talk was called "Why I am Catholic when I could be anything else".

It has been a long time since I heard him speak and I enjoyed his engaging manner of talking and the anecdotes and exercises he described but I think I enjoyed most his Mission statement, which he read out at the end of the talk and I have to say it has lit a new fire under me to start making a difference where I am.  Below is a copy of that Mission statement.

Smooth knees...a real prayer warrior does not have smooth knees!
T.K.

Holy Spirit Novena- It's time to start again!

      Yesterday, during confession, my esteemed confessor told me two things, it is the Ascension, and so we must have our heads in the clouds, so to speak.  Lifting up our minds, our attitudes, our composure, our demeanor, our outlook, to be in heaven with Jesus.  But not just today, everyday!  We must live our lives as citizens of the heavenly kingdom stretched up to heaven but still impacting, for good, those here on earth with our lives and work.  (Bonny added that then we would be giving God that much more chance to fill us with Grace and make us conduits of his grace to those around us.)  He also said this is the time to push the reset button on your spiritual life.

 What better time to Reset than that time when we call down onto ourselves the Holy Spirit.

Holy Spirit Novena by St. Alphonsus Liguori

If you haven't started it yet, do it today.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/bslmmrs/5700183747/

The Perfect Storm

Lessons for all of us!

 Hear Father Dufner talk about "The Perfect Storm"

More from the good Father (and others)

     What has our culture drawn us into?  Why are we not fighting for a better life for ourselves and our children?  Listen to this clear voice give instruction on how to cut off the head of the monster that is trying to swallow us whole.

On the First Day of Holy week...

Here is one way to observe Holy week that can be continued all year long

Come Pray the Rosary at comepraytherosary.org

     Come Pray the Rosary is an online rosary that is very easy to follow and is used by many people around the world.  You can choose to do your rosary individually or join in the rosary that others are praying.  On the bottom of this intro screen they tell how many others are praying with you. It is going on 24 hours /day and has a page where you can write in an intention and read the other intentions that have been written so you can pray for others' needs specifically. 

      Click the link under the picture and let Mary lead you through this Holy week.

A personal Exodus

        A few weeks ago Dashman and I decided that commuting to Wacko Alley to deliver papers every morning was getting too taxing on our sleep schedules, work schedules and gas tanks. So, we handed in our two weeks notice (causing much chagrin in the paper depot, as we had one of the largest routes) and contacted the paper depot in our own neck of the woods. This time it was I who signed the papers, officially taking the new route as my own. We spent some time over the next two weeks trying to train in our clueless replacement- but I'll let Dashman explain the painful details.
        We then started our new route, delivering PP papers. (NOT to the driveways! What do we look like- Barbarians!?) Anyway, so far it has been fairly pleasant, the people friendly and helpful, and the depot clean and neat. The route also covers the same area where we live, so the commute home is non-existent, instead of the half-hour drive we used to take.
        Last week, as we were finishing up the route, I mentioned to Dashman that we had two houses on Caramel that we had to deliver to. Dashman replied, "Caramel? I can't drive on caramel!"
       I rolled my eyes. "If the Israelites could wade through milk and honey, you can drive on a bit of caramel!"

To Know, Love and ...?

Yesterday I was babysitting again, a family of 3 little girls and 1 boy ranging in age from ten to three.  When we started to make supper, Miss America and Princess helped take the taco fixings out of the fridge, but the youngest, Captain America, began to cry that he didn't like tacos and ran out of the room.

"I like tacos" carolled five-year-old Madame President as she twirled around the kitchen, "I love tacos".  Then she pulled herself up conscientiously.  "No, no I don't love tacos.  I like them very, very, very much."

Ah, I thought, she's had that conversation, the one about loving people and liking things that all little kids get eventually.
"Do you know why you can't love tacos?" she continued rhetorically.
"Why?"
"You can't love tacos because you can't squeeze them!" she concluded with triumph, and returned to her twirling, leaving me speechless.

Honestly though, she's got a point.  Have you ever tried to squeeze a taco?

Primary Importance

Yesterday I had a babysitting call.  The last-minute kind where something unforeseen arises, and a family needs someone to watch the kids in the next five minutes.  I was free for the morning so I rushed right over.  The family has four little boys ages 7 and under, and when I arrived the two youngest were sitting in the kitchen eating their oatmeal, while the two eldest were in the bathroom brushing their teeth.  It had been a while since I babysat for this family, and Boy #1 came rushing out to show me his new toothbrush - one that could "spin" and lit up green when he pressed a button - which I duly admired with the requisite level of awe.

When Boy #1 had gone back to finish brushing, Boy #3 looked up from his oatmeal.
"It lights up red, too." he said "Red and green.  Primary Colors." he added importantly.
"Is green a primary color?"  I asked.
"Yes," he nodded his head with conviction, "Red is the color of the 49ers and green is the color of the Packers."
"Well" I conceded, "I guess that would make them primary".

Escapades on the Route. Part 1 of many.

Hey everybody!

