The Singing Revolution Sunday, May 11 2008

I will be speaking about the idea of beauty at an upcoming conference, and have been considering beauty as expressed in different media.  One medium that affects us all is music, which has the power to move people to tears, to move them to war, to move them to destruction, or to move them to revolution.

We went to see a documentary film called The Singing Revolution yesterday in Denver.  This film tells the story of how music was used to overthrow decades of Soviet oppression in the little Baltic nation of Estonia.  Without raising a weapon, thousands of people succeeded in bringing down their slavemasters through their music. 

Don’t let the term “documentary” scare you off.  Please try to see it.  You will be drawn in by the story and the beautiful music.  Imagine 24,000 people singing in tune skillfully following a conductor while the Soviet army stands helplessly by.  This film is a “must-see,” but like so many good movies in the last few years (The Passion of the Christ, Bella, etc.) it won’t come to a theater near you unless you request it.  Please take a few moments to check out the website and then call your local theaters and ask them to bring this wonderful film to your city.  Then, encourage your family and friends to go see it.  It is a bit of history about which few are aware and it is presented in a way that will lift your spirits.  Your young teens and older will enjoy the movie.  The music which brought about this revolution was set to a national poem and was banned by the Soviets, but the people managed to sing it anyway and by doing so, kept hope for freedom alive in their hearts.

 One of the lessons I took away from the movie is the importance of love of country in the survival of a people and a culture.  Unfortunately, often people do not realize how good their own country is until they lose their freedoms and suffer oppression for decades as millions did under Soviet domination.

 

 

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Mother’s Day Saturday, May 10 2008

This is probably the most difficult Mother’s Day for me to anticipate, because it is the first for me without my own dear mother who died last year. My Mom was just a little over a month short of 93 years of age. Mom was born in Tumacacori, Arizona, not far from the Mexican border in a little house which still stands by the highway. She grew up in that area, went to school and was then homeschooled by her own mother, learning Latin and reading Homer and Plato. She married my Dad in 1939 and together they had seven children. Mom dedicated her life to taking care of my Dad and the family. She moved all over the country because my Dad’s work took us all over the country. She was a gracious hostess and entertained people from all over the world in that capacity. There was no finer cook–I can still taste the simple pleasures of caldo, tamale pie and her refried beans. I learned a lot from my wonderful Mom–most importantly to trust in God ( I can still hear her say “con el favor de Dios“) and to love family. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom, and all you Moms out there.

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Happy Birthday Dad and Marie! Saturday, May 3 2008

Today my Dad would be 93 years old.  He was born in Tubac, Arizona, on a little homestead in 1915.  He went to school and was the first in his family to go to college.  His father, born in Mexico, told his children to learn English and get an education.  My Dad did so, and that enabled him to build a career which provided well for my Mom, Aggie, and seven children.  Though my grandparents were citizens, they were born in Mexico, and my dad was a first-generation-born-in-the-US-citizen.  He learned the value of hard work, and he lived the Faith which was handed down to him by his parents and which sustained him into his old age.  Dad loved God, he loved my Mom, he loved all of his children and grandchildren, and he loved people in general.  He was a conservationist (not to be confused with modern environmentalist).  Dad died after the turn of the new millenium on March 14, surrounded by Mom and his children.  He is sorely missed. 

My sister Marie was the first of 7 children born to my parents.  She is many things to many people, but to me she is my big sis and dear confidant.  Marie and I have shared many moments and memories throughout the years, both in good times and in bad.  Today she will be celebrated by family and friends in Tucson.  Wish I could be there to celebrate the “Matriarch” of our family, who inherited the title at the passing of our mother last July.

 

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9-year old wisdom Thursday, May 1 2008

I went to work the other day taking my purple gym bag so I could go to the Y later in the day.  My nine-year-old granddaughter wanted to carry it for me.

When she entered the store, our customer service manager said, “Oh, Lucy, what a pretty purple bag.  I like that.”

