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Leg, There's The Rub

Our dog only uses three legs.

Periodically over the past year or so, Winston - our increasingly special needs dog - has occasionally started to hobble, holding his right hind leg up as he walks. On previous occasions I've attributed this essentially to sloth...I figured his foot fell asleep since that's how he spends the bulk of his time and energies...sleeping.

Usually after a few days he'll start using the leg more and then, although he's always been klutzy, he's back to normal...or as normal as he ever gets.

For the past several weeks though he's continued to be a tri-pod...albeit a happy little tri-pod.




Winston is a dog that can be manhandled. In fact he loves to be rubbed, scratched, rolled on his back...let's face it, he enjoys abuse. I've checked that leg, pulled it, rubbed it, bent it like a Gumby...and the only response from Winston has been reminiscent of the line from Oliver, "Please Sir, might I have more?"

So then Amy and I figured it's a hip issue. I've picked him up, pushed him down, rolled him over, tugged, and twisted his hind quarters and the response? You guessed it...complete contentment.




The other morning Lee, apparently oblivious to our numerous conversations about Winston's wobble, suddenly took notice of it and screamed for Amy who came running only to give Lee the less than satisifying answer of, "Oh. You're just noticing that? We've been trying to figure out that one for a while."


It's not like we're being mean...if the dog exhibited pain in any way we'd be rushing him out the door like a life insurance salesman and taking him to the Vet...but Winston doesn't seem bothered at all. I mean he couldn't care less. Not a whimper...not a whine. This is a dog that howls when the wind changes direction...but the lack of use of his his leg is apparently of no consequence to him.

We'll of course take him to our veterinarian...the dogs are overdue for their shots anyway.

I'm equally certain our local animal doctor will be able to run a gazillion tests costing us a gazillion dollars.


I'm only worried that the tests will reveal something I've suspected all along.

We've spent the past few weeks pampering a dog who really likes a good massage.

My Father's House

It's a running gag at our church that I have been plagued by piles.

Since before we built our first building it seems there has always been a pile of something - dirt, crushed granite, mulch, pebbles, tree limbs, and or rocks - stacked in a prominent place on the property. Oftentimes the makers of these piles plan to remove them right away...but time intervenes...things get in the way and eventually people simply get used to driving up to the church and seeing a stack of lumber or some other pile of debris. In truth, most folks don't seem bothered by it and I suppose that's a good thing to a degree, but it usually bugs me. I have been known to move piles, throw away piles, shovel piles and shift piles to at least get them out of view.

My friend Ben, who also takes pride in the church landscape, once said to me as we hauled away a pile of something, "These folks who put this here may have had good intentions...but this is Our Father's house!"

I thought about that today as I read about the church near Houston which is giving away a house on New Year's Eve to boost attendance. Is that really why they're doing it?

The article says,"At Saturday's service, 20 names will be selected at random and placed with 100 others chosen from services throughout the year. Twelve finalists symbolizing the 12 apostles will be selected."


I couldn't help but think they've mistaken the Gospel for a game show. The Pastor says he knows some people will criticize but it will "show people that serving God is fun!"

I'm one of those weird folks who actually believes serving God is fun...but I don't really see God too clearly in stunts.

I'm not even opposed to gambling...I've been known to wager (not win but wager) on a rare trip to Las Vegas. I've even bet (bet not won) on the horses that run at a track less than a mile from our home.

But...a house lottery...inside a church...with 12 finalists representing the Apostles?

Someone hand me a shovel.

This is Our Father's house!

You're Not Listening

You're not up this morning listening to the radio...don't worry, I don't take it personally...but some of us have to get up and pretend that people are listening to the radio today. I'm one of those people. I came into work for a few hours to write stuff that some other poor schmoe will have to read over and over and over again until some real news breaks out...like the malls open.

In case you got all caught up in the spirit of Christmas and actually missed important news over the past few days let me give you a recap on a couple of stories of vital...er mild...well, that are completely trivial.

First off, Jesus Christ is now walking the streets of New York. He could be driving for all I know, but a judge on Friday granted a guy named Jose Luis Espinal permission to legally change his name to Jesus Christ - effective immediately. Espinal...er Mr. Christ...said he had to seek the legal name change because...well, because he believes he is Jesus Christ, but no one else does. He's hoping with the name change he can get his driver's license, electric bill, American Express card, and the like to bear witness for him. Who would have thought when Christ returned we'd require two forms of I.D.?

