NEVER SAY NEVER

Hello folks,
I saw this on one of the Down Syndrome sites and just had to post it on my blog. It is so true! So pertinent to my experience! also, so close to all our lives and our daily spiritual walk. I attended one of Dr. Beckman's excellent workshops, back when Robin was quite little, endeavouring to learn all I could to help him develop as normally as possible. This lady specialises in massage therapy but more than that she has developed a unique method for oral motor intervention for our DS kiddos. Because of her techniques and the help I received in implementing those techniques, I believe Robin is as intelligible as he is today.

Never Say Never

By Beverly Beckham

"The tooth is missing. It will never come in. Missing teeth are common among children with Down syndrome," the specialist told my daughter and son-in-law months ago.

He didn't cushion his words. He didn't say, "May not." He said never.

And then last week, there it was - a lower right lateral incisor, next to her lower right central incisor, exactly where it belongs.

"Well, what do you know, Lucy Rose," I said standing all 35 inches of her in front of a mirror. "Look at what you have - a brand new, shiny, white tooth!" I called my daughter at work. "I know," she said. "I saw it this morning. Can you believe it?"

I can now. Because it is here in front of me. But I thought never, too. Because the specialist said. And once again, I believed someone I shouldn't have, someone who doesn't know Lucy.

She will never walk.

He will never speak.

She will never go to college.

She will never have a full set of teeth.

When you have a child with special needs - with Down syndrome, with autism, with diabetes, with muscular dystrophy - with anything that's chronic and defies a cure - you hear "never" all the time.

Doctors say it. Strangers think it. And it rubs off.

It's what we thought - Lucy's mom and dad, grandparents, aunts, uncles - in the beginning after Lucy was born and doctors and nurses looked at her, and us, with a "There, but for the grace of God, go I" in their eyes. It's a great misstatement, this phrase, a huge spiritual falsehood because it means that God withholds his grace from some people and bestows it on others, who are then spared from tragedy.

This isn't true. God doesn't withhold grace. In fact it was through the grace of God that Lucy came to us.

Lucy, who is almost four now. Lucy with her new front tooth. Lucy who has surprised doctors and keeps surprising us.

She made a joke the other day. We were in the kitchen and the window was open and I said, "Listen to the birdie, LuLu," because something was crowing madly in the back yard. And Lucy, who has heard me tease, a million times, that a cow says oink and a pig says meow - (And then she corrects me, because she knows it's a game) - looked me straight in the eyes, shook her head and said and signed "Mouse."

Mouse. Not bird. See how clever I am, Lucy was saying.

She is clever. And resourceful. Two days ago, she was trying to tell me something about a rainbow and was signing and saying "bow" over and over. But I wasn't understanding. So I was guessing. "Cookie? Ball? Outside? Plane? I don't know, Lucy. I'm sorry. I'm not getting it."

And instead of screaming in frustration or giving up - she never gives up - she sat still for a moment. Then she hopped off the couch, walked over to the TV, opened the cabinet door, riffled through about a dozen DVDs, found the one with a rainbow on the front and handed it to me.

"Oh! Rainbow!" I yelled like a contestant on a game show who through no skill of her own wins first prize.

"Yes," Lucy said. Then she hugged me and forgave me my incompetence and smiled.

Pre-natal tests target children like Lucy and doctors apologize when children like Lucy are born. Lucy is a child the world would choose not to have. Foolish, foolish world.

She will never do all the things that typical kids do. That's what the experts say. What they fail to mention is all that she will do.

I read this on a website recently and copied and pasted it in my journal. "Common characteristics observed in [people with Down syndrome]: natural spontaneity, genuine warmth, penetrating clarity in relating to other people, gentleness, patience and tolerance, complete honesty, and the ability to engage in unfettered enjoyment of life's gifts."

I watch Lucy and her unfettered enjoyment of life's gifts. I watch and I learn from my first grandchild, who is life's gift to me.

----------------------------

Don't you just love this! Our Robin is now 11 and he tells me with a deep John Wayne voice (his best impersonation and the one he uses when he wants to sound "cool)..."Mom, I"m big now, I'm not a baby" and he swaggers a little as he says it....what would I do without his presence in our life daily...I would be missing so much! We all would. He has no guile, he holds no grudges. Even when I sometimes find myself being impatient with him - he has no concept of going faster...no need to hurry - he takes his time and works on his own clock...I guess he feels he'll get there when he'll get there.....so even when I get impatient and might snap at him...he still forgives and gives me a hug or a peck on the cheek and tells me "I like you Mom"....how can one argue with that?

STILL VEERY COLD!

