our people

http://apocalypto.movies.go.com/

Having spent a month in the Yucatan; quite familar with this terrain,
and imagery. Even the blood gets due attention if you visit Quinta
Roo today. Reminder: this film is not for children; not sure adults
will stomach the violence, but true to the historic themes it is.

What's sad is how muted the Mayan are today; mostly farmers or
craftspeople living in a bad dream [tourist trap] run by the
colonialists. See Chiapas, or now Oaxaca for an example of how it can
go wrong. Con paz.

frank

crop duster

The plan arrived from the southeast; coming over the cemetery land as we stood on the edge of the farm property. About the same time Memphis was hopping cut down corn rows like she knew it from a far away past nobody had to remind her of. The corner well is still standing; not sure if it pours water anymore but the concrete has survived our place in it's history.

From snowballs to canyon roads to cut down grapes. Here we are.

con paz,
frank

calm down, please

It would be very easy for the Dems to head down a path of vengeance; to hunt down their enemies and drag them into court - as the GOP did to Clinton and his pals. But this is a waste of an opportunity. There are people still living in the streets of America; there are children who go to bed hungry or without a family. There are people without jobs. There are young people leaving K12 without a real education. There are elders who do not have basic medicine.

To me, there is no time for celebration as long as our fellow citizens are suffering. And to be very clear: both parties ran a very nasty set of campaigns; some could argue both sides of the aisle should have been cleaned out.

Point: Let's help our elected officials keep their eye on the ball; not wander off into destructive patterns which do not yield a better life for
all levels of our American society. Con paz.

frank

Near life experience

Blurry Saturday morning; there's even fog outside [to match the fog in my head]. Here we are, end of summer and wet grass not from rain [sure sign the new season is here]; put clothes back on the bodies. Look at yourself. Did you change this year? I was talking to Robert yesterday about how we can grow frommassive change within a compact timeframe.

This year, like 2000, feels ripe for a full blossoming. Thank you Father for trusting us with so much; stretching beyond our own arc; letting the soul expand to fill in the vast space that was always there. This is love.

Do you ever travel within your own city? Danny Woo community garden is a vacation destination. The Japanese aesthetic surrounds advanced gardening from complex people with simple touches. It looks busy from the street, until you start walking around in it. The architecture - mix of wood and organic life - blends elegantly. And yet the garden is bordered by an interstate on the east, the south edge of downtown on the north and west, and a business district on the south. You can't escape the noise, doesn't matter. Peace be with you.

Josefina passed us by on the way to heaven. She rests in deep peace now with Tony. What a great story. There are many elders, listen for their voices in the mid-day sun, right when it all gets confusing ["what do I do next?"]. We hear you.

There's a princess in the house; need to prepare the chariot. Con paz.

frank

Free Me, please

Imagine standing on the USA/Mexico border. You look at them as they look at you. Do they see freedom while you see slavery, or bondage? Depends on which side of this simulation you stand on.

What has always struck me as odd is how different the passage is depending on which direction [northward, southward] you're heading. Getting into Mexico, for most USA residents [almost typed 'citizens'] is uneventful, unless you're trying to bring a truckload of rifles and fresh cut weed into the country. In fact you keep going after crossing the border with almost zero friction, save for a few handout-seeking locals or local cops trying to make a meaningless bust an event [for dollar cash flow]. But heading into the USA is the grand sojourn, the right of passage journey made more spectacular with increased scrutiny applied to anyone with brown skin and eyes.

Today we celebrate independence from a mother country who just didn't understand the latest colony was not the same as those dark skinned people they previously conquered. We left their shores defiant, further empowered by surviving the journey across an ocean only crazy explorers and witches had the skills to master. And when they landed - this tiny petri dish of society waiting to mutate quickly, like a bacteria blessed with perfect conditions - the greeting was the first border encounter. One side looked at the other and wondered who was free.

Freedom is national, but it's also human in terms of natural drive to be unleashed from any restriction to complete awareness. We are species uncomfortable in chains, yet we have a long history of placing our kind in chains - real and virtual. I personally would enjoy spirited debate in the upcoming elections on the standard for freedom in the USA. Let's define it in words and actions every member of our society [again, not going to apply 'citizen' here] can agree on. Then we can move the masses toward this common definition. Who is 'we'? We are we; we are the people living in freedom, of some sort. Funny thing about freedom; you know it when you're not.