It's me, Dashman, posting for the first time! :) 

I just wanted to share some experiences about driving the paper route that I share with Bunny.  I wanted to share them, because they seem funny in hindsight; though sometimes precarious at the time.  Lemme share a little background first.  I got sucked into the paper delivery world a couple years back, when a friend at work (who I'll call Lumpy) stopped working there rather sudden-like.  Another co-worker, and friend, 'Pops' suggested he get a paper route to help pay the bills.  He did, and when he started, they recommended he find someone who could sub for him, as they were not responsible for covering his days off.  Enter Dashman, willing to try anything at least once.  Long story short, that route didn't last very long for Lumpy (better opportunity through fambily connections); but I was hooked.  Where else can you drive around in the middle of the night throwing things at peoples' houses without getting arrested?  So I agreed to start subbing for Pops.  Then he wanted to quit, being fairly older and I seamlessly slid into his position.  I started on Thanksgiving, when everyone who has ever ordered a paper in their lives gets one for free, and they're twice as thick as Sundays.  (Did I mention I only do weekdays? :) )  Time to recruit some help.  I asked Bunny and Bird to come along, seeing as I only had to deliver my regular customers the way I usually would.  It was great fun.  Fast-forward a ways, and Bunny is helping out part-time; meaning three out of five days.  We always have a blast, and take great pride in delivering to the door; unlike our arch-nemesis who throws his papers on the driveways.  It gets particularly interesting in the snow, as we found out last year.  My truck, affectionately named Snoopy, is rear-wheel drive and tends to fishtail a little.  It's fun when you are all alone on the road, and you can leave your pretty patterns for others to marvel at until the city decides to clean up after you. :)  Anyway, we pulled into a cul-de-sac to deliver, and dropped off our papers.  Swinging out, I gunned the engine to get through the snow.  We went in a neat little circle, ending up facing the right direction, but on the other side of the street.  As we never left the cul-de-sac, it was kind of funny.  I looked at Bunny and said, "Let's try that again.  I don't remember eating any ice cream." (reference funny saying by uncle that I will have to explain later.)  We pulled out of the cul-de-sac without much problem, laughing about our escapades.

Stay tuned for more, because there's always more happening in the wee hours!

A ghost in the woods

Over the holidays, the big Dude and I have not been getting out for his daily walks. With all the parties and visitors and cleaning up and baking, well, we just haven't had much time for it. Lately, the little boys have begun to drive us a little bit crazy with their boundless energy, especially as Grover sprained a muscle in his leg while playing rough and now they can't go outside to romple together. (Don't worry, he's healing fast and will be causing destruction again soon.)
Where was I?
Oh, right.
So, Dashman and I have started taking the terrorists and their daddy (mommy is having a spa vacation in the south again, lucky dog!) on jaunts up the street to the library and back, a good thirty minute walk. While this does do some good for the wee crumb-crunchers, the excess of delightful goodies over the holidays still shows on their poor papa.
So I took pity on him. I mean it's not as if an extra walk a day will do me any harm. Even though I carefully avoided even looking at Christmas cookies and have no need to drop a few pounds. None. :)
Moving on!
So this morning I said the magic word to Big Dude and, while Bird distracted the pooglets, we slipped on the leash and out the door.
We jaunted along, just enjoying the fresh air and each others company, and all those delightful smells on the light poles... Okay, I just watched that part. Anyway, at last the entrance of the park came in view and I tried to get Big Dude to sit down before we crossed the street. Except he wouldn't. He just stared at the road and the park beyond.
And then I saw why.
Walking down the road between the park and a quiet residential neighborhood, there was a man and his dog. More importantly, between us, stood a coyote.
I am a city girl. That being said, it shocked me just a bit to see this.
The man and his dog (a black lab mix I'm pretty sure) continued walking as if this was normal. Maybe it was.  I hadn't been to the park in months, I wouldn't know.
As the space between the two pairs of dog-walkers narrowed, the coyote slipped back into the park. A little nervously, I patted Big Dude and entered the park ahead of the man and his dog. Hey, if Woofie attacked I wanted someone nearby in case I needed rescuing.
We wandered up the path a ways before I turned around to see if Woofie was still in sight. Not only was he still visible, he was following. And not very secretly either. I watched in disbelief as this purportedly shy animal casually skirted the small holding pond between us and walked up about twenty feet away. He stopped parallel to Big Dude and I, and blinked.
At this moment the other dog walker and his dog showed up. Maybe you'd think that Big Dude would be letting out his classic beagle bay at Woofie. After all, it is his first brush with a wild animal. Nope. He was busy making bristles at the lab/cross, who in turn was ignoring him for the coyote, who was busy blinking at me.
"Is that a coyote?" I asked the man. Stupid question, but hey.
"Yup," he said carelessly, and added, "my dog thinks he can beat him up."
Maybe it was the 0.0 look on my face, but at last he said, "Some guy keeps feeding it hot dogs, so its partly domesticated."
I said something forgettable like, "Really?"
He nodded. "Yup, it's still wild though." Kinda like a warning. As if I might just decide to walk up and start petting the thing.
Woofie decided the two dogs were a little intimidating and moved on up the path a bit.
I was thinking of all the stories of half-wild wolves attacking people when they wanted food, and I said, "That's actually kind of scary."
The guy nodded and moved on. So much for my protection.
Ahead the path split three ways, one path leading off to another park, one going farther to loop around the lake, and a smaller gravel path between the two, winding off deeper into the woods. Woofie chose the middle path. I'd told Bird I was going to circle the lake. And Hector protector took off towards the other park.
It didn't matter. I was in the middle of a neighborhood. If I screamed, people would come help, right? On a silent, chilly morning with low grey clouds simulating mist, that thought didn't seem comforting.

So on we poogled. And our silent shadow poogled after us, crossing the woods between our paths effortlessly. Every twenty yards or so I'd stop and turn around. And there he'd be.
At last we reached the lake. Maybe that was the end of his territory, because at that point Woofie just disappeared. We continued around the lake, me wondering if there were more than one coyote in the park, and Big Dude happily unconscious of our encounter with the wild. Part of me was a little upset that he'd handled it all in such a bored manner. Part of me was glad, so glad, that I hadn't brought along the baby heart attacks. They would have died. And another part of me wished I'd thought to bring the camera.
Maybe tomorrow I'll take Big Dude out again. After all, neither of us dropped our holiday pounds on that one slow and halting walk. And hey, I'm not crazy, I'm not going to bring the puppies.
Or hot dogs.

Bunny