Brrr.....this cold snap has gone on long enough... - 40 and holding.....everybody is holed in their cabins.....kids stay inside and play table games...
Hope it passes soon...some say it will last for another 2 weeks.
Tomorrow is the big Buongiorne bash for NYears and then the community bash. I think fireworks are gonna be in order but hope it is not too cold to be outside!

No more for now...brrrr

SOMETHING FOR STEVIE

Enjoy 
starting your day with a smile/tear...

 
*The Folded Napkin**!* 


 

A Truckers Story -

Long one, but worth reading through.



I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. 
His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable  busboy. 
But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure  wanted 
one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie. 
He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and 
thick-tongued speech of Downs Syndrome. I wasn't worried about most  of  my 
trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses  tables  as 
long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. 

 The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy 
college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly 
polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching  some dreaded 
"truck stop germ" the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts 
who  think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those 
people  would be uncomfortable around Stevie, so I closely watched him for 
the  first  few weeks. 

I shouldn't have worried after the first week; Stevie had my staff 
wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my 
truck regulars  had  adopted him as their official truck stop mascot. 
  After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers  thought  of 
him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to  laugh 
and  eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt  and 
pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee  spill 
was visible when Stevie got done with the table.

Our only problem  was 
persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers  were 
finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from  one 
foot to to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was  empty. 
Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes 
and glasses onto his cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a 
practiced  flourish of his rag. 
If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added 
concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and  you 
had  to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met. 


Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who 
was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on  their 
Social  Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. 
Their  social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted 
they  had  fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him 
was probably the difference between them being able to live 
together and Stevie being sent to a group home.

That's why the 
restaurant was a gloomy place  that morning last August, the first morning in three years that  Stevie missed work. 
 
He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something 
put  in his heart. His social worker said that people with Downs Syndrome 
  often  have heart problems at an early age, so this wasn't unexpected, and 
there  was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape 
and  be  back at work in a few months. 
 
A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning  when  word 
came that he was out of surgery, in recovery, and doing fine. 
 
  Frannie, the head waitress, let out a war whoop and did a little 
dance in  the aisle when she heard the good news. 
Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of 
this 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside table. 
Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a  withering  look. 
He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked. 
"We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be  okay." 
  "I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him.

What  was  the surgery about?" 
Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting  at  his 
booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed: "Yeah, I'm glad he is  going  to 
be OK," she said. "But I don't know how he and his Mom are going 
to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting 
by as it  is." 
Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait  on  the 
rest of her tables. Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy 
to replace Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls 
were busing  their own tables that day until we decided what to do. 
After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a 
couple  of  paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face. 
"What's up?" I asked.  "I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were  sitting  cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete
and Tony Tipper were  sitting  there when I got back to clean it off," she said.

 "This was folded and  tucked under a coffee cup." 
She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk 
when I  opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed 
"Something  For Stevie".


"Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told  him  about 
Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony 
looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me another 
paper  napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two 
$50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, 
shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply: "truckers." 
 
That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie
is supposed to be back to work . 

His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor  said  he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday.  He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that  we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have 
his mother bring him to work . I then met them in the parking lot 
and  invited them both to celebrate his day back. 
 


Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he 
pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and  busing cart were waiting. 
 
"Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother by 
their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming  back, 
breakfast for you and your mother is on me!" I led them toward a  large 
corner booth at the rear of the room. 

I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched
through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth 
of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of 
the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner 
plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins. 
"First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. 
I  tried to sound stern. 
Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of  the 
napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he 
picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table. 
  Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from 
beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it.

I turned to his mother. "There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all  from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. 
"Happy 
Thanksgiving." 



Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering 
and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well. 


But you know what's funny?

While everybody else was busy shaking 
hands and  hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table. 


Best worker I ever hired. 



Plant a seed and watch it grow. 



At this point, you can bury this inspirational message or forward 
it, fulfilling the need! 
 
If you shed a tear, hug yourself, because you are a compassionate 
person.


Well.. Don't just sit there! Send this story on! Keep it going, 
this is 
a 
good one!

LAS AMIGAS CURAN!!

LAS AMIGAS CURAN

Interesante descubrimiento: un estudio publicado por la universidad de los angeles, california, indica que la amistad entre mujeres es verdaderamente especial. Se descubrio que las amigas contribuyen al fortalecimiento de la identidad y proteccion de nuestro futuro. Constituyen un remanso en medio del mundo real, lleno de tempestades y obstaculos. Las amigas nos ayudan a llenar los vacios emocionales de nuestras relaciones con los hombres y nos ayudan a recordar quienes somos realmente.