This other story is not related I'm sure but while Jesus may be in New York...the "Nun Bun" is on the run in Nashville. The "Nun Bun" had its 15 minutes of fame about 10 years ago when the owner of a coffee house claimed a cinnamon roll in his shop looked like the now deceased Mother Teresa.



This was apparently not so much an act of thievery as one of liberation. Mother Teresa at one point wrote to the coffee shop owner asking that he not capitalize on her image...real or imagined. To his credit the guy did stop selling t-shirts, mugs, and prayer cards featuring the cinnanun. He did however keep the shellac-covered pastry in his shop and the burglar who waltz off with it didn't take anything else.

The owner is convinced the nun bun won't show up on eBay...he thinks the bun bandit will destroy it.

Sacrilege is a two way street I suppose...as crummy as that may be.

You can go back to sleep now.

A Child Is Born

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." Luke 2:8-14


Merry Christmas...May God bless each of you as He has so deeply blessed us.

Michael & Amy

If Santa Shows Up I Hope He's Had His Shots

T'was the morning before Christmas...and the coffee is perking. I'm wide awake because Lee is working.

Sorry, I have no poetry in me yet. Lee had to be at work at 6:45 so I got up to drive her.

I spent much of the past two days in bed. Amy is still recovering and I have a lingering cold that seems to wipe me out by mid afternoon...so, bring on the DVD's.

Christmas for the most part has come and gone although we'll attend Christmas services tomorrow.

Lee and the kids are going to visit the couple who brought them here in Athens, Texas next weekend so we'll usher in the New Year without our adopted family. We (thanks to RLP readers) bought them bus tickets for part of the journey. It will give them some time to visit and be away from San Antonio...and will give Amy and I some time together. We'll be reunited in the New Year and hopefully get moving on helping the Gomez family become independent...our goal for 2006.


Right now though, my goal is coffee.

Strangers Among Us

We had our Christmas on Wednesday, since Amy has surgery today and it was the only day all our kids could be here to grab their loot. It was still perhaps the best Christmas I have experienced in years as we were able to see genuine joy and appreciation from our Gomez family contigent.

They helped remind us all that this is a season of "giving."

Amy and I received one gift which we will especially cherish...a hand-drawn book by Ana,whose art talents are admittedly raw, but pure. Her emotions are genuinely innocent and true. The book needs no further explanation from me.



















Although Ana's book was a gift for me and Amy and meant to convey her appreciation, there are a lot people we can thank for helping us provide comfort to the Gomez family. We can also thank Ana, her Mom and brothers for giving us something beyond value...a reminder that when we become so bold as to imagine we know God's intent...to think we "see" and "understand" how He is using us...He is, as always, teaching us.


...it is giving that we receive it is in pardoning that we are
pardoned and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

The Three Wise Rodents

Today was Christmas at our house, for reasons that don't need to be repeated. It was wonderful. Amy prepared a delightful meal. The giving spirit exceeded the level of selfishness for the most part.

By far the most delightful gift Amy & I received was a hand drawn book from Ana. I can't do it justice now but will share it over the next day or two I promise.

Right now I only wanted to share a little silliness sent to me by a dear friend and member of our little band of believers.

I thought I had seen about every possible tacky manger scene...but I must admit I have overlooked the Three Wise Ferrets all these years, which I might add has given me something else for which to be thankful.




Note the "Wise Ferret" closest to the baby Jesus ferret - is that a box of raisins?

Christianity On The Edge

John and I went to a Spurs game the other night. The Spurs eked out a win over the Sacremento Kings. It was a good time...although the game was closer than the Spurs should have allowed. While there I noticed the tattoo on the arm of Kings point guard Mike Bibby.





While doing a little research I found a quote from Bibby explaining the tattoo, "I'm a religious person and I wanted a cross". That seems straightforward enough.

My nephew Matt has a tattoo of a cross too.



When I was growing up, people with tattoos were usually people with regrets...and/or prison records. It's changed now...I have dear friends with tattoos...Amy occasionally threatens to get one. So far I've been able to talk/threaten her off the edge of that decision.

Anyway...I was thinking about how Christianity has changed. How folks with tattoos aren't drunken sailors, some times they can be good Christians and even use their tattoos to declare their faith. Christianity has an "edge" to it these days.

I read an article about that exact thing. Christian "heavy metal" concerts...churches organizing "cool" youth events...etc. I don't really have a problem with that either. Christ uses lots of tools to get our attention...it's what we do with it once He has us that is of larger concern.

Being a "cool" Christian...proclaiming our faith with tattoos or soapbox sermons...that is not for me to judge. I too came to Christ through the less than conventional route, although I avoided the tattoo parlor along the way.

Maybe churches do need to "be cool." Maybe we need tattoo artists, Woodstock-like concerts, and maybe we all need to lighten up about this "God thing" so people won't be driven away.

Maybe.

But some day the heavy metal and all the noise has to stop. The crowds have to disappear.

I believe that as we travel along an honest journey of faith eventually a heavy silence has to set in and then it's only you and God.

We can spend our time focusing on the "emerging church" and debating whether "organized religion" - which seems like a misnomer to me - is "doing it right." Those debates are fine I suppose...but in all honesty, the true "edgy" Christians I know don't worry about those things at all.

They're not flashy. They're not loud. They often don't stand out in the crowd, in fact most of the time they're exactly the opposite.

They're quiet...they're listening...sometimes they're on their knees.

Those folks are the people whom I pray to be more like every day. They're more concerned with having a relationship with God...with worshipping Him than with anything else.

We might not see them as easily, but they see Christ.

There's nothing blocking your view...when you're really on the edge.

Naughty Nicks Unleashed!

It had to happen.

The line becomes blurred between a bad b-movie and reality.

Yes...I'm talking about: "When Santas Go Bad!"



What I find intriguing is the story says there were some 40 soused Santas...men dressed in bright red suits, with white beards, etc....and all but three got away?

Did they slip past the road blocks by blending in with other Santas?

Why were there 40 men dressed as Santa Claus together in one spot anyway?

Who spiked the eggnog?

Did the reindeer plot the getaway?

Inquiring minds demand answers!

Decompressing Christmas

It's not a pleasant job...reporting the body count. Some people say it's unnecessary and only deflates our national pride, but I am a reporter and the carnage...it's all around me.

I'm reporting from the front and my only agenda is to make sure you're not taken in by the hot air...the images you see may appear innocent...but they are mere mirages of the season of miracles. Do not put your trust in them...They are ineffective blowhards who are limp and risk leaving you deflated.

It's easy to be fooled - they start off sweet enough...cute inflatable Christmas decorations. Adorable air-filled Santas.


Perhaps a puffy polar bear...
The folks down the street from us have a snowman surrounded by Winnie The Pooh and Tigger...plus a gargantuan soldier-like snow creature.


But they only mesmerize for a moment...watch closely and you will see: these seemingly innocuous emblems of the season are temporary at best...these are in fact fallen idols.





As painful as this may be to hear - Santa and his posse are sadly sagging.


There's no way to avert our eyes from the reality...we're surrounded by deflated deities of crass Christmas commercialism.


They're everywhere! Our neighborhood is cluttered with - dare I say - the corpses of Claus!


Lee and I drove down our street and I swear we counted seven or eight Jolly Ol' Elves who now resembled the ill fated Wicked Witch of the West. I'm sure they too would have screamed,"Help me, I'm melting" but they lacked even the one last breath of a death rattle.


So sad. A silent passing...a whisper...a hiss...before being reduced to rubberized rubbish.


I fear I can only stand back...document the decay...


and wonder how long it will be before Christmas is sponsored by Cialis.

Jingle Pig

When do you know you have too much time on your hands? When you set up a website with 30 different versions of Jingle bells.

Sure you've heard dogs bark it...cats meow it...but this guy even has pigs grunting it.


Ho Ho Hog!

All I Want For Christmas I Already Have

Where did the week go? I could throw out the excuse of being overwhelmed by the Christmas season, but I haven't even been inside a mall and don't really have a lot of shopping to do.