Bang bang; boom boom. Let the rockets red glare be bright in the sky above us; never to fall back down on any woman, child or man.

con paz,
frank

spank me

Damn hot in Seattle today; kind of heat where you can just go off on somebody [then say "sorry" later].

Quick poll: how many of you parents spank your children when they get unruly? Send me private email on the breaking point and technique. Results will not be disclosed broadly.

con paz,
frank

Smile

Great teeth. How many times has someone said this to you?

It's a funny thing : most societies around the planet do not emphasize great teeth as connected to great smile. I've seen fabulous smiles in remote places that had nothing to do with a recent visit to the dentist's office.

But we live in America and dentists need to pay the bills too.

con paz,
frank

4,500 Feet

Thanks to my Mother's DNA I am quite afraid of flying. And yet the view from the window of an airplane is like nothing else you will experience in transportation. At times it is so spectacular as to put you in the direct glory of Our Father.

Recently my friend Adalberto took me up to Friday Harbor [in the San Juan Islands] in a small plane. He's a new pilot; wanted to share the ride with someone on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. It was cloudless and warm; nothing obstructing our view except the bright sun.


The plane we took is made by a Canadian company, it's noted for being super easy to fly and maintains flight easily [because it's essentially a glider design with a small engine]. We travelled at a low airspeed but it didn't matter because the view of greater Puget Sound was worth the extra time.

The flight was uneventful [best kind] leaving room for the view to command our attention. What's not obvious until you have this kind of view is how much water surrounds the region from Seattle to Canada, and back. Each body of land [not water] is blessed with an abundance of lakes, rivers, tide flats or other tentacles from the Pacific ocean. We live in a region which thinks more about water from above [as in rain] while water below spills out across the landscape.

Lovely, so lovely. Con paz.

frank

Sixth Week of Lent

Note: this will be the last Lent reflection; next week is Holy Week; time to be quiet [if not silent].

uno. I lost my twin. His name is Frank Martinez. He's been at Microsoft since I joined the company, working in the Spain subsidiary. This week he announced he was leaving the company to retire in southern Spain. Now I will be the only frank martinez at Microsoft. It was an odd shock; made me feel empty at some level, like I had lost a part of my soul. Frank has always been there, we've exchanged mails over the years [but never met in person]. My friend Pedro has met him, apparently he's a very nice man, big family, originally from El Paso. Sometimes his mail would be sent to me by accident; I would chuckle [occasionally it was personal, and intimate].

We talked about a Frank Martinez reunion in the south of Spain someday in the future.

dos. Gospel of Judas discovered. Apparently Christ asked Judas to betray Him, to fulfill the divine plan. We shouldn't be surprised. Did we really think Jesus pulled a name out of a hat, to choose who from his closest allies would betray him? What's sad about this new discovery is how it probably doesn't change most folks impression of Judas; he will continue to be thought of as a pawn to Satan; an evil man who did a terrible thing to the Son of Man, then died ugly [hung himself] to preserve justice.

Yet what if Judas actually loved Christ more than the others? What if he pleaded with Jesus not to be chosen as the one to betray Him? Perhaps he agonized before Good Friday knowing the teacher he loved; the teacher who had revealed the ultimate plan would die from his act; his teacher's blood would drip from the kiss on the cheek.

It also makes me wonder about the private moments with Christ, what did his voice sound like, what did His hands feel like; what was it like to look into His eyes? He lead by example but He also lead by relationship. From what we can gather in the ancient texts His followers were independent, strong willed people. They needed something more than sweeping generalities to draw them into the divine mysteries. Perhaps this occurred in the quiet moments; when Christ spoke to them face to face, away from the crowds.

tres. Homework folks [work with me here]. This week bring your most inner pain to The Cross. What's the one thing blocking you from emerging as the brightest star? What keeps you up at night or what brings fear to your heart? When you crave, is it for a single thing [or wish]? Bring it forward. Perhaps you can't even describe it, but you can feel it deep inside. Freedom is there, waiting to release you. Bring it forward.