Despues de 50 anos de investigaciones, se identifico que existen sustancias quimicas producidas por el cerebro que ayudan a crear y mantener lazos de amistad entre las mujeres. Los investigadores, hombres en su mayoria, se sorprendieron con losresultados de los estudios. Cuando la hormona oxitocina es liberada como parte de la reaccion de las mujeres frente al estres, ellas sienten la necesidad de proteger a sus hijos y de agruparse con otras mujeres; cuando pasa eso, se produce una cantidad aun mayor de oxitocina, que reduce el estres mas agudo y provoca un efecto calmante. Estas reacciones no aparecen entre los miembros del sexo masculino porque la testosterona que los hombres producen en altas cantidades, tiende a neutralizar los efectos de la oxitocina; mientras que los estrogenos femeninos aumentan la produccion de esta hormona.

Despues de repetidos estudios, se demostro que los lazos emocionales existentes entre las mujeres que son amigas verdaderas y leales, contribuyen para una reduccion de riegos de enfermedades ligadas a la presion arterial y colesterol. Se cree que esta puede ser una de las razones de que las mujeres vivan mas que los hombres. Las mujeres que no establecen relaciones de amistad con otras mujeres, no muestran los mismos resultados en su salud. Asi que tener amigas nos ayuda no solamente a vivir mas, sino tambien a vivir mejor.

El estudio sobre la salud indica que entre mas amigas tenga una mujer, mayor es la probabilidad de que llegue a vieja sin problemas fisicos y llevando una vida plena y saludable. En este mismo estudio se observo tambien, como las mujeres superan los momentos criticos (como la muerte del conyuge) y se percibio que las mujeres que podian confiar en sus amigas reaccionan sin enfermedades graves y se recuperan en un lapso menor que aquellas que no tienen en quien confiar. El estudio concluyo que la amistad entre las mujeres constituye ¡una fuente de fuerza, bienestar, alegria y salud!

Por eso y por muchas cosas mas:

¡que vivan las amigas!

*que la justicia se ponga de rodillas*
*la tierra no es una herencia de nuestros padres, *
*sino un prestamo de nuestros hijos*

DON'T QUIT!

THE CONCERT

WHEN THE HOUSE LIGHTS DIMMED AND THE CONCERT WAS ABOUT TO BEGIN, THE MOTHER RETURNED TO HER SEAT AND DISCOVERED THAT THE CHILD WAS MISSING... SUDDENLY, THE CURTAINS PARTED AND SPOTLIGHTS FOCUSED ON THE IMPRESSIVE STEINWAY ON STAGE.

IN HORROR, THE MOTHER SAW HER LITTLE BOY SITTING AT THE KEYBOARD, INNOCENTLY PICKING OUT "TWINKLE,TWINKLE LITTLE STAR."

AT THAT MOMENT, THE GREAT PIANO MASTER MADE HIS ENTRANCE, QUICKLY MOVED TO THE PIANO, AND WHISPERED IN THE BOY'S EAR, "DON'T QUIT.""KEEP PLAYING." THEN, LEANING OVER, PADEREWSKI REACHED DOWN WITH HIS LEFT HAND AND BEGAN FILLING IN A BASS PART. SOON HIS RIGHT ARM REACHED AROUND TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CHILD, AND HE ADDED A RUNNING OBBLIGATO.

TOGETHER, THE OLD MASTER AND THE YOUNG NOVICE TRANSFORMED WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN A FRIGHTENING SITUATION INTO A WONDERFULLY CREATIVE EXPERIENCE.

THE AUDIENCE WAS SO MESMERIZED THAT THEY COULDN'T RECALL WHAT
ELSE THE GREAT MASTER PLAYED. ONLY THE CLASSIC, " TWINKLE, TWINKLE LITTLE STAR."

PERHAPS THAT'S THE WAY IT IS WITH GOD.

WHAT WE CAN ACCOMPLISH ON OUR OWN IS HARDLY NOTEWORTHY.

WE TRY OUR BEST, BUT THE RESULTS AREN'T ALWAYS GRACEFUL FLOWING MUSIC. HOWEVER, WITH THE HAND OF THE MASTER, OUR LIFE'S WORK CAN TRULY BE BEAUTIFUL.

THE NEXT TIME YOU SET OUT TO ACCOMPLISH GREAT FEATS, LISTEN CAREFULLY. YOU MAY HEAR THE VOICE OF THE MASTER, WHISPERING IN YOUR EAR, "DON'T QUIT." "KEEP PLAYING."

MAY YOU FEEL HIS ARMS AROUND YOU AND KNOW THAT HIS HANDS ARE THERE, HELPING YOU TURN YOUR FEEBLE ATTEMPTS INTO TRUE MASTERPIECES.