Lucy responded, “You’re not supposed to covet!”

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Murphy’s Law–or I should have stayed in bed today Saturday, Apr 26 2008

Sometimes you have to laugh or die or die laughing… 

Case in point:

We are trying to sell off some older cars and narrow the fleet down to two newer vehicles with warranties because we have spent a fortune in car repairs over the last few months. 

We left early in the morning to go to Mass to start our day out right.  From there we headed to the Motor Vehicle Department (DMV) to register a recently purchased car.   This was only one in a series of trips made to the same department for the same car–each time being turned away because of some paperwork glitch.  We would return only to be told there was yet another…and another…you get the picture.

Well on a check of all the papers before arriving, I discovered that the proof of insurance had just expired, so we had to detour and have a copy of it faxed to our office.  Then, thinking everything was in order,  we drove across town and I walked back into the DMV and took my ticket #41.  They were serving #9 when I arrived.  So I waited, and waited till they called me.  I was sure I would be out of there within a few minutes.  Well, I was out of there within a few minutes but WITHOUT MY REGISTRATION!!!

The clerk discovered that the form the DEALER had just used a couple of days before to certify the VIN was out of date and they could not accept it.  We had paid $20 for the VIN verification and who would have thought WE would know that the form wasn’t current?  So we drove back to the dealer and waited in line to see a service manager and get a new certification of the VIN.  We must have been given the only out-of-date form because the stack he had was all current.  Anyway, we went back to the DMV and finally got our registration.

We then went to look for another car to replace two remaining vehicles.  What we thought would only be a couple of hour excursion took all day.  While we were waiting for them to crunch the numbers, I went into the rest room.  I looked down at my feet and this is what I saw:  Yes–if you look closely, you will see that my shoes didn’t match!!! I had slipped into my shoes in the dark garage before we left in the morning and didn’t think about my shoes again.  (AND TO THINK I HAD A MATCHING SET JUST LIKE THESE BACK HOME IN MY DARK GARAGE!!!) I fled from the restroom and told my husband that I had to run over to Wal-mart to buy a pair of shoes.  Well, I have narrow feet and could not find a proper fit, but I took a pair that seemed close enough under the circumstances. I dodged people in every aisle, just sure that now that I was aware of my shoes, everybody was aware.   I went back to the dealer and we took off to another part of town to look at another car, but not before getting lunch.  I stepped out of the car in front of a restaurant and, you guessed it, I tripped on the curb because of my new shoes which were too clunky on my feet.  Out of the restaurant a smiling face appeared and the kind gentleman said,

“Since you are DROPPING in, would you like some pizza?”

I declined and we went to the Subway next door!  Nothing hurt but my pride.

Is God perhaps telling me to slow down and live in the moment, even down to paying attention when I thoughtlessly slip my shoes on in the morning?

 

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Family movies for May Thursday, Apr 24 2008

Rather than redoing the post I did for Aquinas and More, I will direct you to that site.  There are lots of wonderful movies relevant to Our Lady and several saints whose feast days are in May.  Enjoy the movies!

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Beauty, Part 1 Saturday, Apr 19 2008

I have been doing a LOT of reading about beauty lately because I am going to be speaking about it at an upcoming homeschool conference.  Everybody from Plato to St. Thomas Aquinas to our present Pope has spoken about beauty and what it means for the life of the soul.  In the present day culture of death, we fail to see beauty when it is right in front of us, focusing rather on the ugly in its many forms.

Get your kleenex out and you will see what I mean when you listen to this.  The ugliness is the bullying; the beauty, and redemption, is in the music.

 

 

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Colorado Spring Wednesday, Apr 16 2008

This is what happens when the seed catalogs start arriving in Colorado:

 

It was 75 degrees yesterday… 

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Of retreats and such Monday, Apr 14 2008

As a college coed, I used to go to what was then known as Camp St. Malo near Estes Park, Colorado, for Quest retreats sponsored by our Newman Center.  We bunked in an open room in those days and conditions were primitive.  But we were young and when we were told we would be sledding down Mt. Meeker which rises sharply above the camp, we naively  believed it. 

Mt. Meeker, 13,911 ft

 

 Those were the days of exercises to build trust among the participants.  Everything was done as a group and we had guitar Masses and lots of feel-good activities designed to build community among the college students.

Within a few years we were attending retreats for married couples at the seminary near our air force base.  Those retreats were marked by feel-good activities, agape meals, guitar Masses and lots of laughter.

I just returned from a retreat at St. Malo Retreat Center near Estes Park, Colorado (same place as Camp St. Malo).  This is the place Pope John Paul II retreated to when he came for World Youth Day in Denver, and there are pictures of him throughout the building.  This is the Chapel of St. Catherine of Siena, sometimes known as the Chapel on the Rock.  You can see why.

 

 

 

 

 St. Catherine of Siena Chapel

 

 

 The retreats I attend now are very different from those of my youth.  This was a silent retreat (as silent as it can be with dozens of women secluded together in the mountains!)  I go once a year and really find that it revitalizes my faith and gets me spiritually back in focus. 

 

 I tend to start sliding off the track and forget those resolutions I made the previous year.  A silent retreat is led by a priest who gives several meditations during the weekend.  There is lots of time before the Blessed Sacrament to meditate, time for confession and spiritual direction, time to pray and just to be with our Lord in silence.  Mass is celebrated daily.  Because of the behind-the-scenes retreat staff and the conference center staff, the attendees do not have to worry about a thing.  Meals are good, rooms are comfortable (not at all like the old Camp St. Malo) and the conference staff is available for chats or to help with any needs that may come up. 

I guess there is a place for both kinds of retreats in our lives.  I don’t think I would have been interested in a silent retreat at age 18, but nowadays, lots of young women attend.  I started taking my daughter when she was 12 and she was mentioning tonight that she thinks she has only missed two in the ensuing years.  (She is now 25).  The retreats of my youth were centered on others.  Retreats like this are centered on God. 

I feel so blessed to have spent this time.  I hope I stay on track longer than a day.  And Father reminded me to be joyful and to wear a joyful smile.  It was a weepy retreat for me because the lives of our youngest son, my husband and I will change drastically in the next few months.  Our son will either be going to the Air Force Academy or a Catholic University and the nest will be empty.  If you see me weeping or scowling, please remind me that I have every reason to smile because I am a daughter of God, no matter what circumstances I might find myself in.  And please reassure me that Mike is going to be just fine, wherever he goes.

 

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A Day’s Work Tuesday, Apr 1 2008

The weather this morning was such that we were all tempted to just pull up the covers and go back to sleep.  It was 19 degrees outside when we got up, the sky was spitting snow and the day was generally dreary.  But it was Tuesday, and Tuesday is breadmaking day around here, so I had to get up and at it.  Now I am at that point in my life where the nest is emptying, so why am I buying wheat in bulk and why did I spring for the machines to make bread in bulk?  Sometimes I wonder, but when I get to the end of the process, I know why.  One morning of bread making gives me all the bread our family needs for the week, plus it gives me a meal for the freezer if I make stuffed rolls or stromboli, and more bread, usually in the form of sticky buns, to share at work and with others. 

Kitty gave me a sourdough starter and I was anxious to try it.  The process went something like this:

  I started with good Montana hard wheat which I ground in a grinder      

Then I mixed the flour, sourdough         and other ingredients in a heavy duty mixer

     

While it was rising and baking we enjoyed the wonderful aroma.  Then, when I took it out of the oven, we all enjoyed the wonderful taste! 

Yes, there was dough in between the steps–I just forgot to take pictures of the dough rising and sitting in the pans to rise a second time!

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