quatro. I have this dream... one day all weapons will disappear. We have only our bare bodies to combat with each other. Years ago I had this girlfriend who had a rule in relationships - if you have to fight, fight naked. Made sense to me, cuz fighting naked leads to better things :}

Let's give up trying to figure out why we fight. How we fight might need revisiting.

cinco. Buck Owens died. Remember, I was raised on a steady diet of "Hee Haw" and "Lawrence Welk". The influence on my adult life cannot be ignored. Most folks don't realize he was a great guitar player first, and continued to be throughout his career. It would be a small honor to learn some Buck covers, play them for Chula.

The guitar brings great comfort to my hands, a needed contrast from the keyboard/mouse.

ses. For better or worse we've allowed Memphis to become invested in the Miyazaki films; like "My Friend Totoro", "Howl's Moving Castle", "Kiki's Delivery Service" distributed via Studio Ghibli. The stories are so rich in detail [and nuance] told through spectacular animation, yet different than the Pixar films [both studios are superb animation teams BTW].

Deborah commented on how Miyazaki's films include redemption as a central theme. This makes me wonder about Judas; how he could have never been allowed to live a normal life after Christ's death [if allowed to live at all]. Remember doubting Thomas? What role would Judas have played after the resurrection had he lived; if not a strong ally to incubate the early church?

siete. A concord grape vine I planted on the eastside of the property seems to be making it. It was a hard winter, that side of the property is completely unprotected from the weather we receive on the hill [lots of wind]; but this single vine is hanging in there. Other than Chula it's the only living reminder I have of Sunnyside, growing up in paradise. Understand Thomas has vines from the farm [if I wanted a more authentic remembrance].

Sometimes I wonder if we can every return [as a family] to farming, living off the land. We're so removed from that life; like it never happened. The roots are there; I've seen lovely gardens visiting relatives over the years; clearly some of us have the gift to grow anything from the earth. Perhaps there's a difference between growing in pleasure [or peace] as opposed to having to survive from the garden's yield. A balance to consider.

ocho. Appreciate the patience in allowing me to share personal thoughts during Lent. So much change in the world, and in our daily lives. If it were possible to share these thoughts with every member of the family, I would have. You all remain in my heart, an extension of who I am.

con paz,
frank

Making it easier on the phone

Editor's note: a rare technology-centric entry until I can setup my own tech blog.

Have you seen the new Zillow site? It's a very cool use of Google Maps data, overlayed with real estate information. Unfortunately it best viewed on a traditional web browser, i.e. PC or [cough] Mac. This is unfortunate because some of us like to use our phones to browse web sites; and we expect even data-rich sites to play friendly.

So I need to develop a fix for this dilemna; create a mobile version which can easily [and quickly] be browsed from smartphone or PocketPC. Now here's where you can help:

• What Zillow features are a must have?
• Are the map images critical?
  
• Is navigation better using hyperlinks or scrolling down a long narrow page?

Answers to the above questions will help shape a prototype percolating in the brain.

Con paz,
frank

Fifth Week of Lent

uno. I would be remiss not to reflect on the shooting incident on Capital Hill last weekend. This story is sad on many levels; can't think of them all and will not attempt to cover more than a few areas.

One thing which occurred to me is how to interpret the rules of membership; specifically between minors and adults. Minors are essentially powerless to control the resources adults generally take for granted. Under 16 they cannot drive; they usually have little or no access to money and even if physically mature they are not emotionally ready to navigate the complexities of adult urban life.

Given all of the above [and more], there is an unstated contract which requires adults to care for minors in their environment - it's just what a civilized society does. For an adult to treat a minor as a peer is out-of-balance; leads to a breakdown of the unstated contract to seek the care of the minor as preeminent. So often - and clearly this was the case on Capital Hill last weekend - there is an implicit trust of the adults, from the minors point of view. When those teenagers walked into that house, after the rave party had ended; they carried certain expectations about how they would be treated. And their hosts , again from the minors point of view, were to honor these expectations.

So as the membership lines blur; where minors enter a world beyond their years, and adults are hosts to [essentially] children, may Our Father guard each to be stewards of a delicate but foundational relationship.