REMEMBER, GOD DOESN'T SEEM TO CALL THE EQUIPPED, RATHER, HE EQUIPS THE 'CALLED.' LIFE IS MORE ACCURATELY MEASURED BY THE LIVES YOU TOUCH THAN BY THE THINGS YOU ACQUIRE. SO TOUCH SOMEONE BY PASSING THIS LITTLE MESSAGE ALONG.

MAY GOD BLESS YOU AND BE WITH YOU ALWAYS! AND

REMEMBER , "DON'T QUIT."

"KEEP PLAYING."

TOO COLD AND DROPPING

Hello from the cold north!
Temp. has bombed out at -40 and dropping....much too cold for me. Seems we are having some folks coming back to the farm from various places. Jepsens are returning tonight, just got a chat from SJ saying they were in Anchorage, they will be bringing Kelsey back, she was visiting with her mom. Buongiornes are having the traditioal New Year's bash with just us and then joining the rest of the community for fun and games until midnight when we traditionally set off fireworks. We all mill around the Tab, eating, drinking (non-alcoholic beverages for those whose eyebrows might go up at the thot!), watching documentaries, playing table games and then going outside for the bonfire and fireworks. I will post in more detail after the fact.
Our family usually has a big feed just prior, cause the kids like it.
Well, no more to tell on such a cold day.....

OUR TRIP TO SPAIN, UK AND EIRE

HOME AT LAST!!

It seems incredible that already 2 weeks have zoomed by since my oldest son Pat Lou (17) and self have got back into the swing of things up here in frozen Alaska. I will try and recap for all, our whirlwind trip to Spain, UK and Eire (Ireland). I feel that many had something to do with the trip which was conceived about 2 years ago, actually in the heart of my son...he said to me one day: "Mom, why don't you take me to where you come from?.... I thought... what Argentina? "No! he said, "take me to Spain!"....weeelllll, OK, we'll see. That seemed a very far-fetched idea at the time, although I had been wanting in my heart of hearts, to go back to Spain and tie up some badly loose ends left unsettled-over 23 years ago, when I left in 1982. I thought I wld never get the change again, even though many of the brethren over there had been begging me for years to return if even for a short visit.

Motherhood and general business of life took over for the next 19 years and the last 7 were occupied mainly with caring for a "special" child....our young Robin. Although he is truly a blessing to all of us, he does take much of my time and energies so a trip to Europe was certainly not in the planning for me, since I am also his main caretaker and teacher. After checking things out and praying, both hubby and self felt that if this was to be God wld have to provide the time, and finances for it. Slowly during the lapse of a couple of years, money started coming in from different sources, donations, savings, my son worked for half of the cost of the whole trip.

We left on October 11 and came back on Nov. 15...35 days of an incredible experience for both of us.

Our main purpose was, of course, to catch the convention in Spain which is now held in Seville, a main city of about 2 million people. The brethren have purchased a lovely "villa" like plot of land with the sale of the original farm in Huelva, which used to be called "Los Veneros"....springs of waters....a misnomer since we never did find a good water supply. There are about 30 folks living around the area in their own homes but meeting in a common convention site which was built for that purpose. But I am getting ahead of myself.

MADRID:

After 23 years of absence I found Madrid to be very crowded and stressful. I took almost a week to tour the city's main sights on my own, leaving Pat behind with the Galapagar folks and kids...

Galapagar is situated in what is called the "sierras' or higher ground. Not really mountains but at the foothills. They do actually get snow up there and houses are mostly of the one story ranch style with lots of masonry and granite rock...The house was purchased by two families who are related by marriage and their children who are mostly grown but still live at home. I found everybody totally changed from my time with them, when they were either teens or in my PreK class in Madrid. A far cry from all of that, now everybody has grown up, married, goes to college or works....fortunately for my son Pat, most of the young folk either understand or speak English so he was not at a loss for fellowship. I think he really enjoyed his stay there. Since he was not interested in following my sister Karenza and self to visit all the "old fogies" from our years living in Spain in the 70's and 80's we left him behind took the public transport and visited to our hearts content. It was so good to have my sister there, for the first time in ages, we were carefree and just enjoying each others company. K left before I did to go back down to Seville, which is her home-base now, when she is in Spain. She herself had just come back from a visit to all the small towns up north and also to Tangiers in Africa...but that is another story.

I finally did get to see the Prado. The feckless Philips may have taken their country down the tubes on political and economic fronts, but the collection at the Prado is clear testimony to their interest in painting and sculpture, both local and foreign. I zeroed in on the Spanish painters: Velazquez, El Greco, Goya, Zurbaran, not ignoring Titian, Tintoretto, Durer, lovely Ruben's. For me, it wasn't the variety of the collection at the Prado which made it memorable as much as the extensive collections of single painters, notably Velazquez and Goya. Goya, I found very disturbing as Pat had warned me about them...the battle scene inspired by the spontaneous uprising of the Spanish people in Madrid against the French forces quartered there (1808; mostly Moorish conscripts), and the scene of Spanish soldiers being executed by the French...quite mesmerizing. Then of course, the Black paintings not only show man's inhumanity to man but also the painters inner convoluted self...the dark paint and gnarled nightmarish figures....not nice...

Pat was lured into one night of Madrid life...down the Gran Via, the main avenue...we were suddenly plunged into a festive crowd, also looking for diversion at the end of the day. Studying merchandise laid out on the sidewalk, flowered skirts, studded belts, leather goods, you name it. We listened to impromptu musicians (really good), playing the Brandenburg concertos, guitarists, Moors, etc. I was aware of more dark skin and kinky hair than in the 80's, evidence of the Arab and African connections to Spain. At about 7.30pm. When we had both had enough and were thinking about the 2 hour bus ride home, the crowd suddenly increased and I realized that, for the Spanish with their leisurely dinner hours, the evening was still young.

On our first day together Pat, self and Aunt K were able to see the Royal Palace in Madrid, he was duly impressed and especially his visit to the Royal Armory with all its life-size knights and horses in full armor...some of these rooms are still in use for special occasions.

Only about 25 rooms are on the tour, I believe there are about 1,000 rooms or more. Very ornate and glitzy...very Baroque and overdone but surely a work of art for the knowing eye.

We also went to the famous monastery in El Escorial which was only about 30' away from where we were staying with the Galapagar folk. El Escorial was built by Philip II as a palace to bury the royal families of Spain and while the tombs were quite lavish (green marble caskets in a black marble hall that was festooned with gold for the kings and pure white marble for the lesser types) the granite building is without embellishment, a giant prison. Myriad rooms and hallways, tunnels and cloisters. Quite fascinating although rather depressing....lots of college students attending the nearby university. One could hear the angelic choirs and musicians practicing, wafting up from the cloisters and hidden rooms.

TOLEDO

On our way back, to Madrid, I took him to Toledo the last and most famous of the Moorish strongholds. It is one of Spain's most beautifully maintained mediaeval cities and has been now recognized as an international "patrimony"....One can look down on the unidentified domes and spires, the shape of the Alcazar, the Tagus River with its high stone banks, embracing the town which at evening was bathed in a light that emphasized its creamy walls and red roofs. We visited the house of El Greco the Greek born, Spaniard who painted those typical elongated and ethereal depictions of spirituality. The church of Santo. Tome housed his famous "Burial of the Count of Orgaz". The Cathedral in Toledo is a riot of everything. Massive pillars, towering arches, somewhat over-decorated and overdone. We visited all the famous places, some very old synagogues dated back to the 10 century. The Jews have been in Spain since Roman times before being ex-pulsed by the catholic kings. The Museo de Sta. Cruz holds religious and architectural treasures and was well worth the visit and time. Originally a hospital built into the shape of a cross with wide arches and high wooden ceilings, it has become a place of treasures and remained an architectural treasure itself. If you had ever had to be sick with some horrible Renaissance disease, this would have been the place to be...a walk in the cloister alone would have cured you...We even had time to visit the Jewish museum, called "Museo del Sefradi"...housing mostly artifacts from the Romans times and basically dealing with one sect called "sefradites"...very interesting and educational to see how the Jews have played such an important part in Spanish history.

Toledo is a real working city as opposed to one preserved for the benefit of the tourist trade. At every turn one wld see real craftsmen working in the original Damascene embossing...the art of engraving and embedding precious metals like silver and gold into baser metals-like iron or copper. Of course, Pat could not resist the knife craftsmanship and would have bought the store if I'd let him. As it is he did bring back a very nice knife because of which I was holding my breath at all the way thru Customs...one could find the master craftsmen doing their thing right inside their shops....and not just for tourists...Toledo is one of the - if not THE - knife making Mecca of the world.

Pat got quite adept at navigating the maze of subways in Madrid and London and taking buses and trains, etc. For a first timer, I was quite impressed. He even brought himself home after we visited Toledo and almost scared his mother and the folks waiting for him at home, to death...he was supposed to take a number of buses and subways and then fell asleep on the last leg and went all the way up the mountain to the Escorial monastery, hitching a ride back down at 11pm..!! Not very smart but he had a big grin of accomplishment when he got home!

There is a funny story about our visit to Toledo.....concerning Bro. Buddy who was staying at the Galapagar house after the Seville convention. When he found out that we had taken the trip to Toledo with one of the sisters in the church in Madrid who also happens to be a prophet, he mentioned that perhaps we should ask the prophet to prophecy where Pat could be since we had lost track of him....I think I got the story right....second or third hand! Sorry if I didn't Bro. Buddy! :)

GIBRALTAR

This was a fascinating one day trip. An incredible mix of British and Spanish. The "llanitos" as they call themselves are really British subjects but are also "gibraltarians"....they speak both languages with a funny little accent which is quite not one or the other. Very friendly and amazingly skilled in driving acrobatics which is a must in the ups and downs of VERY NARROW streets...so narrow in fact that cars come out of the factory with retractable outside mirrors.....and even then they get sheared off....the Barbary monkeys brought in by Churchill during WWII are also quite a sight....they'll grab at anything and one has to hold on to ones possessions. Pat had a good time climbing the Queens Gatehouse (built in the 1800's), which was barred but he scaled it anyway, it goes up to the top of the Rock, almost 1800 feet, but he did not go up all the way because he told us that there was a fort with cannons and he got intimidated....thankfully! The Rock even boasts of its own cavern system with pre historic cavemen remains...

The Spanish brethren were very hospitable and could not do enough to make us comfortable, feeding us the amazingly delicious Spanish food, wines, fruits, dates, etc. In some places they had special fruit for me since they knew how much I liked it and how little we got of it in Alaska.

Everybody was very interested in watching my little home video of our Alaskan lifestyle and marveling at how one did manage up in the cold north....

Just to recap on the Seville convention. There was a good representation of FM. Steve Arsenault gave a very telling word on "why is the woman getting naked in the House of the Lord.." mainly dealing with the lack of modesty inside the church...this was especially conspicuous in the congregation...for some reason many of the female youth are not very modest...even my son remarked on it. The word was good...basically dealing with an inner change and not a status quo....God is in constant motion and change...we will miss it if we don't keep up....my sister did some interpreting as well as Martha (who is an excellent interpreter I feel - excellent command of both languages)...and another woman who has lived in South America for many years. I was glad not to get asked since I haven't done this sort of translating for many years and one loses ones touch...especially with Biblical lingo.

A highlight of the convention was that I was able to meet up with my friend Sara Correa/Weedman. We both worked on Sam Fife booklets for a while, translating them into Spanish and having them printed by Bill Bell...so very long ago it seems. We had kind of lost contact with each other and then she called me out of the blue and asked me if I was going to the Seville convention...what a coincidence! We ended up rooming together and catching up...found out that we both got married the same year....thanks Sara for a lovely time!! Hope we can meet up again soon...

Pat interacted very well with his peers but many times I would find him in the men's dorm just passed out with exhaustion....I think the culture shock got to him after a while. He kept asking me why every body "yelled" so much....did not get used to the level of decibels

SEVILLE

I did take one day to sight-see in Seville. A beautiful city with much southern Andalusia charm. I visited the Royal Alcazar which is a representation of Moorish architecture and splendor at its best. Although the building is empty it is an exquisite example of Arab skill and opulence. Young couples today use it as a setting for weddings and receptions...the only place I could get in without paying by just showing my Spanish passport...rather gratifying. I also ambled through the Jewish quarters, with its picturesque narrow streets, colorful balconies with hanging plants and dark faces peering at one through the window slits. Gypsies and moors and Arabs selling their wares on the sidewalk, castanets, fans, lovely shawls, etc. The cathedral had a queue (?) a mile long so I skipped it much to my hubby's disappointment....I got caught in the middle of a piquet strike of something or other rather scary...

After doing Seville, I went back to Alcala de Guadaira the place where Karenza is sharing a flat with somebody from the body there...and then we kept on sightseeing in the town proper which is also seeped in Moorish ness, boasting its own Moorish castle which is in a sad state of disrepair but very commanding nevertheless. It was just a treat to be with Karen and just wander around like two young girls....sort of recapturing the childhood we sort of were robbed of because of different circumstances growing up in Argentina...a nice time together...Alcala is a quaint city/town once called the "bread bin" of that area, and indeed there is a monument to the "bread maker" or "panadero" in their lovely little central plaza which incidentally also boasts one of the oldest olive trees still alive today, probably hundreds of years old....all twisted up and gnarly.

LONDON

After almost 3 weeks in Spain off we went to London. When we landed there we still had to take a train to my relatives who live in Reading. Fortunately I had knows beforehand that my aunt's place would not really be the best place to stay for Pat so we made a quick transfer to Gatwick and I put him on a plane to Dublin to spend some time with the family at Blessington, Ireland, or Eire, as it is also called. Turned out that was a good move because Pat totally enjoyed himself there...they operate more on a rural routine which is what he is used to up here in Alaska. He was surrounded by folks who spoke his language and had a lovely time. Jon Ritchie was ever so gracious to both of us and made sure our time there was well spent. He took Pat under his wing and sometimes I had to pinch myself to realize that this was the Jon I taught back here at The Land in third grade....time has a way of flying by and kids grow up and circumstances change.....Jon was a dear and we appreciated the hospitality and spirit at Blessington. It was good for me too, to get to know Cathy Giles and Allison who I had never met before. The large 600 year old 20 odd room manor house they all live in is quite unique and set in a bucolic and peaceful setting, with a lake and white woolly sheep and lovely gardens...the perfect setting! Pat want to go back this summer, so we'll see what develops.

While he spent 8 days in Ireland I was left to my own devices in London. I took one and a half days to sight see. I used to live in London in the 70's but as a working girl never did take the time to sight-see as I should have. The same thing happened to me living in Madrid for 10 years. Silly of me! So this was my time to do all the sightseeing I wanted. Many of the popular places like Westminster and St. Paul's were very expensive to go into and some were even closed. But I did get to go on a Thames cruise and a London sightseeing bus tour which was enjoyable. The only lack was that I was on my own....in between I fitted time to be with my aged aunt who is a missionary together with my uncle, to the gypsies in Spain and Cyprus. I also met one of my cousins who was very generous with his time and drove me back and forth to different church events my aunt was involved with. I took a day to go and see Oxford which was a lovely place to visit with all its churches, abbeys and spires and steeples. Steeped in history and traditions. Saw the place were C.S.Lewis spent so many happy years at the Magdalene college.

It was a real treat for me to have some time to see my cousin Lorraine in Bristol. I took the train to her city and we spent a very short but blessed time together...catching up in what little time we had. She was sorry not to have met Pat, he was in Blessington, as her youngest daughter Lowena was there and they are both the same age....next time....

Then it was off to Blessington for 3 days, pick Pat up come back to London and Reading. We took a day to visit the British Museum and Museum of Natural History, both of which are probably some of the best in the world. We walked and walked around until Pat told me he wanted to go back home. By then I think he was ready to come home.

I think that the worst times for him were the waiting at airports....he had books and then just roamed around. There were some scary moments for me in Madrid and London where he wld just forget he was in a big city and just barge off and leave me behind....this was probably the most stressful time for me, the fear of losing him amongst the hoards of humanity. We both concluded that Europe is too crowded, the oriental tourists literally come in masses and just run you down it seems. Too many people, too much pollution. Pat came back appreciating the vastness of Alaska I think....

He slept most-of the long hours crossing the ocean so much so that the BA hostesses asked me if he was dead...jokingly of course, but still-!!

When we got to Seattle we found that we had a 6 hour wait to board a flight to Alaska. I kept going back to the counter and finally got put on an earlier plane and got two free bonus tickets in the bargain... that was a good deal for us.

Pat got on the phone to his buddies as soon as we got to Seattle trying to squeeze 35 days of absence into 2 hours of talking. I think he was glad to be home at last and on US soil! No place like phone....

We found Europe to be very expensive, the US$ was weaker than the Euro and the GBP so one did not have much to show after the change...Public transport was very expensive...Reading to London for example was around $50 and we did that a few times. All of Europe and especially Spain is coming out of some sort of a slump and Spain is considered one of the countries which is undergoing the most development at present...I believe it! Everywhere we looked there were cranes and construction going on, so much so that some of the more popular sites were closed to tourists.

The trip was good, it accomplished the purpose for which it was done, it gave Pat a sense of being part of something far vaster than he thought at first, gave him a taste of other cultures and countries and how other people live, made him more appreciative of what he has back home.....the list goes on and on...

Needless to say my other children and husband were overjoyed at having us back. Robin was especially missing me and it was mutual. This was the first time we were separated since he was born. I will say that husband Pat did an excellent job of taking over my schooling for Robin for the 25 school days we were gone and I could not have done without him. Actually that was the sign from the Lord to me, that this trip was the right thing to do...my main concern was who was to take over Rob's schooling and when Pat said he would be willing to fill in for me...I took this as a green light. Everybody at school reported that they got along famously together and it was rather cute to see father and son amble onto school every morning.

A funny story here is that one of the teachers overheard my husband Pat telling Robin that: " today is October 15th...." turned out he was about a week off and the teacher eventually told him so....but not after hearing him telling his attentive pupil the wrong date for about 3 days! :)

Thank-you all who prayed for us and supported us in various ways. God is good and He brought us back safely home which is no mean feat, considering all the unrest in the world at present.

Blessings to all.

Gri Buongiorne The Land Dry-Creek Alaska

TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT...

Hello,
It is a lovely -18 outside with a fresh coating of fluffy snow...well..maybe not lovely but at least it is not -30.
Just a short note to say that we are all relaxing this quiet Saturday afternoon and what is commonly known amongst our circles.."laying low"...which loosely means not doing much of anything "community wise" - perhaps doing some reading, catching up on projects, visiting around camp or - for the more adventuresome - snomachining up the mountain! I guess laying low means whatever you want it to...
I am attaching some pics of a too friendly moose who ambled into our camp and is actually grazing on some leaves in Sis. Marilyn's backyard....too close for comfort. If I can, I will download the short clip where you can see it laying down its ears...as if to say: DON'T COME ANY CLOSER CHUM!....

HAVE A WONDERFUL WEEK END.

CAROLING, COLD, HOT CHOCOLATE AND COOKIES!

Hello,
Well we finally got the kids together for some caroling. Not all were kids, though, some adults tagged along, good natured but feeling the cold. Myself, Craig and Hanna Mason and Kathy Casey were the brave adults while some young adults such as Pat Lu, May and Erica also came. The rest was a merry band of youngsters who thought it all very exciting. Fortunately the weather helped out by only being -2 instead of -20. It felt quite cold to me.
Joe had a very good idea this year when he hitched up one of the sleds to two of the draft horses (I think Irish and Dew) and some sleigh bells. We sat on bales of hay and carried quart jars with little candles in them. Most of us had headlamps and some of us had red light bulbs in them which made for a VERY festive and appropriate setting.
We passed out our caroling booklets and sang merrily along as we lurched and slid and almost tumbled off the sled as it slid its way through snow and drift.
It was fun and nobody took note of the fact that we did not always know all the words to the songs. People came out dutifully braving the cold and watched us on their porches or sat inside in their living rooms and watched us through their windows.
Some extra excitement was had when Joe kept taking the sled through deep drifts or up against overhanging branches and everybody either almost got knocked off or doused with snow from the branches....
My humble camera was not able to capture the lights and decor various families had out, but I will include a few nonetheless....
Robin is wearing his headlamp and his neon orange snow pants, so he is quite visible. I kept asking him if he wanted to go home and get warm but he would have none of it...he wanted to stay.
After about 45' of lurching around on the wagon we finally made all our rounds and came back to the Tab for some welcoming warmth, hot chocolate and cookies.
It was a good time!

Next morning the official Christmas Day, being the 25th. of Dec. we came back to the Tab to eat a scrumptious brunch of:

English muffins
cheese
ham
cream puffs
scrambled eggs and grits
egg nog
coffee and hot chocolate

Thank you to all the ladies who made this possible. Rachel, May, Kim, Gri, Jessi, Kelly, etc.

So after the big meal, we hung around playing table games, messing on the computer, generally having a good time of food and fellowship.

HOPE YOU ALL HAD A WONDERFUL AND BLESSED DAY WITH YOUR LOVED ONES!!

gri et all

DON'T MESS WITH OLD LADIES !!!

An older lady gets pulled over for speeding...

Older Woman: Is there a problem, Officer?

Officer: Ma'am, you were speeding.

Older Woman: Oh, I see.

Officer: Can I see your license please?

Older Woman: I'd give it to you but I don't have one.

Officer: Don't have one?

Older Woman: Lost it, 4 years ago for drunk driving.

Officer: I see...Can I see your vehicle registration papers please?

Older Woman: I can't do that.

Officer: Why not?

Older Woman: I stole this car.

Officer: Stole it?

Older Woman: Yes, and I killed and hacked up the owner.

Officer: You what!

Older Woman: His body parts are in plastic bags in the trunk if you want to see?

The Officer looks at the woman and slowly backs away to his car and calls for back up. Within minutes 5 police cars circle the car. A senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half drawn gun.

Officer 2: Ma'am, could you step out of your vehicle please!


The woman steps out of her vehicle.

Older woman: Is there a problem sir?

Officer 2: One of my officers told me that you have stolen this car and murdered the owner.

Older Woman: Murdered the owner?


Officer 2: Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car, please?

The woman opens the trunk, revealing nothing but an empty trunk.

Officer 2: Is this your car, ma'am?

Older Woman: Yes, here are the registration papers.

The officer is quite stunned.

Officer 2: One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving license.

The woman digs into her handbag and pulls out a clutch purse and hands it to the officer.

The officer examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.

Officer 2: Thank you ma'am, one of my officers told me you didn't have a license, that you stole this car, and that you murdered and hacked up the owner.

Older Woman: Bet the liar told you I was speeding, too.



Don't Mess With Old Ladies.