In truth, life has been excessively peaceful lately, although that's likely to change. We're moving up Christmas at our house to the 21st for a variety of reasons including having all our kids here - plus one of their friends - and Amy not being in recovery from her medical procedure which will take place on the 22nd. Joey and his "friend" have landed dream gigs drawing caricatures on a cruise ship (I hope they bring enough silver, grey and blue markers) but will be "at sea" on Christmas day.

This afternoon Amy and I will go out for a little shopping and as bizarre and uncharacteristic as it sounds I'm actually looking forward to it....a feeling I'm sure I'll get over quickly.

With Ana and Lee out of class we aren't on the transportation roller coaster either but I think I'm going to have to chalk up my recent lag in writing to far more obvious reasons: I'm lazy and the fifth season of West Wing came out on DVD. Erin got us hooked blame her...hooked on West Wing that is, laziness I mastered long ago.

Amy and I have high expectations for a spirit filled Christmas with our blended extended family. John and Ana are in for some surprises which are going to bring them joy, not due to any extravagance on our parts...due to their Mom's love. Lee admits she spoils her kids - although don't get me wrong they don't act spoiled at all - but with what they've been through this year Lee's certainly not going to hear anything about frugality from us. Lee has taken a temporary job working as a sales clerk in a department store - somewhere I wouldn't go without a shotgun, flashlight and combat pay - for the holidays to earn money and she's working hard. Maintaining her composure amid frantic demanding Christmas shoppers speaks again to her astonishing ability to roll with the circumstances.

We've really fallen into a fairly comfortable routine...which I suppose also helps provide me the opportunity for sloth.

I'm not going to look for any further explanation or excuse. Quite the opposite actually.

Christmas is early this year.

Can We Talk?

There is a lovely young couple in our church with two young daughters. The oldest child, Anna is four or five years old now. Anna (note to RLP readers - yes, that Anna) speaks German and her younger sister is learning to speak German as well. They speak English too, but their Mom is fluent in German and their Dad speaks the language well too. Whenever their mother is speaking to them - in private - she makes a habit to speak German and the kids have simply picked up the language. What a wonderful gift these young parents are bestowing upon their kids.

This afternoon, Amy and Lee drove to Seguin...a town 30 or 40 miles away. I've mentioned before that Seguin is home to the world's largest pecan...well really a pecan shaped chunk of concrete, but I suppose the World's Largest Pecan title is not something a lot of communities are wrestling over...so Seguin has clear unchallenged bragging rights.



Despite the pecan attraction, Amy and Lee's mission focused on another task...fetching Lee's husband Jose. While Lee and her kids have been in San Antonio, Jose chose to find separate living quarters...in Seguin. Who knows...maybe the pecan was a factor.

Jose seems nice enough...very polite...although I haven't been able to have a conversation of any depth with him. Jose doesn't speak English.
Lee speaks Spanish so she translates almost every conversation for him.

For the record, it would be easy to assume Lee and her kids are African-American, but they are not. Jose is from El Salvador...Lee's roots are primarily Cuban. Their kids were all born and raised in New Orleans. The kids don't speak Spanish...not a lick. Let me reiterate that - Jose has three children (from this marriage) with whom he does not share a common language. He doesn't speak to them often and for any meaningful conversation they literally need a translator.

The kids have never known any other way. Their dad has always been someone with whom they really couldn't talk with directly. He hasn't ever learned to speak the language of his children nor to teach them his native tongue.

That barrier is not the lone reason for the estrangement Jose has with his children but it's certainly a contributing factor. A huge one as far as I'm concerned. I must admit Jose's odd relationship with his kids and their obvious apathy toward him has gnawed at my thoughts all day.

What it would be like to have children but be unable, or worse yet unwilling, to work to find a way to share yourself with them...share your wisdom...your worries...your love.

Jose and Lee have three children and his relationship is essentially the same with all three. It's virtually non-existent...and it's sad.

But as I said...I don't really know Jose.
Maybe he wishes it were different.

Maybe he wishes he had reached out to his kids from the moment they were put on this earth. Maybe he regrets that he didn't find simple ways to convey his thoughts. Simple ways - that hurtled all language barriers - to let them know he desired a deep and abiding relationship with them...above all things.

Fathers are so important.

Their lessons can shape our lives so profoundly.

Jose is a religious man...I don't see how he has overlooked this concept.

I do see one thing - how very grateful I am that Our Father has spent eternity reaching out to me. Teaching me the universal language of love.
I am so grateful Our Father took the time to speak my language.

Mine Eyes Have Seen...

I'm gaining new perspective on all sorts of stuff these days...some good...some not so good.

First off, I might as well get this out right away - Amy's medical tests came back. The call came Thursday during a very hectic time when I was trying to coordinate several family projects and Amy was feeling especially crappy. I was about to walk out the door with Lee and Ana but when I bopped into the bedroom to kiss Amy goodbye...she was on the phone...crying. The news wasn't good.

I'm not going to go into details - it's a female thing - it's about as personal as you can get. The situation is disconcerting but not life threatening. It will involve a small procedure but no hospitals...

It obviously wasn't the result for which we had hoped.

Still this is a clear diagnosis. The treatment options and expectations are also easily understandable. Considering we've spent a few years now dealing with medical vagaries, surgeries which accomplished little or nothing, and even stuff that seemingly worsened Amy's health...I can see this situation in a different light. At least we know what we're dealing with and we'll deal with it together. Thank you in advance for your prayers.


I'm also getting a new perspective of the world of the impoverished. I'm not talking folks in third world countries; I'm talking about people right here - in my house - and what they have to go through to simply get by. From bus schedules that are ludicrous or non-existent to petty bureaucrats who all give you different answers and then act indignant when you ask for clarity...It's a world I have not witnessed first hand before.

I was completely exasperated the other day when I picked up Lee from an agency that has given her and me three or four different answers to the same question and still no real help. Exasperated might be putting it mildly...I was furious and frustrated and I was only seeking information - Lee was the one who needs these bureaucrats to actually help her. As I fumed and blustered while driving home I looked over at Lee and she was completely calm. She looked at me and said, "Michael, it's like this everywhere when you're asking for government help." This wasn't a new perspective for her...she's lived it...and long ago stopped letting it frustrate her.

It wasn't a view of the world I really appreciated seeing...but I suppose sometimes you have to peer into the darkness to see the light.

This is another view of the world I have these days:



That's a Google map of where people who read my blog are located. It's fascinating to me...I apparently have no appeal to anyone in Wyoming.

I've decided not to let that get me down, especially since I noticed that Gann has nominated me again for his annual Christian blog awards.

I find it amazing that an obviously intelligent, well-read, good-looking, not easily bribed guy in the Philippines can find my writings interesting or amusing.

Actually I'm stunned he found my blog at all...no one in Idaho has yet...Kansas either...in fact it doesn't look like I've got any fans in Nebraska. Not one reader in North or South Dakota?

I need to work on my farm humor.

Later today I will get a view of something entirely different - actually someone.

Jose Gomez is coming to visit. I haven't written anything about Jose because I've never met him. He's Lee's husband. He's Michael, Ana, and John's father...and he's been a no show since day one of the Main-Gomez clan blending forces. I've resisted writing about Jose for a number of reasons but you can probably guess that the familial relationship is a bit strained. When he's here, I want to treat Mr. Gomez with the respect he deserves.

I'm going to have pray about that one though.

That's going to require perspective...a lot of perspective.

Something Nutty This Way Comes

Okay, I've let this stuff build up too long...time to get some of it out.

I mean it's almost Christmas and I haven't mentioned how folks in Austria celebrate this time of year.

They dress up like this:




And like this:



I'm not kidding. I don't really understand it all but the little devil looking guys accompany St. Nick through town and swat kids (and apparently anyone who doesn't get out of the way) with brooms on their rumps.

Anyone else missing Burl Ives about now?

It's sort of confusing but somehow St. Nicklaus is involved and kids get little treats at the end of the event.

Speaking of treats...did you see what the Pope got?



Yes, Pope Benedict was given a steering wheel the other day. The head of Ferrari gave it to him. It's even inscribed:"The steering wheel of the Formula 1 World Champion to His Holiness Benedict XVI, the driver of Christianity."

Where do you suppose the Pope puts stuff like that? I mean it presumably doesn't exactly fit the decor of the Vatican?

It's not like he needs it in the Popemobile?



Oh well...maybe he'll make it into a lamp or something.

In any case it allowed me to lighten things up around here a bit. If you want to lighten things up...and you have a high speed connection...click here.

The Pictures Promised

Just a quick note - as promised when I wrote the entry about the Gomez family's dog April - I augmented that post today with some pictures. This is the link.

No Sleep Tonight

Amy and I are currently in bed playing with our Christmas toys....

I'll wait while you get your mind out of the gutter.

That's better.

We splurged - a little - and scrimped a lot and now both own laptop computers. We purchased them early because the rebate deals were too good to pass up and we can justify them - probably even write them off our taxes - if we squint a little. They're not top of the line computers but they're functional. So now my wife and I are in bed...watching TV...and surfing the net. Things are really heating up too...

We have an electric blanket. Shame on you.

Egg Shells, Emotion & Exxageration

This is not going to be the lightest of posts I suspect...for that you can blame Hope. I'm only kidding - about the blaming Hope part - not about this likely being a bit more introspective than I normally care to be here. I write on the fly but I can tell which way I'm heading.

Hope left a comment recently saying essentially that she thinks some of my posts reflect an "emotional and physical weariness" especially since the Gomez clan has taken roost in our home - this is without a doubt a dead-on conclusion. She also said she suspected I was masking some of the burden of sacrifice and this too hit home.

It is not easy.

No one said it would be.

When people at my office complain to me about work I have been known to say, "That's why they call it work...if we all enjoyed it they'd call it sex."

They still hate work, but usually they laugh.

No one said it would be easy...and it has been hard, harder than we expected - at times.

At times it is hard to find our place, our purpose, and our peace. Quiet is often a luxury in our home and there is a temptation to retreat in ways that are unhealthy - mentally and physically. I have been guilty of both, but I suspect this hopefully momentary delving into the dark may be a step in the right direction.

Don't let the minor become monumental - that is my first rule of sanity and we have tight roped along it lately some times without success.

Amy and I have allowed little things to become big things on occasion. We have both exaggerated situations and made some decisions based on the emotion of the moment which we regret and which in truth made our lives only more difficult. Yet I know with a certainty that can not be challenged that we shall recover from those moments...for that's all that they were - "moments." I have been blessed to know both love and grace in portions so undeserved that I am even bold enough to expect more.

God is with us.

We are not alone. We have shared the minutiae of the balancing act of trying to co-exist with the Gomez family while trying to lift them to independence with our church leaders. We have help - spiritual, physical and financial but it is still hard.

Sprinkle in a dose of worry into the mix and you'll be better able to sample our daily diet.

We are still awaiting results of some of Amy's medical tests...we expect the hours spent keeping those fears and worries at bay to amount to a complete waste of our time...we have hope...but we've still given aid and comfort to the enemy...to fear.

So we tiptoe.

We tiptoe around emotional egg shells.

No, I don't share all the disappointments and emotional shifts here, nor do I share every wondrous moment and there are many.

I hope my reluctance to outline so many details is not because I want to put the best face on our situation - although I'm not big on reading people's whinings foremost my own. Rather I hope this is a season I am going through and the setbacks, the frustrations and exasperations are temporary. Perhaps it is an illusion but I'd at least like to believe what I write is less ethereal and the distant horizon of passing time will better reflect reality.

So I am perhaps quieter these days...but these days will pass.

There is indeed forfeiture involved in sacrifice, but there is also purpose.

It is to that purpose that Amy and I find ourselves clinging a lot these days and oftentimes we feel like we are barely hanging on...but I am still convinced one day we will suddenly stop tip toeing about the fragile and instead begin to frolic.

One day soon we will look down upon the eggshells…and we will dance.

Oh That's What That Button Does!

For a while there I was thinking - yes, I know that's a rarity - that I was not provoking any reaction at all...even with my as of late, limited postings.

Ya see there's this little button in Blogger which I noticed the other day that says, "Moderate comments." I thought that would be a dandy idea, assuming it would allow me to delete anything offensive (although I really don't get offensive comments - and no I'm not seeking any) or spam comments of which I get a few.

What I didn't know was that if you "Moderate Comments" you have to um...moderate comments...before they publish.

I don't have time to sort my laundry much less go through each comment and give "permission" for it to publish...so I turned that feature off this morning. Lo and Behold! Comments have burst forth!

Sorry I didn't respond previously, I wasn't ignoring you...I was worried you were ignoring me.

-----
Reminder to self: eggshells...I want to write about eggshells.

Up & Crawling

Apparently I bollixed my computer worse than I imagined, but Amy has manage to restore my critical stuff - like my ability to pay creditors and see how much money we don't have in the bank. It's going to take a while to get everything else going. I love this little blog editing software - wbloggar - which I have used for some time but now I've discovered images I embed with this program "disappear" when you bring them up via a permalink or through the archive. I detest writing in Blogger itself...and none of this matters to anyone but me.

I'm vowing to set aside time to write...but it's coming after my vow to set aside time for Amy and for the needs of the Gomez family. To tell you the honest truth the only reason I'm writing this is to see if the settings on this little editor are correct.

As an apology of sorts I'll turn you on to two sites I've found interesting lately.

The first is Woot.com which every Geek looking for a bargain should check out daily.

The other is One Red Paper Clip.

He's a blogger whose been trading up from one red paper clip on his way to a house...and he's well on his way.

That's all for now...time for vow #1.

April, Ingrid & Mountaintop Miracles

April was a dog.
Ingrid is an Internet user in Belgium.
Katrina was a hurricane.

April belonged to the Gomez family...Lee says she was really Michael and Ana's dog. She grew up with them but she grew old as Michael and Ana grew from children to young adults. Dogs do that...they grow old faster than we do.



When Lee and her children were literally washed out of their Midcity New Orleans house by Katrina the Hurricane, April and Kiki - the family's other dog - were left behind. Ana was certain they had drowned...in her journal she wrote, "...the dogs were in the back room...April and Kiki...they did not make it.

R.I.P.D."

Ana's words stung...the hopelessness...the helplessness.

Ingrid lives in Belgium, far away from New Orleans. To my knowledge she has never been to the United States, but she shared something with the Gomez clan...a sense of helplessness. She wanted to do something for the victims of Katrina so Ingrid has spent hours and hours of her time on the Internet looking at pictures of lost pets/found pets and then trying to locate their owners.

A couple of weeks ago I got an email from Ingrid. The first email I ever received from her...or from Belgium for that matter. Attached was a fuzzy picture and a politely worded message saying essentially she had run across a picture of a found dog with a rabies tag and the tag led the dog's current caretakers to believe the dog might have belonged to someone in New Orleans named Lee Gomez. Doing a search over the Internet she was led to my blog, she read the Gomez family story and said, "I know the family thinks both dogs drown but could this dog be April?"

I showed the picture to Lee.

April was alive!

The discovery brought great joy and some consternation to our household.

April was not only alive, she had somehow escaped Katrina and New Orleans and had made it to Arizona to a Humane Society shelter! With Ingrid's help, I put Lee in touch with the folks caring for April. Despite having heartworms and being nearly 12 years old, April was doing okay and a woman at the shelter had "fallen in love" with her. They were pampering her a plenty.

Reuniting April with her family was a dream, but we weren't sure it would be a reality. We have three dogs...April was old and sick. Getting her back here could be done but whether she'd survive the heartworm treatment she'd have to have was questionable. We were frankly unsure how to proceed, but in the interim the woman in Arizona was gladly caring for her and promised to continue doing so until we figured things out.

She was also taking April on great adventures. One adventure took her to the top of a mountain...another day she spent visiting with a tame cougar! April was exploring worlds she certainly never knew existed and she was in loving hands.




Yesterday April died.

She was old and sick and her heart gave out. No one expected her to live through Katrina, she had long been given up for dead, but somehow she survived...somehow she was taken in by gentle people filled with love, and somehow a woman in Belgium managed to find Lee Gomez via my blog to let her know.

It was sad and it was joyous.

Lee was devastated as was April's caretaker in Arizona. April was old...April was sick - it was a miracle she lived through Katrina at all - but that didn't lessen the sadness.

When Ana and I spoke about April she said, "It's like in the movies where someone knows they're dying but before they go they get to take this great trip...to see things they never thought they'd see...."


And she was right...it was like that...the trip of a lifetime...at the end of her lifetime.


From New Orleans, to Belgium, to Arizona, to blogs...this is where miracles are at play.

I believe in miracles.

Sometimes miracles have sad endings...but I think they're miracles still.