Round Circle

First Road Trip of 2012

2012-01-29T04:38:00.000-08:00

This is part of a weekly thread of Joy called Postcards From Paradise that eminates from Rebecca's recuerda mi corazon. Please feel free to go there and have a look and catch the feelings of other kinderd souls.

October 26th. That’s when all this heart stuff started. It was right about this time, early in the morning, that my heartbeat went racing out of control. It was at 167 when I put the blood pressure cuff on and saw it. Before that, I remember a trip up North earlier in October. That’s the last time I was on the road for anyplace farther than the VA Medical Center in Minneapolis, which is 38 miles from my home.

That changed on January 25th when I headed to Chicago, driving my car. So, over three months of being what I consider to be homebound, I finally got into the car and drove away. Hardly a cross country excursion, but I was doing what I love, seeing the world through the windshield. This view is my therapy, my yoga, my meditation.

I listened to the radio. I have SiriusXM installed in Goldie. Channel 26 plays the classic rock and for my benefit played the Allman Brothers “Ramblin’ Man”. I was born a ramblin’ man, there is no doubt about it!

Lord, I was born a ramblin' man

Trying to make a living and doing the best I can

When it's time for leaving, I hope you'll understand

That I was born a rambling man

I cried at the screaming guitar of Carlos Santana. I sang out loud at the top of my lungs with “Hey Jude” and just soaked it all in, dreaming of days gone by, when they played Mott the Hooples’ “All the Young Dudes”.

I left around 7:00 AM and this time of year, even though the daylight hours are on the increase, there’s still a darkness to the sky, especially when it’s damp and foggy, and that’s how it was last Wednesday. No camera, so no photos of this very familiar route to the city where I was born and raised.

As I drove East on US 10, the sun was brightening the sky from behind the foggy heavens. Then, I was able to look right at the sun. There was no glare as the outline of the perfect orb shone through the lifting haze. In a short while, the day had become a sunny one.

I stopped at Pammy K’s diner in Eleva, WI. Had the chopped beefsteak and eggs, then got underway and drove the Interstate for a hundred miles or so. I took two-lane highways to Mt. Horeb after that and paid a visit to the Duluth Trading Company’s retail store.

On from there into Illinois with dinner and a motel room in Harvard. I tell you, it felt so good to be on the road. I wish I could remember what I was writing in my head that day. The words flowed out of my brain as I wanted to tell the world I felt free once again.

The crows were evident everywhere along the road. I saw one eagle, two deer and two sheriffs patrol cars along with the show Ole Sol was putting on as it broke through the cloud cover to reveal itself on a very unseasonable Winter day in the Midwest. Temps shot as high as 46 degrees. When I got to Illinois, there was no snow to be seen.

The next morning, I headed into Chicago with a stop at a restaurant along US Highway 14 in Crystal Lake, IL. I did a little zigging and zagging to find the highway after I checked out what was happening on WBBM radio out of Chicago. They have traffic and weather on the 8’s. I pulled into the driveway at the funeral home and immediately spotted the familiar faces of my brother and brother-in-law in the parking lot.

The trip home was equally as enjoyable for the first half. The second half it was dark and all I could see were the images in my head while listening to more old but great music. The Reggae channel had me bobbin’ and weavin’. I was Irie mon.

I don’t know what many of you think about road trips. As you can see, it is important to my life. For a while, I felt like I’d never be able to take off, at least not take off alone, from home. I’ve broken the ice and plan a full schedule of travel starting in mid March when I can saddle up and get to Albuquerque to get my motorcycle out of Winter storage.

In the meantime, I refreshed my soul by simply being on the move. Practicing what I preach, I realize there is nothing I can do about what has happened, and I sure don’t know what the future will bring, so living one day at a time means be prepared, but perish the thought of sitting in a living room chair, watching TV and waiting to die for the rest of my life. I want to live, not just be alive, as long as The Creator allows. And I continue to be thankful for friends and family. I pray for the Veterans, the Elders, the Sick, the Addicted and the Children.

Mitakwe Oyasin

Peace

Rest In Peace

2012-01-27T06:15:00.000-08:00

Haiku My Heart
January 27, 2012

For more Haiku My Heart, visit Rebecca's recuerda mi corazon. Also, remember rebecca in your prayers as she needs them.

Strong sister, good Mom

Took care of Grandma, Grandpa

Left good memories

L to R, Grandma Spada, my Mom and Auntie Angie with my sister and brother around 1945

The funeral was a plain simple affair. Meet at the funeral home, listen to the priest say a few words and read a couple of scriptures, drive in funeral procession to the chapel at the cemetery where all the relatives are buried, proceed to the nearby restaurant to share a meal together and leave to head for home. I drove 400 miles down to Chicago to spend three hours with my family and honor the life of my Auntie Ange.

I wonder why these things are done in the same way and have been in our family as long as I can remember. Not sure what I’d do differently, but there seems to be an element gone astray at what I call, a funeral home funeral.

When my daughter was lost to this world in a terrible automobile accident, we knew we had some responsibility to take care of the body. We chose to have her remains cremated. The people at the funeral home wanted to sell us a brass urn to hold the ashes. We were fine with a cardboard box. In fact, we didn’t want the ashes. They were reverted back to the ground to become part of the soil.

What we wanted to save was her spirit. We wanted to hold this with us in our hearts forever and we have done so. Yet there are people that need these funeral home funerals to say goodbye and to close the book, so to speak, on the life of a human being they knew when that person walked among them.

With this in mind, and it is in my mind every time I feel the need to attend a funeral, I was present when they laid my Aunt to rest yesterday. I honored her life and the part in my life she played. When I was a youngster growing up, we’d visit her home often because Grandma and Grandpa Spada lived with her and her family and it was the custom in my father’s household to visit his parents every Sunday afternoon.

As we cousins grew up and moved away to raise our own families, I didn’t see my Aunt very often, but when I did, she was the same steady voice and demeanor. She always told me how much I looked like my father, who was her brother, and told me she loved me. She grabbed me by the cheeks and held on to me like I was her own. I guess I was of her own.

There was sadness and tears, but there was a lightheartedness to seeing family and reuniting around her. Everyone knew she was in a hurry to join her husband, my Uncle Willis, who passed last April. Auntie Ange was having health problems of her own and they were getting progressively worse. When they told her she had some kind of cancer on top of the rest of the age related ailments, she let herself return to her maker.

It was a whirlwind of a trip as I haven’t driven anywhere in almost three months and I was chompin’ at the bit to get on the road. More about that soon. For now, I acknowledge the loss of my Aunt from this world and will miss her very much.

Peace

Sunday Morning Musings

2012-01-22T03:33:00.000-08:00

It’s early on a Sunday morning. I love the quiet here in the house. This weekend has been a frenzy of activity with out-of-town guests and birthday parties for my youngest Grand daughter who turned five years old on Friday. Last night, the din was so loud. There were eight kids here along with seven adults and two dogs that both weigh at least eighty pounds. You can just imagine swinging a three foot stick at a pin'ata in the midst of all this chaos. I tell you, this big house is too small!

After months of unseasonable weather that had purveyors of Winter sports like snowmobiling, skiing, ice skating, ice fishing, snow shoeing and dog sledding reeling at the economic impact of another Winter without a snow base to ply their activities, Winter is here with a vengeance with extreme cold and now snow in the forecast, albeit small amounts, but some expected every day for the next week and beyond.

Despite the cold and snowy weather, my brother flew into Chicago last week from Phoenix to meet up with my sister, then, they drove up together for a visit to Spadoville. They’ll be here through Sunday and head back Monday morning. So, I’m enjoying some quiet time now before I get the pans rattlin’ and make breakfast/brunch for the masses.

Getting off the good-fer-ya diet today. I’m making biscuits ‘n gravy, southern style, from scratch. I learned the recipe many years ago from a neighbor I had that was from Valdosta, Georgia. This is the real thing folks. Seasoned and salted fat over buttery biscuits with eggs, hash browns and plenty of that great tasting top quality freshly roasted Smokey Double Dark coffee we get from my close friend Steve at the J & S Bean Factory Coffee Shop.

A visit after that to the youngest Spado daughter’s home for a view of some completed remodeling projects before football and a nap between touchdowns. Pretty traditional Sunday afternoon. What I haven’t forgotten is how fortunate I am to be alive to witness and be a part of it. In all the turmoil and fun with the pin’ata last night, I missed the call from my cousin informing us that my aunt had passed away yesterday after a long bout with several illness’ and cancer.

That voicemail message news brought a pall of sadness down on my brother, sister and me. Auntie Angie was my dad’s only sister, our only auntie on my dad’s side of the family. We will miss her terribly. I’ll be pretty much following my brother and sister back to Chicago for the funeral. I sure send peace and prayers to the rest of my cousins and the families that are mourning.

I realize I have been pretty lame in blogging and visiting others this past week or so. Just haven’t been in the usual routine. Still many VA appointments and cardiac rehab three days per week. I’ve also been nursing some kind of stomach bug that has had me sitting on the porcelain throne more time than I sit in the car on a long cross country journey.

Never thought my blog would come to the point of being a what-I-did-today kind of place, but today it is, and that’s what I have to say. I owe so many e-mails, letters and phone calls to people that I’m feeling overwhelmed. Please be patient and I’ll make sure you know you’re loved, thought of and prayed for.

In the meantime, take care and be well.

Much Peace

Spadoville Snowshoe Art

2012-01-14T04:34:00.000-08:00

This past period of time has been crazy. I actually started this paragraph by using the words “this past year”, but it has truly been a period of time that has transcended calendar dates that has been crazy.

I can’t dwell on the past. That is finished. It’s behind me. I sure don’t know the future, so there’s no sense whatsoever to worry about what I think is gonna happen. After spending all that time in the hospitals and all the ambulance rides, I find myself slowed down quite a bit and trying to get through days of sitting around at a time when I’m usually down in the American Southwest being able to get outside in weather more conducive to being outside.

Remember that balmy unseasonable weather I talked about last week? It’s over. It’s Winter. I’m inside these days. The cold is hard on my lungs and I really have to be careful not to risk a fall on the ice as I am told the blood thinners I am taking could make for some rather tough complications should I slip and bang my head.

So, I got motivated and completed some promised artwork recently. I got so inspired that I set out to make snowshoes again this year after I took a couple of years off from making any. I had the good fortune of a friend that stopped by my house, saw the ones I made for my Grandchildren and then proceeded to call me up a few days later and asked if I would make him a pair.

I started them, and nearly got them finished before the roof came crashing down and all this heart stuff brought my entire life to a grinding halt.

With what seems to me to be a new lease on life, I have resumed the project and have finished this pair of snowshoes. I have informed the customer that I would deliver this particular pair of snowshoes to him at an event I plan on attending next Wednesday January 18th.

A section of the snowshoes as they hang up to allow the varnish to dry

As things would be, my friend knew of my struggles and never worried about the snowshoes being finished at any particular time. Also, since this has been a very strange year weather wise all over the country it seems, the lack of snow in our region mandated that anyone that already has a pair of snowshoes hasn’t taken them from the garage and even dusted them off let alone use them!

Temperatures in the 40’s and 50’s, what little snow we’ve had has fallen and melted thrice. Last week, the forecast was more sunshine and warmer then normal temperatures for at least another week. And now, this week, we got a little snow, but the temperatures are a lot colder.

I know my good friend Mel who pens Mel’s Dream will appreciate the orange t-shirt I’m wearing in the photos of me doing some artwork with the wood burning tool on the toes and tails of the snowshoes. She’s a halloween fanatic and sees punkins every time she sees orange. The kitchen table does double and sometimes triple duty as it is the "studio" for many art projects, school projects, board games, conversations and eating, sometimes all at the same time!

Working on the tail feather image with the wood burning tool

The brightness and gaiety of the table cloth, also laced with a lot of orange, is the handiwork of Stephanie over at Mango Studio. This is heavy duty oilcloth and makes for an easy to clean surface on that old wooden table where we at Spadoville take our meals. She is a fabulous artist well above and beyond the aprons, and things she makes with the oilcloth.

The Hawk's talon print on the toepiece

The artwork was drawn with on the wooden toes and tails of this particular pair of snowshoes. I have several tips to make a wide variety of lines with the wood burner. My friend has the Hawk as his totem. I’ve added the claw talons of the Hawk to the toe. The Tail feather of the Red Tailed Hawk has donned the tail.

Red Tailed Hawk feather at the tail before the varnish is applied

Outlined in pencil, the feather image was wood burned for a bold line drawing. This is filled in with stain that pretty closely matches the coloration of what you see when the Red Tail splashes by in flight. Glad I paid attention to my teacher in Kindergarten and stayed in the lines. Amazing what you remember after 60 years.

Four coats of high quality exterior varnish is applied and when dry, they are ready to use. Hopefully, for my friend and the general economy of the Northland, snow will have fallen in amounts ample enough to need the flotation of a snowshoe to traverse cross country. I think he’ll have to travel to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula to snowshoe this year, at least so far.

Hanging in the laundry room to dry. Nic e of the rest of the family to share their space for the messy part of this project. It's been too cold to do this in the garage.

I have more frames to make more snowshoes, various sizes, too. But I think I’ll just leave them and if the mood strikes, lace up a pair or two. I don’t feel the need to make more for this season unless someone were to order a pair.

As far as other artwork, well, nothing lately. The few pieces I did have complete have been sent on their way. I do have many Dream Catcher projects planned and the materials gathered to start them. Some very rare designs too. This may happen at any time.

The repeated coats of varnish brings out the color and boldness of the wood burning

In the meantime, if anyone were to be interested in a pair or two of custom made one-of-a-kind heirloom snowshoes or a Dream Catcher, Gourd Rattle, Hand Drum, Walking Stick, Talking Stick or Dance Stick, let me know. E-mail is best.

Peace

Haiku My Heart

2012-01-13T06:59:00.000-08:00

A full tilt boogie

Dancin' my way to the stars

One day at a time

See more at recuerda mi corazon

What's On My Mind These Days

2012-01-11T02:06:00.000-08:00

That's all.

Peace

How's the Weather?

2012-01-09T06:05:00.000-08:00

The overnight low didn't get below 36 degrees last night. It's suppose to be near 45 today. That happens quite often in Winter here, but this year it seems to be happening every day! There is virtually no snow on the ground and not much in the forecast for snow or cold temps.

I'm not complaining. I'll take whatever happens and be happy with it. But this is just strange.

So, how's the weather where you live?

Peace

Winter Solstice On the Horizon

2011-12-16T04:59:00.000-08:00

Haiku My Heart
December 16, 2011

Haiku My Heart is the creation of my friend Rebecca who pens the recuerda mi corazon blog. Stop over there to see more haiku on Fridays and find out how to participate.

A cold Winter sun peeks through the clouds

Solstice Approaches

Light up the night with fire

Spend time with spirits

I know, it’s almost a week away, but I feel it and I’m getting ready. Next Thursday, December 22nd at 5:30 AM universal time is the Winter Solstice. In the hemisphere where I live, it is the day of the least amount of daylight. After that date, the daylight portion of time starts getting longer. It’s a harbinger of Spring.

I mentioned to my Grandson just yesterday that since he will not be required to attend school on Friday the 23rd, that we certainly can have a fire and tend it all night. We’ve done this before.

I would like to light a fire every full moon, or at least for every Solstice and Equinox. I don’t always get to it. But we did do the Winter Solstice fire a few years ago. We were living at the Cabinette on the Great Lake Superior. The fire pit was right out our front window. I banked the fire and we went inside to watch it as even though it gave off tremendous heat, the cold Winter wind off the lake drove through our bones and forced us into our shelter.

DJ fell asleep on the sofa. I did too. I woke up in the early dawn of light and stoked the still glowing embers back to life, and when DJ woke up, with a little nudging from me, he saw it was morning and that the fire had lasted all night.

We recognized the idea that nature rules the world. We understood how small and insignificant we are in the large scheme of things. We also shared pride that we were the only ones to pay tribute to the universe all night by lighting the way for spirit guides and helpers to find their way in those long hours of darkness.

Come, sit by the fire with us. I’ll feel fortunate to be able to attempt this at least one more time and I can think of no one that I would rather share this experience with than my friends that sent their thoughts and prayers in my direction recently.

Peace

Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe Day 12

2011-12-12T04:27:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day
December 12, 2011

Today is December 12, 2011. This is the day of celebration for Our Lady of Guadalupe and the last day of our exercise, A Virgin a Day. Some have called it Mornings with Mary. In fact, many monikers have been thrust upon this idea of posting and writing about The Blessed Virgin Mary every day since the start of December so we could culminate today, on the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Patroness to the Americas.

One of the beautiful works located inside the main chapel at the Shrine.

More entries can be seen by following this link to Rebecca’s blog, recuerda mi corazon. I wish to say a resounding Thank You to Rebecca for hosting this project. It has been fun, entertaining, educational and has allowed new friendships and connections to flourish here in Bloglandia. It has promoted Peace and understanding, acceptance and turned us on to learning about people in lands all around the globe.

The church

The copper dome of the church lit up

Not far from my home in Northwestern Wisconsin along the Mississippi River sits the city of LaCrosse. And not far from LaCrosse on US Highway 61 sits a shrine built to honor and present Our Lady of Guadalupe to the people.

Beautiful examples of the stained glass windows in the votive chapel

There are many such shrines throughout the USA and the world to honor the religious icons. This one is no exception. I don’t so much seek these places out to visit them, but when I happen to be on that path and I discover them, I tend to stop and have a look.

The votive chapel

Candles, to light as a devotional, in the votive chapel, high on a hill on the grounds

I have been to a Sihk Temple. I have been to a Baptist church service in the deep South. I have been to a Catholic Monastery. I have been to a Buddhist Peace Pagoda. I have been on Native American Sacred Grounds. I’ve been to a pot farm and I even have been to a strip club. You may not see a connection, but the idea is that I am not hesitant to stop and learn about parts of the vast and varied cultures of our world.

Stock photo of the gift shop located in the main building

This visit to the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe is best told in pictures. I didn't get back to photograph all that I wanted to, but the link in this paragraph will explain in some detail all the activities that are offered there to pilgrims and visitors alike. I have posted the photos with captions and leave you to the beauty of the artwork.

One of the many outdoor statues of Our Lady

The idea at work here is that Our Lady, The Blessed Virgin Mother,
appeared in the form of a young woman, Guadalupe, and visited this man, Juan Diego, in 1531 AD, somewhere in the desert near the hill named Tepeyac in Mexico, and showed herself to him with a message for the people.

The bottom line of the message brought down from Tepeyac Hill by Juan Diego, who was later named a Saint by the Catholics, is that we need to live with each other in Peace.

Mary's Odds and Ends Day 11

2011-12-11T03:14:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day

December 11, 2011

Day 11 of the twelve days of A Virgin a Day has been a beautiful experience featuring The Blessed Virgin Mary in stories, art and photos. It was created and hosted by my friend Rebecca. You can see more by visiting her blog, recuerda mi corazon.

Tomorrow marks the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Traditionally, on these days, parishioners attend mass and prepare a large and special meal. In the case of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, the parish where I grew up, the predominately Italian congregation held a celebration on the streets surrounding the church, complete with a carnival, fund raising booths ran by all of the social organizations within the church, ethnic Italian food booths and a special mass schedule.

Through participationn in this exercise over the past eleven days, I have seen that there is certainly no shortage of material in many forms that features Our Lady. Some folks have mentioned the music. Most famous is probably the Beatles "Lady Madonna" or the title song from the album "Let It Be". I have many albums from many genres and remembered this Reggae tune by Ras Michael. The name of the song is "Marriage in Canaan". If you click on the title of this post, it may play for you. If that doesn't work, there is a YouTube, but it is 8 minutes long so I decided not to load it. Look it up and listen to the rub-a-dub about Jesus and his Mother in a completely honoring way.

The beautifully ornate Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Statue

I also came across a couple of photos from the 1950’s of the procession that takes place through the neighborhood streets of Melrose Park, a suburb of Chicago, where a very large statue of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel is carried through the hot asphalt streets by dedicated parishioners. Melrose Park was also home to The Sacred Heart Seminary which hosted a shrine. I found an old photo of people in prayer at that site, and it was labeled Our Lady of Fatima.

Our Lady of Mt. Carmel being carried through the streets during the procession

The Fatima Shrine at Sacred Heart Seminary, Melrose Park, IL

While searching through the really old family photos that I have, I came across two that I thought were very appropriate to honor my mother, womanhood, motherhood and peace. The first is my mom holding my brother Frank in her arms with my sister Marie standing at her feet with her teddy bear. My brother was born in 1943, so this photo has to be from around that time.

My mother with my brother and sister, circa 1943

This second photo, is my Grandmother, Mary Masi Spada with my mom and her Grandchildren. Must be from around the same era. The Mary influence is evident in their names and the fact that both these women, along with my sister when she grew up, all raised families that held together through the years. I believe it is photographs like these that exemplify what the Virgin Mary is to our lives.

My Paternal Grandmother with my mom, also circa 1943

In my own collection, bits and pieces of Our Lady of Guadalupe began to come into our home. As I explained in a previous post, Day 5 I believe, there is plenty of kitsch out there. I have my share with this Guadalupe pot holder and a beautiful, but very simply made wooden cross that came from Italy. I’m still searching diligently for that gear shift knob.,

Guadalupe hot pad

Italian made Guadalupe wooden cross

While browsing the shops and galleries during last years visit to Prescott, AZ, I came across this fantastic rendering of Mary as a Los Dias Icon. I would be remiss had I not included it somewhere in this series honoring Mary.

Besides the objects and gadgets, I purchased this beautiful Mary work of art from Daisy Coba at the annual auction of art that benefits the Oaxaca Street Children, another demonstration of the giving spirit spearheaded by our own Rebecca. Check out the link to the auction and stay informed. There are always many very talented artists donating pieces to raise money for this worthy cause.

Daisy Coba's Mary

So, today is a show-and-tell of a few of the objects you would see in my home. Tomorrow, we will visit the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe near LaCrosse, Wisconsin, not too awfully far from my home, and celebrate this Patroness of the Americas in words and photos. I believe we’ll have a special dinner here from the Spadoville kitchen as well. Feel free to stop in. We will eat around 6 PM.

Peace

Virgin in My Sister's Back Yard Day 10

2011-12-10T06:02:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day

December 10, 2011

A Virgin a Day has been going on since December first. It will end on the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe which is Monday, December twelfth. To see more submissions, please visit Rebecca's recuerda mi corazon blog. You wll be delighted.

I did an article on my blog about my sister’s back yard not that long ago. In fact, I wrote it for Haiku My Heart, another of Rebecca's wonderful creations. I’ll give you a link to that article and just post pictures of Mary on this A Virgin a Day post today.

We were all brought up Catholic and under my mother’s influence. There was no way we could ever escape the idea that Mary was a powerful force in our lives. And although I don’t have anything to do with organized religion of any kind, as you’ve seen throughout this twelve days of Virgins and the twelve days of last year, Mary is in my life in many different ways.

So it is with my sister and her home and yard. I took these photos while visiting her last Summer. We were siting around talking. I had my camera in my shirt pocket and just walked over to the lilac bush and started snapping off shots. The photos above are from that session.
These two phots below are from inside the spare bedroom where my sister has set up a small altar on an old breakfront cabinet. These two are just a small sample from the collection of The Blessed Virgin my mother kept throughout her life.

Just two days left after today for A Virgin a Day. Hope you enjoyed my contribution for Day 10.

Peace

Rosa Mystica Day 9

2011-12-09T06:09:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day, Haiku My Heart

December 9, 2011

I am sharing A Virgin a Day with Haiku My Heart. Both of these memes were created by my friend

Rebecca who pens the recuerda mi corazon blog. From December 1st through December 12th, we celebrate Mary with our images, thoughts and stories. December 12th is the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe. It has been a great exercise in drawing people together and sharing, making conections and new friends. Please have a look by clicking on the highlighted link in this paragraph.

Mary in glory

Sunlight makes her image glow

Great Peace and beauty

San Luis, Colorado is a small quaint town on Colorado highway 159, a little West of Walsenburg, which is located along I-25 South of Denver, and a little South of US Highway 160. It’s on the road that will eventually pass through Taos if you keep on heading South into New Mexico.

We were passing through and saw this monstrous building on a hill. It had a pair of turrets and was laced with gold. Our conversation had Mrs. Spadoman and I wondering what it was. Certainly some sort of religious palace. The design had us convinced it was not anything Catholic.

Stations of the Cross Shrine San Luis, CO

Then, as we got closer to the town and saw the informational signs, it turns out to be the epitome of Catholic as it was the Shrine of the Stations of the Cross. Had we noticed the crosses atop the towers, we would have had no doubt. We just missed seeing this small detail.

This monument was high on a hill with no visible road to get to it. We spotted a small sign and a walking path. If you wanted to visit this place, it was a hike up a hill at nearly 8000 feet above sea level.

I was already exhibiting signs of breath shortness and fatigue so I passed on this one. I had no idea that these were the signs that signaled the prelude to my recent heart attack and heart related problems. We did opt to visit the beautiful church in town that sat directly across the road from the Cafe Rosa Mystica Coffee House.

The name of the church was unusual as I have never heard one quite like this before. Most Precious Blood Catholic Church. There was parking close by and we wandered over and found the doors unlocked and the church ready for visitors.

A small church as they go. After all, it was a small town. But very beautiful with a large carved wooden altar that seemed to extend across the entire width of the building. This altar was completely covered with statues with Jesus on the cross as a centerpiece.

The walls were laden with stained glass images of The Blessed Virgin Mary and included Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, St. Rose of Lima and St. Therese, the Little Flower.

I’ve included photographs of the stained glass and also a few of the altar. The outside of the church had a traditional profile, and although this place is located in the Southwestern United States and the name of the town was in Spanish, the design seemed to look more Midwestern than the Mexican adobe style.

We then had to stop in for a cup of coffee. Mrs. S is addicted you know. Gotta have her caffeine fix. Not that she didn’t already have a few jolts of high test java that we made at the motel when we left Taos.

The Rosa Mystica was a unique place. The owner/operator was just pulling turnovers out of an oven, and the aroma mixed with the cinnamon rolls that were cooling on the counter under our noses.

We ordered coffee and wandered around the shop as she had displays and gift items here and there for sale. This is the place where we saw the Our Lady of Guadalupe door hanging for the first time. We knew we had to have one when we realized they existed.

The Rosa Mystica also had a small table set with a statue of Our Lady and candles to light. This was a mainstay in the church where both of us grew up. It was common to my mother’s vernacular to say, “I’ll light a candle for (so-and-so).” to someone that told you about a sick family member or a family that needed prayers.

These are not regularly in churches any longer that I’ve noticed. With my mother in mind, I asked the proprietor about lighting a candle and she told me to go ahead and help myself. I asked about paying for it, as we always made a donation at church in the old days, but she said, “No, there’s no charge.”

We ended up buying half the stock of cinnamon rolls and turnovers, a chore which we would have done anyway, just based on how good they looked and smelled.

That’s our visit to San Luis, Colorado. If you make the trip, let me know. And enjoy one of those turnovers, they wereb divine.

Peace

Minnesota Mary Day 8

2011-12-08T04:07:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day

December 8, 2011

Today is December 8th. The Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe is December 12th. From the first to the twelfth we are posting in a series entitled A Virgin a Day. Visit the link to Rebecca’s recuerda mi corazon blog to see more submissions. This exercise is not especially religious, but it is certainly very fascinating with the wide variety of thoughts, ideas and creations that have been shown so far.

It wasn’t that long ago it was Summer, and as I sit here listening to the furnace do its work and cycle through its paces on a cold December morning, I’m recalling an escapade through the Mississippi River valley as it winds through the bluffs that separate Wisconsin from Minnesota.

From the Northern reaches, where the mighty river flows out of Wisconsin at the foot of Lake St. Croix and becomes the border of states from there to the Gulf of Mexico, a paradise begins. A paradise for sightseers, hikers, bikers and tourists. Art galleries, quaint diners, coffee shops, the rocky and forested bluffs and the River, complete with Lake Pepin, a large expanse of water teeming with waterfowl and barges carrying commerce North to South.

It was through this part of the world a motorcycle ride with friends ensued that rendezvoused at Viroqua, WI. Just South of LaCrosse, not too awfully far from the Our Lady of Guadalupe Shrine. In Viroqua, the predetermined place to meet was an eating establishment named The Driftless Cafe. The entire area is known as Driftless Wisconsin.

The name comes from the fact that the region from the Eastern Dakotas all the way to the Great Lakes and as far South as Central Illinois was covered with glaciers millions of years ago. When the glaciers receded and melted away to create the 10,000 lakes Minnesota is known for as its license plate moniker, it left rocks and debris and dotted the landscape with water. Lakes teeming with fish, streams still flowing to the Mississippi. This debris field was called glacial drift by the scientists.

The area around Viroqua was unscathed from the huge behemoth ice packs and therefore, the topography is “driftless”. Some resourceful people turned the natural event phenomena into a regional name. The Driftless Cafe is one such place.

The food is great. Organic offerings, for the vegan and the carnivore and all in between. Eclectic in its music and wine selection and striking as far as the featured artists of the area that showcase their works on the walls.

This is where I first saw and discovered the art of Mary Solberg. She is from Winona, MN, not far North on the Mississippi River. I can’t help but stare at her artwork. Many of her pieces have sort of a sacred theme, or at least seem so with the round golden aura behind their heads. Some purists may think of it as blasphemous as the idea of the Virgin Mother is holding a martini. I like to wonder if it is shaken and not stirred and find it no more or less mysterious as Our Lady surfing or depicted as a Los Dias skeleton.

This is where I found this artist and her work and I present it today as another variation of the image of Mary with the photos from her website.

This short two minute YouTube video shows her at work and gives more insight into her thoughts and ideas. The artist explains the religious nature of some of her work.

Out of the ordinary? For sure. I even wonder if this kind of treatment stands up to Folk Art Guadalupes. It can’t be as preposterous as the bathtub aura that surrounds Mary in the barn yards of the Midwest, or maybe it does. Personally, I find Mary Solberg’s art, for the sake of art, fantastic, stunning and strikingly beautiful. I enjoyed dining amidst her creations at the Driftless Cafe. So much so, that in the Fall, Mrs. Spadoman and I traveled back there to try the vittles for a second time and see her work again.

Peace

Corn Mother

2011-12-07T04:57:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day
December 10, 2010

Day 7

This is a repost from 2010. I originally posted this on a Friday and included some haiku for Haiku My Heart. There is a story here that I share along with this Virgin Mary.

Our Lady of Guadalupe

A Virgin a Day is the title of this Meme Project. It is a tribute to Our Lady of Guadalupe. To participate, see Rebecca’s recuerdo mi corazon blog. There, you will get more definition and instructions as well as see other’s submissions.

I have always had a fascination with the image and statues I’ve seen of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I never knew why I liked this art form so much, but after my Mother went on her final journey home last February, I realized it was her influence and her faith that has kept me interested, and somewhat knowledgeable, about Our Lady. I can't tell you when I realized how much I appreciate the art side of it.

If you care to, you may look at this as religious, or you may see it as art for the sake of art. I make no assertions about anything to anyone as far as my own faith or religion with these posts. I simply dedicate my involvement with this Virgin Business to my Loving Mother, Carmelina Rosa Caruso Spado. Just to be talking about the Blessed Virgin Mary would make her proud of me.

Cristina Perez' Corn Mother

I’ve mentioned before, mostly on the blog comments of the fabulous artists sites that I am so fortunate to have been introduced to, that I have a hard time understanding the creative process, I don’t do poetry very well and I admire all that can deliver such beauty in photos, paintings, objects and words.

That being said, the fact that I don’t get out much to art shows or openings might be one of the reasons why my grasp of art may be a bit lacking. But I know what I like. I just can’t tell you why I like it, or dislike it, if that’s the case.

This particular subject, Our Lady of Guadalupe, I like. And that assessment is “in general.” I have only learned recently that these types of paintings and color treatments that I find when visiting the Southwestern USA, where Guadalupe is so prominent, is considered Folk Art, or at least a form of Folk Art.

Back pedal to around 2004. I was living in St. Paul in those days and hanging out at the J&S Bean Factory Coffee House. My good friend, Steve, owns the place. I’d show up there just about every morning. Most of the time, the usual characters came in, conversations ensued, and time was spent whiling away many hours each morning.

A positive about this daily event was that I got to meet a lot of people. I’d be talking to someone and someone else would walk in and the person I was talking to knew this other person and I was introduced and low and behold we had something or someone in common. Next thing you know, we’re all talking and making connections and it wasn’t very unusual that I didn’t know someone else, someone that wasn’t seated at the table, that the person I was just introduced to, knew as well. If not a person, then a place, or a job I’ve held, as I am well traveled from years of road trips throughout the USA and have held my share of jobs.

In this one case, I met a guy named Tom. Tom, in his own right, is a very unique character and is an artist. His medium is bronze casting and he is from the very old school of seeking benefactors, or what he calls in the vernacular, patrons of the arts. Patrons that would give him money to research, plan and produce an exquisite art piece that they could have for their own collection.

Disclaimer: So far, this story has nothing what-so-ever to do with The Blessed Virgin Mary. It’s just how I came about going to the art show that produced the Corn Mother print that will.

In any event, Tom and I became friends quickly and we met many mornings and talked about everything in particular and nothing in general, or is that the other way around, I never could get that right either.

Tom, being an artist, knew many other artists. He told me about an art show coming up in an old Northeast Minneapolis building that had been turned into artists lofts called The California Building.

A photo of Tom's most famous work, Moonbell. It sits in the entry of the Minneapolis Federal Reserve Building

Incidentally, one of the connections Tom and I made in the weeks leading up to the announcement about the upcoming art show was the fact that someone I worked with years before, had a loft there. A fellow named Aldo Moroni. Aldo and I worked in the motion picture industry together, that’s where I met him. He has a studio in the California Building and if I went to this particular art event that Tom was inviting me to, I’d get to see Aldo and his then not yet famous Babylon Project, which, is quite interesting as well as very beautiful.

Back to my story. While attending this art event, I wandered through the floors of lofts and stopped here and there to look at what might be offered. In a small uncluttered room were a few paintings and prints. One of these was the one I am presenting here as my offering for A Virgin a Day.

When I saw it, I immediately said, “Corn Mother”. The artist, a woman named Cristina Perez, heard me and told me, “Yes, the name of this print is The Corn Mother.”

I had to have it. I liked it. The colors, the image. I’d seen that image before. I knew it was Our lady. She resembled Our lady of Guadalupe, but with a corn cob as an aura. Back in those days I had already started my once and twice yearly treks to New Mexico and was falling in love with the Folk Art of this particular image.

I made a purchase of art, while attending an art show in a building where artists plied their trade. That had to be the start of it. Now, many years later, I will go to Cristina’s site and write to her and tell her how I am posting this story about her art piece and that since I looked up her name and found the modern day site for her work, I see she is quite talented and there are other pieces I might be interested in purchasing. I see she has a great portfolio of Los Dios de Los Muertos, or Days of the Dead folk art, with my Corn Mother amongst the offerings! I will be paying her site a few visits.

Incidently, while perusing Cristina’s website, I came across this fabulous painting entitled Mayan Mother from her collection. Just seems fitting as every Mother emulates the Blessed Virgin Mother, and this Mayan Mother is no exception.

Mayan Mother

Brown Mayan Mother

Not different from our own

Reflecting Mary

(I thought I'd add haiku for this print since today is Friday and Rebecca's Haiku My Heart Friday, another great Meme idea, is usually presented today)

So, that’s my story. That’s my submission for Day 10. The Corn Mother print and how it came into being in my life. Our Lady working in mysterious ways? Maybe so. I’m making a new connection with an artist I met only once, and I’m inspired to call Tom Attridge and see how he’s doing. Maybe I’ll pay him a visit and we’ll sit around his kitchen nook and hold the guitar a little.

Authors Note: I haven't seen Tom but once in the past year. I have been to Christina's site, but last time I checked, it was in flux. I will search for her and try to get a hold of more of her fine work. I also am including an E-mail she sent me last year when I asked for her permission to use her Corn Mother image:

Hi Joe,
What a nice surprise to wake up to yesterday! I am glad you enjoyed that image, and I am glad you were able to use it to inspire your own art too.
I have no problem with you using the image, thank you for the mention and website link!
I love your Haiku. What a great project too.

I having been working on a story and more art related to Guadalupe and you have inspired me to keep going.
Isn't it great how things work that way?

Cheers,

Cristina

Thank you for visiting Round Circle

Peace

Tres Virgen

2011-12-06T04:59:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day

December 6, 2011

A Virgin a Day is a daily recognition of The Blessed Virgin Mary. It celebrates the first 12 days of December as the month leads us to the Feast Day of the Patroness of the Americas, Our Lady of Guadalupe, whose Feast day is celebrated on December 12th. You can see more of her image at Rebecca’s recuerda mi corazon blog. Click on any of the images in this post to enlarge and see detail.

This first print was found at the annual Mexican Independence Day Fiesta in the small town of Mesilla, New Mexico, near Las Cruces. I travel there often when I visit the land of enchantment. I love the town square and the Basilica of St. Albino. During the celebration, held in the esteemed town square, one of the vendors, a fellow named Perez, was selling prints. He had many for sale. I couldn’t resist the one shown above of Our Lady.

Called the Diez y Seis de Septiembre Fiesta, The Sixteenth of September Festival, the village of Mesilla commemorates Mexico’s independence. If you ever go, expect to catch folklorico, (folklore) dancing, mariachi music, art and religious goods vendors and authentic Mexican cuisine. You’ll have a really good time.

My usual contact for Saintly artwork when I visit Mesilla is a woman I met many years ago. She sets up a small table in the town square of Mesilla and offers her 5” X 7” paintings of Saints. Her name is Francesca de Garcia and her website is Saintly Gifts. I have four of her small paintings. One is an original of Our Lady of Guadalupe, shown here, that I traded for a Dream Catcher. On the back of each framed print comes a short story about the subject. In this case, it is the brief story about Our Lady of Guadalupe. I wrote about her last year on This Post.

Francesca Garcia, an artist friend of mine who regularly sets up shop in the town square of Mesilla, NM

Some of Francesca's artwork

Later that same day, we cruised the second hand stores and found a suitable frame for the Perez print. We still haven’t had it matted and placed in the frame, but that will happen before long. I plan on giving this to my sister as a gift to commemorate our mother.

Our Lady of Guadalupe from Francesca's collection

The Story of Juan Diego and his Vision of Gaudalupe , hand written on the back of the print

Later in the month, on that same visit to New Mexico, we spent the night in Taos and found a gallery that had many paintings and sculptures of Los Dias de Los Muertos, the Days of the Dead, and of Our Lady of Guadalupe. This artist is a woman named Anita Rodriguez. I bought four prints from her collection that evening. Most were Los Dias themed, but one was Our Lady of Guadalupe with three soldiers standing at her feet.

The print from Anita Rodriguez

The prints came with Ms. Rodriguez’ card with contact information and a website address. I wrote to her and asked her about then significance of the soldiers with Our Lady. I mentioned in my e-mail that I was a Vietnam Veteran and one of the soldiers was wearing a black beret and the sky blue infantry braid on the shoulder. I went on to mention I was an infantry sergeant and wore these colors. Here is her response:

Hi Joe,

The original painting was a commission by the father of one of the 3, the one with the black beret, in fact. The purpose is to ask for the blessing of Our Lady of Guadalupe upon the 3 figures in the painting, who are presently in Iraq, to keep them safe and far from the trauma of war. The father, a friend of mine, is to use it as an "ofrenda" or kind of visual prayer - he has placed the painting above an altar where he keeps candles lit, fresh flowers, and places objects that have meaning for him.

Anita Rodriguez

You can see the connection to this print that I have. Besides its use as an object of affection I have for Mary, it is also on our ofrenda, come November, for Los Dias de Los Muertos, as it honors the Warrior spirits that have walked before us. This has much meaning to me in my life and seems to be showing me, 40 plus years later, that Our Lady had watched over me as a nineteen year old boy when I was called to duty.

I end this Day 6 of A Virgin a Day sharing with you some of what I have collected over the few short years that I have became enthralled with Mary and her image. As I continue to understand the full meaning to me, I can’t help but to believe that the main influence came to me through my mother and her faith in Mary as the mother of God. It just took a few dozen years to manifest itself. Maybe my heart has something to do with it.

Peace

Here a Mary, There a Mary, Everywhere a Mary Mary Day 5

2011-12-05T05:36:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day

December 5, 2011

We are celebrating the first 12 days of December by posting photos and stories of Our Lady, the Virgin Mary, each day. We started on December 1st and will end on the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Patroness of the Americas, on December 12th. For more photos and stories, visit Rebecca's recuerda mi corazon blog.

While I was looking for fabric and came across the site I posted about for day 2 of A Virgin a Day, I also came across many other goods that used the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I certainly have seen my share of items while walking through the shops in the Southwest. In Santa Fe alone every gallery and gift shop has something in the Our Lady motif.

We were returning from New Mexico at the end of September earlier this year and spent the night in Taos. I had been there earlier that month and browsed a gallery and wanted Mrs. Spadoman to see the fabulous Los Dias de Los Muertos artwork in this one place in particular. While browsing, we discovered an artist and bought some of her prints of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which I will share in another post soon.

On another trip, six months earlier, we were strolling through the shops and galleries of Prescott, AZ. In each of these places, there was no shortage of Our Lady of Guadalupe folk art, or kitsch art, as I might call it. But I love this stuff. Hammered tin, paintings, prints, both serious and whimsical and everything in between. A lot of statues, kitchen magnets, pot holders, flags, banners, aprons, even one depicted on an Air Freshener for the car!

Our Lady of Guadalupe Air Fresheners. I'm wondering about what scent was chosen for these. I might purchase some just to appease my curiosity

Once, I saw a picture of a gear shift knob for the car. Since we drive a manual transmission, I thought that would be the ultimate, to get a genuine Our Lady of Guadalupe gear shift knob. Just as I searched the internet to find that fabric to cover the chairs, I scoured the World Wide Web for a gear shift knob.

Our Lady of Guadalupe gear shift knobs

I found a site that sells them, but they have been out of stock. I found one on Ebay, but because of how scarce they must be, the price was way over the top. I’m still looking. What I did discover was the endless lengths to which people have gone to idolize Our Lady as This Article will attest.

My searching has brought me to more and more of this iconic figure. I quickly was overwhelmed with the choices. The door hanging with her image, like those beaded doorway coverings from the 1960’s, was something we wanted to use in a doorway of our New Mexico place. We thought it would go well with our new chair seat coverings. I found a site to order one of these but found them not to be cheap to purchase.

Our Lady of Guadalupe hanging door curtain

Shops such as Catholic to the Max and The Mary Shop are unique to non Catholics and people that never would think of “buying” Mary, but they exist for those that honor and cherish and want Our Lady to touch every part of their lives.

This Icon of the world is out there in full force. Even the last second desperation forward pass in the National Football League is called the Hail Mary pass, and its meaning is known throughout sports. Announcers use this term with the understanding that everyone watching the game or reading the sports news article knows what they are referring to.

Want more Mary in your life? You can check out the links I have strewn throughout this post and find a plethora of goods with her image, or maybe try a simple prayer. Either way, when you find yourself in times of trouble, Mother Mary will come to you and she’ll speak words of wisdom. Let that be as it may be. (Thanks John and Paul).

Peace

Sacred Earth Mother

2011-12-04T04:46:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day

FROM: December 8, 2010

Day 8 last year, Day 4 this year, 2011

This is another Repost from last year. This one represents how I feel about our connectedness to the Sacred Mother Earth. I believe the natural earth is indeed the Mother of us all and nurtures, heals and allows us to live .

Our Lady of Guagalupe

A Virgin a Day is the title of this Meme Project. It is a tribute to Our Lady of Guadalupe. It started on December first and will culminate on the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which is December 12th.Of course I continue to dedicate all of these posts to my Mother, Carmelina Rosa Caruso Spado. A memorial to her love and devotion to her family, and to the Blessed Virgin Mary.

To participate, see Rebecca’s recuerdo mi corazon blog. There, you will get more definition and instructions as well as see other’s submissions, which, If I may add, are quite fascinating, artistic, poetic and bold.

A Virgin a Day. Yes, Mother Earth. The Supreme Mother of all of us, but a virgin? Well, think of it this way. She renews herself constantly, always fresh and pure is the water that comes up in her springs, even after we pollute it with waste and chemicals, she purifies the water for our renewal. The water, the life blood, our life blood, the life blood of the Sacred Earth Mother. We do our best to pollute the water and the air, but the Earth Mother renews and allows us to breathe and drink.

We blemish her body with scars from war, mining, buildings, roads and general disregard. We heap trash onto and into her, but she contains and holds and renews for us. The soil regenerates for plant growth naturally. Ever see a place where nothing is growing? Even the rockiest and driest of all desert landscapes, or the icy netherlands of the coldest places, have life. One seed can sprout and grow a plant just as one was made into a Man God in the form of Jesus Christ from Mary’s womb.

Mother Earth takes all of the suffering in the form of mankind’s waste and garbage, just as Mary is said to take mankind’s suffering, and gives us healing

In Northern Minnesota, they used to mine iron ore. There are huge abandoned open pit mines, not only there, but in many places on Earth. An example of the power of the Sacred Earth Mother is that these places, once scars and open wounds on Mother Earth, are tree covered beautiful places now that the mining has stopped, some with lakes teeming with fish, and habitat to protect other plant and animal species. Just as we heal from scars, just as we heal from what happens to us.

The womb of Mother Earth is everywhere. Life can and does spring forth. Try as we might to scar her, tread on her, soil her, deplete her, she rises and gives us more. There is always a place, the Sacred Earth Mother provides for us. Even the barren desert is shelter.

I can easily make a connection between The Blessed Virgin Mary and Mother Earth as one in the same. They both are Sacred. They both are the Mother of all things. One is the other, or at least epitomizes each other.

The Blessed Virgin is steady, and has led mankind to God in her mission. She does this constantly and never fails in moving forward on that mission. Never faltering in her attempt to free mankind from bondage.

Mother Earth is the same. The sunrise is never late. Unbending intent, can be said, to show how the sun, moon and stars align in an unfaltering rhythm, day after day, year after year, millennium after millennium.

My presentation today, Day 8 of this Virgin Project, is Earth. Mother Earth. It’s part of the language. We say “Mother Earth”. She is known to most everyone by that moniker, just as Catholics and Non Catholics alike know who Our Blessed Virgin Mary is.

The Queen of Heaven is allowed to stand upon the Sacred Earth Mother

The blood, skin, bones and hair of mankind and animals, along with the plant life and decomposition make the soil. Mother Earth then, is all of us. The Universe is all of us. God is all of us, and makes no distinction. Cold makes everything cold, heat the same. Mother Earth will swallow you, whether in a box or as an ash, and we all will revert back for renewal.

The Mother of The Blessed Virgin is Mother Earth. I thank the Sacred Earth Mother for giving us so much, for giving us Mary, for giving us a Higher Power that we can see everyday in the heavens as stars at night, and the brightness of the sky in the day, for feeding us and taking away our thirst.

Think about it.

Peace

On the Road With Mary

2011-12-03T02:28:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day

Day 3

Excuse me as I post this from last years A Virgin a Day

A Virgin a Day is the title of this Meme Project. It is a tribute to Our Lady of Guadalupe. It started on December first and will culminate on the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which is December 12th. Of course I continue to dedicate all of these posts to my Mother, Carmelina Rosa Caruso Spado. A memorial to her love and devotion to her family, and to the Blessed Virgin Mary.

I just returned from a quick trip out East to Washington DC. That's why there are no Virgin posts from Round Circle for Days 3,4,5 and 6. So, I continue this fabulous project with Day 7. I went alone and when I wasn’t listening to the radio or singing to myself, I was thinking about whatever popped into my head. I knew that I wanted to write stories to fill in the remaining six days of, what I consider to be a great project meme, A Virgin a Day. I was reading the comments on another person’s blog, and one made by a friend of mine. She referred to my posts as Encyclopedic. I guess the others were, to a degree, and so is this one. But hopefully, I’ve added some personal flair. Certainly don’t want to get a reputation.

It wasn’t only on this latest trip that I noticed the existence of Mary on the side of the road. Mary is everywhere. Statues in Catholic cemeteries standing guard over the graves of loved ones, or in a religious goods store that might have examples from the sublime postcard to the extravagant hand painted life size plaster rendering fit for a church. You'll find her In lawn and garden shops, and at roadside vendors who sell cement statues of everything from the aforementioned Mary to a giant elephant. When In New Mexico, the displays at every garden shop and gift store is Our Lady of Guadalupe with her colorful clothing and background fan of glory.

Cement lawn ornaments being sold at the side of the road

You can find small grottoes outfitted with Our Lady by the side of the road while in the Southwest. Up here in the Northland, not so much, but I did almost pass by the Dickeyville Grotto, located in a small town in the extreme Southwestern corner of the state, close to where US Highway 61 meets the Iowa border.

This is called The Dickeyville Grotto. It sits on the grounds of The Holy Ghost Church in Dickeyville, WI

This grotto was built by Father Matthias Wernerus during a time period between 1925 and 1930. A stone mason, he used all kinds of materials from all over the world. This passage, from their website, mentions the materials used:

It is a creation in stone, mortar and bright colored objects-collected materials from all over the world. These include colored glass, gems, antique heirlooms of pottery or porcelain, stalagmites and stalactites, sea shells, starfish, petrified sea urchins and fossils, and a variety of corals, amber glass, agate, quartz, ores, such as iron, copper and lead, fool's gold, rock crystals, onyx, amethyst and coal, petrified wood and moss.

Here is a close-up example of some of the stonework.

Click to enlarge any of the photos. In this example, you can see the colorful assortment of stones used at the Dickeyville site. Quite an undertaking when you consider the size of the entire area

The grotto of the Blessed Virgin is the frontal piece of this area, situated at the side of the Holy Ghost parish church. Here is a photo of Our Lady, inside the grotto, protected under glass.

The Virgin Mother under glass at Dickeyville

Other Virgins can be seen with a keen eye while traveling through rural areas on two lane roads or in towns and cities. The statues are everywhere. Some white plaster, some painted with her majesty wearing the robin’s egg blue robe. Some people build mini grottoes to hold her, like little houses, and some buy a grotto from a store that might specialize in such matters, like Lawn Ornaments and Fountains.com. They also have a great selection of statues of Mary

Mary in a Bathtub is a way of life

And then there is Mary in a Bathtub. I’m not going to tell you that there isn’t some humor involved, but then again, this is serious Virgin Business. Ever since Mrs. Spadoman and I got married and started traveling, we have spotted these roadside Marys. We drive a lot of small two-lane roads across the United States. Here’s how it started for us:

“Mary.” Barb said, pointing her finger in the direction of a statue in someone’s front yard.

“What? Those are everywhere.” I’d say in a matter of fact response.

Five minutes later

“Mary, Oh, and another Mary, one in a bath tub", she’d exclaim.

“So, how many have you seen today” I ask.

“I have three, you don’t have any, you better start lookin’” she taunts.

“I’m not playing this game, those are all over the place.” I say sarcastically.

“You don’t have a choice, it’s a way of life, like seeing a VW bug, Oh look, Mary in a bath tub, I have four.”

You get the idea. We don’t go anywhere and not have this competition. VW beetle automobiles, signs where someone has used a “K” where a “C” should be used and Mary/Mary in a bath tub. We have used the phrase Naked Mary, to denote no bath tub or other grotto being used, and the yard statue stands “naked”. Of course you don’t get credit for any Marys that are seen in a cemetery or at a church, those are public domain.

Here’s a photo of a simple Mary in a grotto at someone’s home close to where I live.

A typical rural Wisconsin roadside Mary seen displayed in a home made grotto

The Catholic religious stores and garden centers that sell lawn art usually have a plastic “aura”, or bath tub-like enclosure, that can be used with your statue, like the one seen in the photo below, more info at THIS LINK.

You can buy this one, along with a statue of Mary, online.

It takes quite an artistic talent and a lot of brute strength and determination to use an old claw foot cast iron 350 pound bath tub, but some do it, and some make the wooden structures themselves as well. Here’s an example of a tub model from Google Images.

That's a big bath tub!

So, that’s my Virgin today. The Blessed Virgin Mary, on display, at the side of the road, along with a way of life for spotting her. I can't help but wonder how many people's lives might be transformed by the site of these simple images of the Mother of God. For that matter, I wonder if anyone else has the way of life?

By the way, as I was writing this article, I asked Mrs. Spadoman where she thought we have seen the most. Her response? Upper Peninsula Michigan in Ironwood, Bessemer and Wakefield. The area seems to be loaded with them. She’s winning, I’m sure, but no one has an actual count.

Peace

Some Art Fabric

2011-12-02T04:04:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day & Haiku My Heart
December 2, 2011

Today is Day 2 of the 12 days of A Virgin a Day. Many of us will post a Virgin Mary themed post every day, starting on December 1st and culminating with the Feast Day celebration of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Patroness of the Americas, on December 12th. The common disclaimer is that this is not meant to be religious, but rather to create community with visuals and words. More posts can be seen and you can find out how to participate at Rebecca’s recuerda mi corazon blog.

It is also Friday, and that means haiku My Heart, also at Rebecca's recuerda mi corazon. I will add a Hiaku to this post and try to say what these fabrics are telling me.

Guadalupe art

Whimsical Mary visions

Decorate my heart

I’ve always enjoyed the colorful artwork of the paintings, statues and paraphernalia of the Virgin Mary. Especially Our Lady of Guadalupe. She is colorful with her oranges, blues, purples and reds. When we bought a used dinette set at the Goodwill store in Las Cruces, NM last September, we looked at the tattered seat covers and immediately thought we’d recover them.

Since this small table and chairs would be used in our Winter abode in New Mexico, we thought we’d use a common theme of the Southwest, Our Lady of Guadalupe. It was quite simple. I Googled Our Lady of Guadalupe fabric and came up with THIS SITE.

I have posted some photos of the fabric that is sold by Some Art Fabric, which is actually a Blog! We chose one and got a couple of yards. Now that our plans have changed and there will be no Winter abode or even any Winter travel this year, I am thinking I’d like to get a shirt made from one of these Guadalupe fabrics. After all, Mrs. Spadoman has a Guadalupe dress, as I posted last year during this Virgin Business.

Mrs. Spadoman modeling her Guadalupe dress

We’ll see. Mrs. S got a new sewing machine recently. Maybe she’ll have her first big project. We’ll both need something to keep us busy spending the Winter in the Northland. In the meantime, I’ll stay busy gathering up more “Mary Stuff” for the rest of the days leading up to the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe on December 12th.

Peace

Our Lady of Mount Carmel

2011-12-01T04:24:00.000-08:00

A Virgin a Day
December 1, 2011

December first already. The time seems to fly by. I’ve been looking forward to December as I want to participate in ”A Virgin a Day”. This exercise is in respectful recognition of the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Patroness to the Americas. Her Feast Day is celebrated on December 12th each year. The mission of this Virgin Business is to post photos, stories and admiration for the many faces of The Blessed Virgin Mary. A link can be found at Rebecca’s recuerda mi corazon blog where you can find out how to participate or just enjoy the photos and stories.

These posts will run daily starting today and end on December 12th. For those of you that might think this is a Catholic thing or it is an expression and attempt to force my religion down your throat, consider instead the prospect that it is an informative, educational, artistic, whimsical and cultural glimpse into tolerance, acceptance and peace. This is far better expressed by the creator of A Virginn a Day, Rebecca, who states:

calling all virgins...

enchanting, traditional, contemporary,

exotic, edgy, campy, irreverent, irresistible,

unusual, joyful, rapturous, lovely,

glorious, ordinary, astounding,

simply

bring her on!

I will start today with my childhood. I lived in a close-in suburb of Chicago called Melrose Park. Melrose had a very ethnic presence. There were 26 homes on the two sides of the street where we lived, 22nd Avenue. 19 of them had Italian surnames. Almost all were Catholic. The nearest Catholic church was Our Lady of Mount Carmel, just South about a half mile.

Statue of Our Lady of Mount Carmel

Our custom was to attend church services every Sunday. Of course my mother wanted us to attend Catholic school but my dad said, “No”. It was expensive and he didn’t want to pay for it. This meant that if we were to get the teachings and sacraments of the Catholic religion, we went to weekly mass and attended catechism classes.

I look back and what seemed to me as a child growing up to be a boring time to have to spend that hour per week in the oaken pew standing, sitting, kneeling, praying and listening to the choir singing in Latin along with the extra hour learning what being a Catholic is in a stuffy classroom, was actually a very cool and beautiful place.

Interior of the old Our Lady of Mount Carmel church in Melrose Park, IL

You see, the art work that I never paid heed to as a youngster turned out to be the most beautiful as I’ve seen in any church anywhere. The pomp of a high mass celebrated at Noon on Sunday could have been entertaining and I’d love to have the experience of the singing and prayers narrated in Latin, just as I loved attending a full gospel baptist service down in South Carolina when I went there to visit the family of a fallen soldier friend from Vietnam.

I’ve posted a photo of a statue of Our Lady of Mount Carmel and a photo of the inside of the church as It was in the 50’s and 60’s when I was growing up. My sister was married there and her children baptized. Each Summer in mid July a great celebration ensued with rides, games and the best Italian food anywhere. Our Lady of Mount Carmel has her Feast Day on July 16th. The Feast, as it was called, attracted people far and wide and lasted almost a full week in the hot and sultry Midwest Summer. The celebration still thrives today, and although I haven’t attended in over ten years, the prospect of trying to make it this next Summer might be a good idea as I am remembering the food.

When I look back at that interior photo, I see the cracks in the plaster and remember reading the words painted in gold leaf on the ceiling along with the images of that faith. Since they were in Latin, I always tried to pronounce them and wondered what they meant. Now, I know. It must have rubbed off as I use it as my sign-off on every letter and post I write.

Pax Vobiscum

And Even More Changes

2011-11-30T09:31:00.000-08:00

Stock photo of the Main Entrance of the Minneapolis VA Medical Center

It was a full day at the VA yesterday. Started with them needing some bloodwork, then on to the Warfarin Clinic. From there to Xray, then an EKG. I hand carried the results to the Device Clinic where it was explained to me that I would be receiving a monitor in the mail and it had to be set up somewhere near where I sleep. Mine will be wireless as we don’t have land-line phone service.

This monitor will report what the Pacemaker is doing every night while I sleep.

The last appointment was with the Dysrhythmia doctor. He looked me over along with the results of the Xray and EKG and set a schedule for the future. Since the Warfarin Clinic results did not have me in the proper blood thinness level range, some adjustment was made on how much Coumadin I am taking. Hopefully, I’ll get regulated into the range they want it to be. This medication breaks up any blood clots and stops them from forming.

Since I had a blood clot, and they have a picture of it from a procedure I got when I was in the hospital, they want to wait two full months before looking for it again. They used a scope/camera that you swallow, like an endoscopy, except it photographs the inside of the heart. They did this on November 11th, so they will wait until mid-January to look again.

If there are no signs of any blood clots, they will do an Ablation. They literally go up with a catheter into the heart and change the electric impulses around to get the heart to fall back into a normal sinus rhythm. From there, if all is successful, the Medtronic D334TRG Pacemaker that was implanted in my chest will do the rest.

Sounds so simple. But it’s my heart they’ll be playing with. But I feel lucky on a number of fronts. First of all, the doctor that did a lot of the procedural work at the hospital used to work at the VA. He called those he knew from the departments and discussed my case with them. They knew of my case and were ready to serve me. You see, when I called 911 that fateful night and got into the ambulance, they took me to United Hospital in St. Paul, not the VA. I was told there were no beds available at the VA and that they authorized United to do any treatment they deemed necessary at their expense. That was a stroke of luck right along with this next tidbit.

Seems United gave me the “High End” Pacemaker, the newest design, the one with the fewest flaws. Around $40,000.00 worth of hardware implanted in my chest! That means the occurrence of an erroneous shock is lessened. It also means that when I got out of the hospital and started going to the clinics at the VA, they want to protect their investment and get things to work properly. Hopefully that’ll be the case.

I think these things are answers to prayers. I think there is positive energy coursing through me. Then again, maybe it’s not about me at all. Maybe some intern needs the practice.

In between the clinic visits, I had to have a quick lunch and get to pharmacy to check in with a pharmacist. The doctor I talked to on the phone yesterday ordered a change in some medications and I had to pick them up so I could start using them immediately. Then when all was finished, over six hours since I arrived there, I had to check in with fee basis and the travel department.

Fee basis is allowing me twelve visits to the local hospital in my home town for Cardiac Rehab. That will save me having to drive the 90 mile round trip to the VA to get some walking on the treadmill three days a week with medical staff supervision.

All in all, I feel better than I have since October 26th when I first started feeling punk. I am fortunate to have health care and I have absolutely no complaints about any services at the VA. They seem to be doing what they promised me back in 1968, that they would take care of my health care needs for the rest of my life. This was promised as I accepted the honor of serving my country when they asked.

My mind set is an up and down playground. I can feel so good, then get depressed in an instant. Monday, I didn’t feel like doing anything. Today I wanted to tell you all about it. I guess this kind of physical trauma and the mixture of ever changing drugs has something to do with that. I’ll do my best to get through it. In the meantime, I plan on joining my friend Rebecca at recuerda mi corazon for the Second Annual 12 Days of Mary, or as we called it last year, "A Virgin a Day". This Virgin Business runs from the first to the twelfth of December, culminating on the Feast Day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, Patron Saint of the Americas. To me, this is a very reverent exercise in Faith, Art, Culture and Peace.

Mrs. Spadoman is home safe and sound with the entire mission accomplished. I am very proud of her. She made the trip exactly how I would have done it. One day at a time. Isn't that a well-known saying that I should be heeding? All I can do is try, just as I try to stay thankful to all of you for the prayers, energy and support.

Peace my Friends

Changes in Attitude

2011-11-28T03:25:00.000-08:00

I have to say a few things out loud. Writing them down is best for me. It’s actually my only choice as Mrs. Spadoman is on the road, and that means my soul mate isn’t around for me to bounce my troubles off of.

She is in New Mexico. She went down to take care of our business with the apartment, the bank, the post office and the gas company. She also will bring back our personal belongings from the place we were renting down there.

Seeing as we weren’t going to be going down there and making use of the place, the land lord found another tenant and let us off the hook for the rest of the lease. The new tenants are to move in December 1st, so we had to get our stuff out of there.

I tell you, it’s pretty damn hard for me not to be making this trip with her, you know how much I love to travel, and it seems harder to be home alone. But Mrs. S needed the break as she has been on edge throughout the entire hospital stay. I am stable enough to be alone, and the chore had to be done. Besides, I have a cell phone for any emergency and very optimistic that I won’t need to use it.

As far as my recovery process is concerned, I can tell you that there is definite improvement. I am breaking in the new routines and they are becoming habit. My weight is down. I’m getting used to the lowered blood pressure and I am able to drive into town and walk around the grocery store and stop in at the coffee shop. The bigger problem is I haven’t had a cup of coffee, or any caffeine for that matter, since October 26th!

What I am having a problem with is a desire to participate in many things at the level I did before all this happened. One of these things is computer involvement. That means reading and writing the blogs and Facebook interaction, all the stuff I did on a regular basis.

I sit a lot and watch TV. I read a little and stare out the window, watching the birds at the feeder. This morning, I got up really early because I went to bed really early. I had the luxury of listening to a very loud hoot owl for about a half hour long concert.

This is by no means a sad thing. I am not suffering. I just don’t have the drive and desire right now to create. It will come, but isn’t there right now.

Please bear with me as I adjust. I’m sure the new drug regimen has something to do with it. I am forever thankful for all the outpouring of thoughts and prayers and concern all of you have shown. I cannot seem to convey how much I appreciate it. And although my presence to your pages and postings on my own pages is slow and intermittent, I am still around and hope to get back to normal soon.

Thank you.

Peace

New Mexico Dreaming

2011-11-25T05:44:00.000-08:00

Haiku My Heart

November 25, 2011

Haiku My Heart is a weekly forum with folks from all around the globe participating. Read more at Rebecca's recuerda mi corazon.

A load of chile ristras hanging up, ready for giving to friends and neighbors for the holidays

Colorful chiles

Ristras for a fragile soul

Will be missed this year

New Mexico State Flag

Glad I have photos from all my years past in New Mexico. Mrs. Spadoman and I have postponed any traveling for the rest of this Winter, at least for now. I still have some tests and procedures to get through and need to build up more strength. All that is coming along, but it will take a lot of time.

The landlord in Truth or Consequences has found a tenant for our little casita and my motorcycle is safely stored away in Albuquerque at a dealership there. The places aren't going to move away and I am more optimistic every day that I'll visit this fabulous land again in my future, a feeling I didn't have two short weeks ago.

Luckily, we have ristras and other colorful paintings, blankets and clothing from the Southwest. We even have a bag of frozen green chiles in the freezer and found an outlet that will ship them when we are in the mood for a New Mexican style meal. Of course with wholesale diet changes for me, those kind of meals might be less often and even then, less in quantity. Maybe it is a good thing we’re not going to be there this Winter.

In the meantime, I’ll gaze upon what I have here at home sweet home and watch the fire crackling away in the fireplace as the snow flakes wander down from heaven. It’s still very nice to be home, and yesterday, I spent with my family at the youngest daughter’s place. It was such an experience to be thankful for, to be with everyone, watching football, listening to the kids laughter, sharing large quantities of really good food and generally just seeing the relief in everyones face and smile that we’re all together again. I am truly blessed for having them, and for having you, my bloglandia friends. Thank you all, again and again, for your support through all this.

May Peace be in your lives

Slowly Getting Back to Normal

2011-11-22T07:49:00.000-08:00

It wasn’t that long ago I started to write about how things used to be back in the good old days. I’m talking about before the likes of Walmart and the corporate stranglehold on our lives. There was a time of a different existence.

I was reminded of this time the other day when the doorbell rang and someone from the local coffee shop, The Dish and the Spoon Cafe here in River Falls, brought us a basket of food.

Back in the day, mom did the shopping. She’d go to the butcher for meat, the bakery for bread and the market for fruits and vegetables. There was also the shoe store, the dress shop, the men’s clothing store, the florist and the gas station, not to mention a store for pretty much about any item you might need in a household.

There were larger grocery stores that only had hours from eight in the morning until nine at night and closed at six PM on Saturday. Sunday? Forget about it!

We had a small neighborhood store on the corner called Arlene’s. I’d be sent up there to get a loaf of bread, a dozen eggs or a ½ gallon of milk. Maybe a pack of smokes back when my folks were smokers.

Bob’s Texaco, next door to Arlene’s, pumped gas and had a couple of repair bays. Bob always had time for us neighborhood kids. We could go on his desk and help ourselves to a cookie or two from a package he had opened up or grab a banana.

We roamed the alleys for empty glass pop bottles and redeemed them for 2 cents a piece back at Arlene’s. A couple of coke bottles found on the ground would fetch some candy from the bins located along the counter at the front of the store.

If something went wrong with someone from the neighborhood, it was people like Arlene that would take care of things so folks wouldn’t have to worry. When my Grandpa was sick and close to meeting his maker, Arlene would allow us kids to get the milk and bread and the folks could pay later, and when Grandpa passed away, she sent flowers and gave out hugs.

When life all changed from this model of neighborhoods and close relationships with the people that provided us with goods and services, it was the death of a greeting card of condolence from people like Arlene who ran the places we traded with. No one had ever gotten a card or flowers from a big box store.

When Jody from the Dish stopped by the other day with a freshly baked quiche, pasta, lettuce and fruit salads and scones, the faith I had from a bygone era was shown to me.

While I’ve been dealing with these heart matters, it has put pressure on the entire family. Visits to the emergency room and the doctor’s office. Extra jockeying of the children here and there for day care, no time to get to the grocery and general helter skelter made it hard to plan a meal let alone gather what was needed and prepare it.

The gift of prepared food from our neighbors at the coffee shop lifted a burden from our lives and provided us with sustenance. This is the spirit of giving from the heart.

Our faith in humanity is renewed, or at least we were reminded of it, and promise to pay it forward when we see a friend or neighbor in need was made.

This morning was my first visit back to The Dish and the Spoon Cafe since the first of November. The regular baristas were there and welcomed me with hugs. Then Emily wandered by and stopped to tell me that she missed me and was so glad that I was back. Abbie came in and stopped for a hug. I tell you, they may have greeters in Walmart, but they’re no match for friends that remind you that if there is anything I need that I shouldn’t hesitate to call.

I thank Abbie and her mother, Emily, the owners of The Dish and the Spoon Cafe, and the entire staff. I was sure to let them know how appreciated they are in our community.

Thanks so much you guys. You are truly neighborhood friends.

Peace

First Round Scorecard

2011-11-18T05:09:00.000-08:00

Haiku My Heart
November 18, 2011

Haiku My Heart is done every Friday. To see more and find out how you can participate, see Rebecca's recuerda mi corazon blog.

Joe Spadoman, one

Creator not done with me

Grimm Reaper, zero

There is a tree outside my hospital room window. It is full of green leaves. I don’t know what kind of tree holds its leaves this far into November here in the Northland, but it sits outside my window and tells me that there is still life in it. Not ready to become dormant. Not ready to die.

I have been getting messages from friends and family throughout this ordeal. There is no way I can tell any one of you how uplifting and important it is to read or hear that someone is thinking good thoughts for me and my family. I am eternally grateful and can only mutter the words thank you with humility and keep my head firmly hanging, hiding the tears.

Huckleberry Finn had the extreme luxury of attending his own funeral. He heard people eulogizing his life. I feel so blessed and fortunate that I have been afforded this same luxury as people who have never met me speak such wonderful words about me and pray for me.

I will tell you, it worked so far. I do have a good fight ahead of me, but for now, I have been sent home after almost two weeks in the hospital and I will wait for time to pass and the drug chemicals to work in my bloodstream to break up a clot in my heart. In the meantime, a pacemaker device was installed in my chest, upper left side. All of these procedures while trying to control diabetes and keep my lungs, legs and stomach clear of fluid from congestive heart failure. It will take perseverance, discipline and a lot of help from my family.

The changes in medication alone will once again change the way I live, but the doctors are optimistic that I will improve. They tell me that I will be able to ride my motorcycle again someday.

When I came out of anesthesia after my second triple bypass in 2003, I found myself alone with my thoughts, and although heavily sedated, I talked with the Creator. I told the Great Mystery that if it was my time, I am ready. I was told that it wasn’t my time and to fight for my life. I recall clenching my fists and feeling the adrenaline flowing through my body. Like Rocky Balboa I rose up and lived again.

When I was recovering from this 2003 surgery, I felt that I’d never come around and that I’d never walk comfortably again. Yes, the recovery process took a while, but I have been able to enjoy a very reasonable lifestyle, considering the circumstances, since then, right up to when my heart went aflutter on October 26th of this year.

I must believe that every day that I see my reflection in the mirror is another day of opportunity at living life. I also realize that It isn’t about me at all, and that I owe this continuation of life to God, as we understand him, and the many souls that take part in wanting me to be around. That would be my family, my friends and my loving wife Barb that is the glue that holds all of us together.

My haiku today is not a bragging right, nor is it a declaration of victory. It is a testament to the power of the many human spirits that walk the universe and ask, dream, wish, hope and ponder the idea that one person’s life is important enough to let him know they think it is. I cannot begin to tell you how much I appreciate all the kindness that has been afforded to my family and myself.

In that essence, I send prayers of thanks back to you to use when you need them. I send these every day and say that I believe it was your prayers of light and love that allow me to be here today to speak this prayer to you:

Creator, Thank you for the light of day

Thank you for another day

Thank you for this new day today

Thank you for the rest you’ve given us

Thank you for the coolness that gives us comfort from the heat

Thank you for the warmth that brings us comfort from the cold

I thank you for the Sacred Circle that this creates, and for the opportunity to be a part of this Sacred Circle and the lessons it teaches

Thank you for listening to the prayers of the people

Thank you for listening to my prayers today

Today I pray for the Veterans, for the Elders, for the Addicted, for the Sick and Infirmed. I pray for the families and friends of these so that their suffering is relieved as well

I pray for the Children, the Families and Relationships

I pray for the Spiritual Leaders that help the people to pray, for their families and for their safe travel

Mitakwe Oyasin

Go back to the first paragraph of this post. Read it again. Yesterday, when the doctor came into my room and examined me to allow my trip back to my home, the sun was shining brightly, as it has for the past week. I watched the people walking to and fro bundled up against a raw North wind. That tree started to drop its leaves, and by noon, it was barren, with the still green clumps of small feathery leaves scattered on the sidewalk, street and courtyard like a blanket.

This tree spoke to me every day and sent me your words and thoughts. I was able to see the life you sent to me every day and I felt it. Now, as I have spent the first night in my own bed after a fortnight away, I slept soundly, and I thank you from the bottom of my soul.

Peace

Field of Dreams

2011-11-06T01:05:00.000-07:00

Shadow Shot Sunday
November 6, 2011

Every Sunday, folks from all a round the globe het together and post their Shadowy images. To see more and find out how you can participate, visit Hey Harriet's Photography.

I made this Dream Catcher for a friend. While photographing to archive this piece, the shadows appeared, seemingly made by the flash. I liked the effect.

Here's another shot of the same piece using ambient light and no flash. Some unique shadows created here too.

Hope everyone has a fine weekend and enjoys the Shadows.

Peace

Broken Heart

2011-11-03T23:06:00.000-07:00

Haiku My Heart
November 4, 2011

Haiku My Heart is the creation of Rebecca who pens the recuerda mi corazon blog. To see more haiku and to find out how to participate, go to recuerda mi corazon.

Heart beat is broken

Relaxing comfortably

Loving being loved

An update is in order. You, my friends, deserve it. I don’t know if you realize how much your words, thoughts and prayers mean to me and my family. Each and every one of you is so greatly appreciated. Thank you all so much.

I experienced something called Atrial Fibrillation. My heart rate went way up and now beats out of sync. Along with this diagnosis came the evidence of Congestive Heart Failure. A friend of mine thought they should call it something a little less dramatic, like it’s a heart pump issue. Like she says, “Who wants to hear the words ‘heart’ and ‘failure’ in the same sentence?”

The heart failure has my heart pumping at 30 percent. The fibrillation has my heart racing and beating irregularly, skipping some beats. All of these issues on the back of pneumonia and this lingering bronchitis and its ugly raspy dry annoying cough.

Aside from the fear I had when I felt the sensations in my chest, the drugs leave me dizzy, disorientated, weak and tired. Yet I can’t sleep from the shortness of breath that wakes me if I doze off while watching TV or manifests itself if I lay down.

There but for the grace of God go I

This phrase sums it up as I have no other thoughts or reasons for living through what my heart and I have been through over the years.

I have the diagnosis and the treatment has started. This process is hard as every body is different and the chemicals need adjustment. I see permanent changes in my lifestyle ahead and I accept them. Perhaps my days as a traveler are over. Surely if this had happened while driving across the desert alone the outcome wouldn't be quite so rosy. Maybe there will be more activities that I will have to recall as a memory instead of participating in them as before.

Mrs. Spadoman believes my heart was broken from my participation in the American war in Vietnam. A Spiritual break, if you will. On top of that, there’s the mechanical stuff happening now and the clogged arteries from exposure to Agent Orange. There’s the heartbreak of the surgeries themselves, where someone has my own heart in their hands as my breath is created from a machine. The pain in my heart still and forever from losing our daughter. The broken hearted feeling that comes with witnessing and taking part in a war as a young person, barely old enough to be called a man, and watching war continue at the hands of the masters.

There was a time when I would never believe I had a friend. I felt completely alone and abandoned, even by my family members, I thought. Through a healing path, I started to realize, as I learned, that I am loved. The next step was to accept it and believe it.

That’s where you come in. Strangers, for the most part, even the few that I have met in person don’t really know who I am. You say such wonderful kind things to me on my blog. You accept me and my quirkiness. You tell me you love me and you wish, for me, nothing but the best speedy recovery from my wounds.

I tell you I cry when I read your comments. I am crying now. And not only did I learn to accept and believe I am loved, I learned how to love too. How to love my family more than I thought I did. How to love you, my friends, and my enemies as well.

I’m a lucky man to have this family I have, and to have you as friends. I don’t know why I am still around, but I am. Maybe I’ll get to know the answer to all things mystical someday, but for today, I am thankful and I love you all.

The feeling I have in my broken heart is one of Peace. Amidst the broken beats knowing why I cry gives me my path. Knowing you makes it worth while as I feel that now, it is your hands that hold my heart together.

May peace bless each and every one of you, totally, every day of your lives

Dia De Bloglandia 2011

2011-11-01T17:50:00.000-07:00

The Ofrenda at the Spadoman household, 2011

My dear friends. Here are a few photos I took of our Altar. We cancelled our celebration tonight because of my illness, but the spirits are here and enjoying themselves. I am so sorry that I don't have the energy to give this event the attentionn it deserves.

A couple of our guests

Check out the great blog posts for this years Dia De Bloglandia A Mr. Linky listing can be found at Rebecca's recuerda mi corazon blog.

A whimsical creature

I thank all of you for your thoughts and prayers. It will take some time and effort to recover properly, and I'll do my best to make it happen.

Our daughter Maggie

Peace and love to all.

Saturday Morning

2011-10-29T00:43:00.000-07:00

Pardon this interruption. This has been a very exciting week here in Spadoville. What started out as an easy going exercise in putting the finishing touches on our Day of the Dead altar and assembling a pile of items slated to go to New Mexico next week turned sour when I woke up Wednesday morning with pains in my chest and some kind of rumbling instead of a heartbeat.

I have been diagnosed with Atrial Fibrillation. Basically, I feel it as an uneven beating of my heart with upper chambers, the atrium, not in sync with the lower ones. This made my heart rate race to levels well into the 160’s. On top of this, I am still dealing with the after effects of Pneumonia and Bronchitis, and a touch of Congestive Heart Failure is being investigated as well. Given my heart history, this is just another piece of the why am I alive puzzle.

Three days in the hospital after a 45 mile ambulance ride has my life changing once again, yet I live on, in spite of it.

I’ll spare any more details for now save to say I am home and have so many new medications and doctor appointments scheduled that going anywhere is out of the question. This means there will be no trips to New Mexico until things settle down and my health gets stabilized, what ever that means.

Right now, I need to concentrate on breathing, one breath at a time, and following the instructions on my pill bottles. I’ll throw in some relaxation as well.

Our Celebration for Los Dias de Los Muertos is scheduled to go as planned on November 1st. Family members will pitch in and help with the cooking and set up. Other than that, I have no other plans and will take life day to day. That probably means participation in the usual blog memes and activities may experience a set back.

I don’t know what the plan is for me as far as the next step. No sense in wondering how this will turn out as I cannot predict the future, but it seems to be another turning point in this road called life. I’ll deal with it as I can and try really hard to make the burden on my family as delicate as possible.

Peace

Monday Mystery Tour, October 24, 2011

2011-10-24T06:10:00.000-07:00

It was two years ago in October, I took a trip to Seattle, Washington for a reunion of the Army unit I was with when I served in Vietnam. I wrote a couple of stories about the reunion, but I never told anyone about the trip. I used Amtrak to travel across the country. Train travel has a unique feel to it and I like it. It’s not quick at all, and these days, it’s not cheap either. In fact, the airlines can be quite a bit cheaper when you consider you have to feed yourself for the days you are on the train, where the plane has you there in hours. There is also the problem of having a place to sleep on the train. The coach seat can accommodate, but is not very comfortable, and the reservation of a sleeping berth really brings the cost up for the train travel.

But sometimes, it’s not about the money. I see it as you have to eat anyway, whether it is boarding a plane and getting there in a few hours or riding for 36. I prefer the adventure of the train ride, the scenery, the people watching and interaction, the small towns and big cities, the ability to get up and move around, and time to think.

In the case of the trip to Seattle, I needed to think a lot. Going there, I was anticipating what the reunion would be like, who I’d see there, what would be said. On the way home from such an experience, I just needed time to debrief what had just taken place. After all, it has been over forty years since I got home from Vietnam. I knew I’d have a lot to contemplate after getting in touch with so many old memories.

The platform at Minot, North Dakota

The passenger train routes have names. Here in the USA, if you were to travel West from Chicago, the hub of the Nation, the Empire Builder, which made the trip along the Northern reaches of the country, took you to Seattle or Portland. The Zephyr, which traversed two mountain ranges and crossed the midsection through the Rockies and Denver and The Sierras through Sacramento, ended near San Francisco at Emeryville, just on the East side of the San Francisco Bay. The Southwest Chief, took the route through Albuquerque and on to Los Angeles in the Southern part of the United States.

I’ve been on all these routes at one time or another. My trip in 2009 for the reunion was the Empire Builder to Seattle. I boarded at St. Paul, MN at around eleven PM and arrived just about 36 hours later, a little after ten AM.

If you’ve never been on a train, let me give you a blow by blow description of a normal no frills coach passenger trip. I bought my ticket on line. I had a print out and simply held the SKU bar code under a scanning light at a small kiosk which was well marked and there for just that sort of service.

My tickets were promptly printed out. If I had bags to check, I filled out label cards and attached them to the bag handles and brought them to the manned ticket counter to check them.

I did not check any bags. There is a large area as soon as you step into the passenger car where you can stow bags before you ascend a flight of stairs to the upper deck and claim a seat.

It can get tricky here. Some seats are marked reserved, and in my case, I got on after the train started in Chicago. Some seats were already taken and could usually be seen by a bag or jacket if the passenger was up and away from their seat. But sometimes people were up walking around or grabbing a breath of fresh air or a smoke outside. I’ve seen folks sit down only to have to move if they weren’t paying attention.

Shelby, Montana

The train whistle blows, the train pulls out of the station and this scene gets repeated at every stop along the route. The train keeps on going down the tracks and the passengers boarding in the middle of the night negotiate the seating process in the dark.

If you are in coach, you have one seat. If no one is next to you, you can stretch out a bit, but if you have another passenger next to you, you might be a bit cramped, especially when trying to sleep. And you will have to sleep at some point as 36 hours is a lot of time to sit in one spot awake!

In my case, I got on pretty late at night. The lights were turned way down and I did stretch out and get some sleep as I had the entire pair of seats to myself. The bathrooms were downstairs when you boarded the train, so if you needed to do any of that business, you had a flight of stairs to negotiate.

View from the lounge car in the Cascade Mountains

During the daylight hours, the country whizzes by. Hour upon hour will see many changes in landscape. On the Empire Builder, you’ll cross the plains and wheat fields of North Dakota and Montana. In Western Montana, the mountains will appear. There are large tunnels. Then the Palouse of Eastern Washington before crossing the Cascade Mountain range. The train pulls in to Seattle and Puget Sound is nearby.

Puget Sound

I’ve seen a lot of wildlife along the way. Deer and antelope, hawks and eagles, coyote and small animals. As I’ve taken this route in both Summer and Winter, the scenery is fantastic in either while climbing and descending through the Northern Rockies and the Cascades.

You can walk along from car to car of the train. As the train sways back and forth and to and fro, you have to have some balance. The elderly or someone with a cane had a hard time. Handicapped seating is available on the bottom floor of each passenger car.

The Rocky Mountains in Montana as seen from the train

One of the places to walk to was the scenic or lounge car. This car had a seating area like a lounge, with some seats together, some facing each other and even a couple like a living room sofa. People sat in this well lit space and read, listened to their iPods, used the computer, engaged in conversation or gazed out the large windows at the scenery as the train sped through the countryside at 69 miles per hour.

Downstairs in this scenic car was a snack bar that served food, snacks and beverages. The prices were higher than a restaurant, but less than a major league baseball game. There were places to sit down below in the snack bar, but many people took their food upstairs and ate in the seating portion of the lounge car, or even back to their coach passenger seats.

There was also a dining car where you could sit down, order a meal and be served, all while riding the rails steadily to your destination. I like the dining car early in the morning. They start serving breakfast around 5:30 AM. The coffee, a tart hot black affair, is served in china cups and was adequate for my taste. I’d usually order the regular standard bacon and eggs with toast.

Lunch and dinner are available in the dining car as well. Dining times are announced through a public address system that broadcasts in all the cars. The dinnertimes are reservation. A steward comes to each car and signs you up for a place at a table at a specified time.

In the dining car, you wait at one end of the car when you walk in. A steward seats you. You may see many empty booths, but the steward will place you with others. In the dining car, they fill every seat. Each booth holds four people. You will sit with a stranger or strangers if you are traveling alone.

I have never not had an interesting lively conversation while having a meal on the rails in the dining car. I’ve also had some small world experiences and have met people that knew a place or a name from my home town or a place I have visited before.

After dinner, back to the scenic car or my seat for some relaxation. At a stop, I might get out and stretch my legs, grab some fresh air and just watch the hustle and bustle of the station platform. There are bathrooms in the depots of the larger stations and the usual array of vending machines. Many people will smoke at the longer stops.

Personally, I like the train experience. If you’re not in a hurry, it may be an option for you. At this time, there are no inspections of your bags or your person like the airlines have, and certainly no one will grope you. That might be the turn off for you, who knows??!!

I have some traveling coming up soon but it will involve travel by car. Although there is talk in the Spadoville household about taking a train named The City of New Orleans from Chicago to, you guessed it, New Orleans, for a few days of chicory coffee, beignets, muffaletta, jambalaya, po’ boys and gumbo. Not at the same seating of course.

Illinois Central City of New Orleans back in the day

With the world changing rapidly and the economy faltering here in the US, many train routes have been cancelled. Rails have been torn up and competition for business is non existent. Amtrak is publicly operated and extremely under funded. The equipment, once sparkling stainless steel, is dull to the finish and maintenance struggles to keep up with demand for door knobs, light bulbs and services.

It’s a shame that options for travel are so limited, and the option of flying carries so many ever changing restrictions it seems impossible to know who will charge you for what. Baggage fees, carryon luggage limits, liquid allowed, packaging requirements and the highly controversial screening policies.

For me, I usually drive to where I’m going. My second choice is always the train. I prefer to never fly again in my life, but would if I had to. Have you been on a train in America? How about the country where you live? What’s it like in other places around the world?

Thanks for letting me take you along for the ride.

Peace

2011-10-23T00:30:00.000-07:00

Here is your personal invitation:

Los Dias de los Muertos

This years “Days of the Dead” Celebration will take place:

Tuesday November 1, 2011

523 E. Johnson Street

River Falls, WI 54022

Come anytime around 6 p.m. or so

Bring a dish to pass if you would like

Traditionally, “Los Dias” are a time when the Spirits of those departed from our lives are thought to pass through the realms and visit us

We await them with comforts from when they were still among us

Feel free to bring something and a picture of someone you’d like to have pay us a visit, we’ll put it on the Ofrenda

We’ll eat and drink and talk into the night with old and new friends, and invite these souls here to join us for the evening,

in Spirit
Hope to see you there

Shadows in Fog

2011-10-22T15:55:00.000-07:00

Shadow Shot Sunday
October 23, 2011

Every Sunday, folks from all around the world post their shadow shots. See more and find out how you can participate at Hey Harriet's Photography

The morning fog never did burn off completely this particular day. With sunshine all around, College Cove near Trinidad, California remained shrouded in fog and shadows.

This beach is a place I visit often when I am in Northern California. It features large sand hills, blow holes, rocky outcroppings and plenty of rock hunting, all in a rain forest-like atmosphere. