Must get back to regular writing Day Book

Outside I am hearing  the tradewinds are breezing and we are being beckoned to enjoy the rest of the day outdoors.

Inside I am hearing children chatting with a Daddy they are so glad is home on vacation for a few days. My husband works a lot. A LOT. Having him home has been such a treat. For everyone! :)

On the Ipod I heard a song on The Good Wife this week and can't get it out of my head (or off repeat)

I am wearing my pj's. Still. It is almost 11. Time to get moving, I think. We are so into this this staycation thing. We do have plans today. Really. We will get there. I promise! :)

Living the Liturgy I'm enjoying praying the liturgy of the hours. I am really appreciating the ipod app from www.divineoffice.org I'm still waiting to find a real rhythm and groove. I do feel like I'm getting closer, though! I enjoyed reading this article. The author reminded me that even when we are pulled away to serve our family, we are still engaged in the act of prayer.

I am thinking I really, really need to get back to writing. I miss it. And, oddly, even writing this feels awkward which means it has been far too long.

I am praying for friends back "home" who just lost their beloved Dad. He was one of many people who left a clear bread crumb trail to the Roman Catholic Church for me. Eternal rest grant him, O Lord. Rest in peace, Paul.

I am realizing my family is now waiting on ME to get the show on the road.

At least I took one small step back toward blogging! :)

"My sweet Knitting Granny"

The day I was born my Paternal Grandmother began the campaign to have me call her anything but Granny (or Grandma or even Grandmother for that matter). Being the tall, blonde bombshell she was (and is) it was easy to assume it was all about age and beauty. Certainly this fashion diva in high heels wasn't ready to be condemned to a rocking chair and reading glasses in her early (enter censored age here).

"Maman" she said in her best imitation of a French accent. "You will call me, Maman". As a child, I remember hearing it as something along the lines of "Mee-Maw". But, it still didn't suit her. So. Says. I. And, so began a lifetime of two strong heads trying not to butt in to each other. Too often.

But, hey, I was a kid. So I won. It is only fair. I had other grandparents. I was no dummy. It at least had to start with the same sound as everyone else! Besides (and here is the kicker) it got (and to this daaay) gets a very "nice" reaction. :) My toddler-self decreed, I dub thee "Geema" (Say "g" like in grand. Gee-Maw"). And it stuck. With everyone. She loves me so very, very much for this. I think I might be her favorite. After all, I'm also the one who stole the peek at her license to get her real age. And, I've dug every family skeleton out of the closet. And, I buck all sense of fashion. Of course, I'm her favorite! (It is times like this that you hope friendly sarcasm actually translates into blog-speak)

My friends were gaga over Geema. She only visited about once a year--we lived near San Francisco and she is a So. Cal kind of gal. One time, she flew with her flight instructor right over our house. And waved. How many grandma's Geema's can you say do that?! All my life she has been a role model of persistence and courage. She is a woman who survived single motherhood in the (censored years here). She built a career with a large company as their personal travel agent and traveled all over the world. She dined regularly with CEO's (eventually marrying one--my beloved Grandpa John). She met presidents. Entertained dignitaries. And represented a life of glamor to a young girl growing up in the armpit of  suburban East Bay. I wanted to be like her. Minus having to think about clothes and fashion. And flying. I hate flying.


When I was around 7 (or 10?) my grandmother Geema started her own business. It was a fabulous little fashion botique. No, wait. A spectacular adventure travel agency. No, my friends. This high-flying, glamor diva with a cherry on top, this ageless beauty, this world-traveler, this Geema opened her very own... 


Knit shop.

He is risen!

It's not me...it is you

This Lent has been…well, different. At least for me.  At first glance it would seem that I have searched, and not found. I have asked and not been answered. I have looked to the heavens and cried “Where are you, God?” and the only answer I’ve had is my own disillusioned tears.

I began Lent with good intentions and found myself quickly distracted, breaking my promises and then wondering why my prayers seemed to empty into a vacuous void. I’ve been fearful. Cranky. Self-righteous. Look up the antonym for Holy and it probably has me listed as an option.

This holy week Good Friday seemed to mock me as we approached. I am not ready for Easter. I haven’t grown more holy. I’ve probably not even maintained the status quo! (Not to mention the plastic eggs and Easter clothes I am yet to purchase).

As I knelt upon entering the mid-afternoon heat of our Good Friday services I found these words spilling out of my heart “I know it is not about ME, my Lord and God. It is about you. Let me only see you right now. Let me only love you. Let me forget there is a me and gaze only at you. Forgive me for my selfishness and self-focus.”

His Mercy assures me it is not too late.

In a flood of images and feelings and thoughts I glimpse what it means to live in eternity. God is eternal. No beginning. No end. What happened at Golgotha 2,000 years ago is happening as much now as it did then. As much here as it did there. And, this moment in time touches that moment in time much like Madeleine L’Engle described the folds of a tesseract in A Wrinkle in Time. “But of this one thing be not ignorant, my beloved, that one day with the Lord is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.” 2 Peter 3:8

What wonderous Love is this?

Christ died for my sins.  Not my distant sins sometime 2,000 years in the future. No, my sins reach back and touch 2,000 years ago and his love and mercy reaches out tangibly and immediately to me in this moment right now.

I kneel to kiss the cross…

And time stands still 

and folds up 
and I am there at the cross with my Lord.

And I know he suffers and dies

…and it is about Him.

and what He did

for me.

It is not too late. A thousand years is but a day. It is not too late to look for Him. And find Him. And me. And you... Together in eternity.

Prayer for Government Leaders

Prayer for Government Leader

God of power and might, wisdom and justice,
through you authority is rightly administered,
laws are enacted, and judgment is decreed.
Assist with your spirit of counsel and fortitude
the President and other government leaders of these United
States.
May they always seek
the ways of righteousness, justice and mercy.
Grant that they may be enabled by your powerful protection
to lead our country with honesty and integrity.
We ask this through Christ our Lord.

From www.catholic.org