Now it's time to go off on the NRA. This man clearly had the will to kill but almost as important he had the means. The apex of his rage met with the tools of destruction; perhaps one fueling the other until it could not be contained. We may never know what set off the time bomb in his psyche but we can be absolutely certain of the mechanism. I would be interested to hear the NRA defend the recreational use of a pistol grip 12-guage shotgun. What sort of recreational activities does this sort of weapon require; other than pure destruction?

Christ was tempted in the desert; Satan offered the world, dominion and power over the world if Christ would bow to the fallen angel. Christ did not and we are asked in faith to follow the same decision against temptation. Yet guns seem to be the same temptation wrought on man to manufacture the illusion of power. What is a man with a pistol grip 12-guage shotgun amongst teenagers if not powerful [at least in the narrowest sense from within a selfish perspective]? What voices of artificial dominion haunted this man moments before he executed the will of this dillusional power?

Now the ultimate kneeling of my heart is to have mercy for this killer, for the tortured soul used to destroy other souls. Unfortunately I can't go there right now because it hurts to think about each of the young lives lost, imagining how Deborah and I would feel if it was our personal loss. Oh Father please have mercy on those families as they suffer so deeply.

And the vanity of guns extends to higher levels; when nations engage in war as a form of artificial power. Is power the opposite of peace? Is man seeking to control the illusion of power the opposite of peace? When a nation sends young men and women to a foriegn land to kill other young men and women, we load the weapons [so to speak] of abusive power. More to pray on.

dos. Father Harbaugh asked us to remember the homily he shared heading into Lent; can't remember it word for word but it was related to lamenting the condition of all people, remembering some do suffer, whether we like it or not. And sometimes those who suffer we may not like, or love. It's not going to be easy serving; especially serving those who are not whom we would choose to serve. This is conviction because it makes me think I don't have the right to be served; came here [existence] to serve. My heart should be beating to the drum of social justice; essentially the training I received as child to Chula. This was and is her life. Watch how she gives, how she has always given - even those she may not like.

tres. The guitar sits in the corner of the dining room. Why did it appear during Lent? This will be lifted in prayer. I want to learn how to play this instrument to express the deepest prayer; the wailing of our elders who have voices eternally calling out through each of us. They lived before us not by chance but by design. We can't run away from who they are or what they did on their best/worst days. It's one of the sad tragedies of our extended family, we know so little beyond a few incomplete stories. There are whispers of names and meaning behind the names but the whole story is a complete mystery. So let the mystery sing it's song; and we play music to pass it on.

quatro. Roman politics at work; at work. I was taught to seek leadership but question those who claim to lead us. Never take the command of a strong voice as final, or right. My place of work is the complete arc of these concepts played out; with characters drawn from blank pages trying to fill in with color. There is one good man in this realm who has become a member of our family through action as the support of each word. He has done what he says. I admire those who humble themselves before the priority of family - hard as this is on a daily basis - and quietly set it in motion as the model to follow. Again, this is rare in my place of work.

cinco. The leak stopped; thanks to Dennis and Denny. It was like Chinese torture; a constant flow of drips to drill into the mind and stir thoughts of torn down walls. Now we are [at least with this area of the remodel] at peace. Energy can be focused on other anxieties.

ses. Easter will be here soon. I miss you all. Can we still try to pray together; and for the children, fill baskets with goodies from the lawn? There's plenty.

See you next week. Con paz.

frank

Fourth Week of Lent

uno. First day of spring was glorious. The winter has been hard in the northwest - cold and windy rain so deep it makes you feel like growing bark to stay sturdy - so any hopeful sign of warmer weather was welcome to this out-of-region Mexican. Screw the groundhog! I don't care if it saw it's shadow; I felt heat on my back and it was a day out of the office. All good.

dos. First guitar lesson with Jack. Like me, he's from Louisiana; damn good old boy with cut sentences to make the talk linger well beyond our time together. My fingers hurt bad after one hour; but my mind was even more in pain; twisted about with music theory never learned during my years in the biz. Jack is a fine teacher, hope to make him proud with steady practice ["How do you get to the Paramount Theatre?" If I have to answer, don't ask.]

Memphis seems to be a natural on the Yamaha acoustic I found. She immediately started working out a simple song, plucking strings to match the lyrics she was singing. We're not going to force feed her music instruction BUT I do want her to master music theory so any instrument has a common frame of reference. I also want her non-dependent on other musicians to write songs - her songs, her voice, her life. The biz is heartless; less she has to count on strangers to make it... amen.

tres. First lunch with Steve in quite some time. Good to see him, hear his stories; good to break crab cakes for a Catholic avoiding meat. Wish I could have lunch with at least one cousin each week. He's got the reins for the foundation web site... I'm just the wizard of oz barking directions from the curtain.

Perhaps it's the man-to-man aspects of the lunch which still hold fresh. So few of us [men in the family] spend time together; communicate about hard life issues. The women [or so I am lead to believe] do it without effort. If men are the perceived leaders of the community, or at least our families; shouldn't we discuss where we're leading everyone else? Do we have a plan? Or do we know the destination?

It's a sad reflection, but the most memorable male talks drawn from childhood are with Bud Shearer, Chris's Father. He was the next bigger-than-life character after Grandpa died. You never forget how people like that affect you.

quatro. First time I saw an animal slaughtered was as a child. It made sense because the entire cycle of primal process was exposed to me, living with Chula. She transformed the slaughtered animal into food; helped me grasp why their lives became our survival. And she reminded me never to name the animals [especially any outside the cats and dogs].

You give up meat for a while, what is it really? And what's the core relationship to it? Sunday New York Times has a piece on getting intimate with meat eating by going through the hunting experience; forcing a connection with what we ingest with what we have to kill. I haven't read the piece, just the summary; but expect it will take me back in time to Sunnyside slaughter jobs. Back then we hired this guy to come to the house and slaughter the larger animals; like a cow. The first thing [for me] you have to reconcile is blood. There's blood when the slaughter happens; then there's blood in the kitchen while the animal parts are getting transformed into meal ingredients.

But could I kill today? Or is meat so important even a slaughter job wouldn't stop me from getting a nice steak now and then? Wayne hunts; sounds interesting. Just not sure I could do it. And most certainly I couldn't do it at our house; as in raise a steer to maturity, then slaughter it and turn parts into ingredients for our favorite dishes.

Here's the truth... even though I gave up meat for Lent, don't really eat much. Chicken yes. Could raise chickens. Beef? Very little. There's something sacred here to muse on into next week's reflection [probably related to sacrifice]. Plus I'll read the NY Times piece and get back to you.

cinco. First love was a girl from Sunnyside, Lisa Trudeau. It was not a sensual relationship yet it was the first experience with intimacy. No kissing, just talk, listening to each other grow in our adolescent selves. The desert of Lent seems similar, where few words are spoken but the bond grows if you can put aside the sensual desires. My God it's right in front of us, how can we not see it?

BTW: Lisa was also my first introduction to Latin/Anglo chemistry. Evonne will dislike me saying this but it made sense then and even more now. Contrast seems like a natural evolution; especially when the offspring display the attributes from which they came. Who believes we are born of pure blood? Consider the melting pots which were [and still are] the Iberian Pennisula and MesoAmerica. Different folk just hooked up - and here we are. Back then I could have asked Lisa where she was from, what was her culture; and she might not have had as crisp an answer as I, but did I really no more about origins?

Be in love with humanity; because there is a common source [if only we could accept this; stop the killing].

ses. First thing in the morning, the offspring wants to play. I have to thank Chula for passing on genes to wake up Memphis at 6AM - on a weekend! Maybe it's spring fever. Regardless it's fresh cappucinos for this papa. I've joked recently [maybe more reality than joke] we need a two hour nanny, to cover the 7-9AM slot on the weekends. This make believe nanny would make sure there's food, drinks and plenty of book reading. And if she wants a tip, she makes my coffee too :}

Memories of Sunnyside recall the morning hours as most holy, like the greeting time with Our Father, where prayer is clear and fresh. Smells are different, light is different, heartbeat is different. Even the cemetaries seemed serene first thing in the morning; standing on our humble concrete porch. And this time of year was like a bloom explosion; so many fruit trees trying to compete for my eyes, showing off tiny flowers.

So thank you Memphis, for waking me up.

See you next week. Con paz.

frank

With Needles

Sarita's needlework; she can provide more context on the kind and inspiration.

Lovely, quite lovely.

frank

Third Week of Lent

uno. Tired, and tired of being tired. So damn tired feels like I can't sleep. Ever been this tired? I love the endless energy from chasing an age four daughter around the house, but clearly her energy exceeds mine; so the endless energy is limited to one of the two parties involved. At one point I just laid in bed numb from exhaustion.

You have to envy how easy Jesus had it in the desert... get tempted by Satan, eat basically nothing but sand dust and dew; no schedules, no commuting, just pray all day. He took on the weight of humanity out there [and this sinner is forever grateful for it] but I'm feeling a bit of the load lately.

Chula taught me not to complain, so take this as appreciation musings :>

dos. Full circle in giving; and children. I started donating to Child Haven years ago. Then Deborah and I continued after we met; mixed DNA and all wordly possessions. It was a drop-to-your-knees validation of faith to see them recently move into a new facility that is the envy of any non-profit organization. Previously they were in this dumpy little house; trying to serve more children than possible; trying to keep the program going. And now [at least operationally] they're thriving.

But to have Child Haven thriving means more kids are being abused; screwed up by their families. In my perfect world [perhaps not Our Father's] Child Haven wouldn't exist; wouldn't need to exist.

Memphis attends a great little school; and some of her classmates are from Child Haven. We all talk about multi-cultural; but this sets up her school environment to be multi-situational. I never want her to be embossed with "elite"; for her to believe she deserves to be seperated from humanity because of any categorization we place on ourselves. It's a hard fight; giving to your child without it transforming into an expectation.

There probably could have been several Child Havens in Sunnyside, when I was growing up there in the '60s; because families just get screwed up for one reason or another. But there wasn't. Chula didn't let me get caught up in 'things'; instead she drove deep and hard lessons about core attributes people need to mind, or get lost. I was like the stubborn daughter of Deborah and frank; not wanting to listen when a lesson was there to learn. Thankfully the message stuck - take care of the children; keep trying to make every day better.

tres. Farmer's Almanac is founded on the premise of lunar cycles; watching Luna go through birth/death [rise/set; crescent/full]. We're a family deeply affected by these cycles; and last week's full moon felt especially heavy. I've been blessed to see Luna in some of the most beautiful places on this planet; it's like a constant beacon to remind me of Our Father [and Mother's] beautiful creation, how the universe is grand and open but also personal.

quatro. Fender bender on I-5; jammed up people on the way to? When motion of civilization stops; or at least pauses for a moment; it's fascinating to watch how people embrace it or challenge it. I can imagine meeting Christ in Palestine to be similar; like time stopping for a moment. There might still be motion all around but the center of engagement is quite, and still.
cinco. This is another dream of mine; to have the larger, extended family pray together in one space, at the same moment. Imagine if we all gathered in a vast, open field; knelt together, quieted our busy minds and began to enter holy space as one - not seperate people praying -but as one tribe. Do you think we could hear each other's hearbeats? Could we feel the subtle gust of wind from our collective exhales? Could we smell the tears falling down our faces, dripping into the soil beneath our feet?

"Let go of your fear" someone once said.

ses. Bought an acoustic guitar to celebrate software my team just shipped. It should work to get us started; probably take lessons with Mr. Jack. Songs been playing so long the limbs start humming to get them out of the body. Music is prayer, no?

See you next week.

frank

Second Week of Lent

uno. Remember how important tools are? We bought this wheelbarrow from someone in the Micronews. It came in a box with a million parts [yes, an exaggeration] and a wheel. I was tempted, just for a moment, not to follow the instructions and just try to assemble it. Decided to follow the book and was lead to success - we now have an awesome, industrial strength wheelbarrow!

There are probably other opportunities to "follow the book" and end up with good results. It's hard, because our nature is to go it alone, or without direction, and just figure it out. Trust me; I'm a huge fan of trial and lots of error. It doesn't have to always be this way. We do have instruction [or guidance] available, if we ask.

dos. Paul's birthday last week. Not sure if anyone quietly celebrated in his honor. He never made a big deal of this day in the past; kind of how he approached things. Give others the attention. Hope it was a peaceful day for our cousin in eternity.

tres. Food poisoning in Cafe 9; vegetarian Indian food. It's no fun being sick to your stomach [and beyond]. Most of us can handle pain and illness, but tummy illness is the worst. It's messing with primitive functions; and we are a family that loves to eat. And yet it turned out to be perfectly aligned with Lent; the fasting from that which draws us away from Our Father. I paused before cramming my tummy with food after being completely drained empty. It's back to remembering the homeless; those who don't have resources to fill their tummy or who are constantly sick. Please pray for them.

quatro. I gave up meat for Lent. Didn't think it was going to be a big deal. Wrong! It's been very hard to fight the urge to nibble small amounts of meat. Maybe I should assign Chula the credit for nurturing me into a carnivore par excellence. Meat is an instant craving every time I'm hungry. Replace every meal with non-meat recipes, just try it. It's another wandering in the desert exercise; denial of self to arrive at the humble state of a servant in training. I am finding my locusts and honey.

cinco. Friday night at St. James cathedral for the Rite of Election ceremony. I'll let Deborah share this herself; it was beautiful. Evonne et al took care of Memphis while we were there. Back at her house it was pure joy to watch her play with cousins; because this is what we do, we play with each other, even as adults. We are connected, and it's so obvious when a few of us gather.

ses. I'm tired of the war, tired of hearing about it, knowing it's out there and happening every day. It would have been very cool to have it suspended for Lent [oh the arrogance]; but the fight rages on.

siete. Create art. If we take the time to inventory how many of us create art... it's quite a pool of talent. Someday I would like to start an exchange so we can all share each other's work, celebrate it then pass it on to our children. For me the next frontier is back to music. There are so many songs percolating in my heart; the arrangements have worked out over many years. I'm on the hunt for a good acoustic guitar to start working simple chord structures, see what emerges.

Want to hear a dream? I would LOVE to hear the harmony created from our collective voices. Perhaps we can't all sing [at least by professional standards] but we can all make sounds with our voices. How many have tried? Don't be suprised if I show up at a reunion with portable recording gear. If you have sound clips of your singing voice, please send it to me.

ocho. Who do we honor? The future is aging, I'm not a kid anymore. The elders speak in long sentences during prayer sessions. But who are they? Who are the names which should spill out from each reflection? I don't need stories but do want signposts to follow into reverence. So much pain and suffering came before us. My life today is built on the backs of others before me, taking risks and giving to what is core. Who do we honor?

nueve. I'm trying out a new Pocket PC phone. It's bigger than my smartphone was; but the features help to ignore the size. What does this have to do with Lent? Maybe nothing. But my hope is that it provides a tool to build quiet spaces [for example listening to music during a writing period]. It's also an archive tool; to collect pieces along the journey. It all goes to Memphis someday.

Kiss the one you love. See you next week.

frank

new post to vanbelleroad

Sorry for the delay on this`s weeks Lent reflection.

frank

--
frank[ie]
"I thought the only lonely place was on the moon"
- Paul McCartney

Paul's Birthday Today

Very stormy in the Pacific Northwest today. Paul would have been inside presumably, going over the coaches stuff.

Rest in peace brother.

frank

First week of Lent

1. Had a great breakfast with Evonne last Saturday; try the Hawaiin french toast. I was telling Wayne recently what a great model of God-child/God-parent our relationship has become, but it takes years to develop, so he has time to get it going with Memphis. Evonne has been my Dear Abby for so many years... hard to imagine what it would be like without her shoulder to cry on. There was a gentle debate about the Sally Clark selection to the city council [I worked with the lesbian mafia at CSB; they are very clubby but they took damn good care of me]; which was a safe choice for a political org not used to taking risks. Apparently Evonne had a friend who was also on the short list. In general Evonne is doing incredible work with youth; and I admire it all [cuz someone has to do it!].

2. Ash Wednesday service was like bliss; got to sit in on the kids version, where the kids get to put ashes on the other kids [and adults]. You see kids getting raised in the church... life just seems perfect at some level; what a blessing. The potluck afterwards degraded into daredevil stunts where the little kids laid down on the ground while the other kids jumped over them [Who thinks of this stuff? Reminds me of the stuff we did with Ana and Dan's kids at the house.].

3. Had some nice visits with Chula recently; she continues to evolve into a single bright light; where the glare is enough to warm you for several days. I will never, ever tire of being in her presence. We did a detour stop at Archie McPhees for cheesy toys [kind of Mardi Gras release]. There were a few items I wanted to buy Chula, Deborah thought they would be inappropriate for my profoundly Catholic Grandmother. Has anyone been to Ballard lately? They're like trying to turn it into a real destination; with culture and everything. They even have homeless people! Anyway Chula was telling me about attending church as a little girl; the promise she made to her husband [my Grandfather] about remaining a Catholic. Very sweet. I love holding her hands; it's like holding eternity.

4. Got this kick-ass cold on Wednesday; it was so bad that on the way into work had to pull over and go hunker down in a gas station bathroom and do the thang. Sucked. But nurse Deborah did the medicine and I feel much better today. Lots of folks sick on my team [not suprising given the insane hours we all work here at the evil empire]. Lesson: eat well, play hard, pray like a saint.

5. Josh/I had to opt out of the foundation web site Susanna is setting up for Paul. We're both slammed with work, just didn't have the extra time to meet her deadline. At least they have a domain to work with; should be straightforward to get the rest completed. Josh started a new gig in mortgage banking; yet another adventure for a fine young man [wonder when they're going to have children?].

6. Bathroom remodel is on schedule [whatever that means]. It's been a gas to watch Deborah deal with a pack of men who aren't used to a strong women telling them what to do. I can see them looking at me like "Can you step in here please?" No. She's doing a great job as general contractor, running their little butts all over the place, we're getting a pretty sweet setup as a result; despite a few bumps in the road [or was that inspection]. Many thanks to Dennis and Wayne for their encouragement and assistance.

7. And Ms. Deborah is now white [as if we didn't know this]. I defied the Redmond gods and bought her Apples. They're actually very cool machines but not my style; too used to Windows boxes. It's interesting how new Apple owners immediately snap into the 'lifestyle' personna. Steve must be doing something right. We're dumping MS stock and buying Apple [and Disney]. Amen.

8. Tyler is one year old this week. He's such a little buddha; and Wi/Mark are so locked into loving him like crazy. Memphis still isn't sure what to make of him; he likes to grab her a lot. Birthday party tomorrow.

9. We did the first parent conference with Memphis's teacher last Friday. It was a hint of things to come. She's way ahead of her class, on many levels. It frustrates me but have to let it go; they're pros, they know what they're doing. Deborah is monitoring it closely. Evonne gave me some great advice on how to think about it. Memphis loves her classmates [and other children in general]; it's all good. She is craving a sibling... more on this later.

10. Prayers for the week. So many areas of pain in the world right now; where do we start. Lately homeless people have really been on my heart. It would suck - I mean down to the bone suck - to live in a cold alley with the weather we've had this winter. And add children to the mix and it's just raw. Father please help them, and help us to help them more. The broader family is always in my prayers. Evonne has to tolerate my utopian ideas about how to re-connect our large family; I know it's just dreaming but you have to have dreams, no?

11. Sarita is talking about a cousin reunion; I'm game if we can agree on logistics [not easy]. Kind of think Los Angeles would be fun; hang out at the beach then do a road trip to Tijuana. Can you imagine all us cousins taking a bus to a Mexican border town; cutting loose. Wonder who would end up in jail. Street tamales are on me.

Have a great weekend; remember to kiss the one you love. Con paz.

frank[ie]
"I thought the only lonely place was on the moon"
- Paul McCartney

Go Seahawks!

Today the Seattle Seahawks host the Washington Redskins in a big time NFL playoff game. This is exactly the kind of game cousin Paul would have been amped up for. He loved the game; and he loved the playoff intensity even more. He also loved being there in person, so it's very likely he would have been at today's game in full rabid-fan mode.

So lift up your favorite soda or juice; salute the Seahawks and one of their great and now immortal fans.

frank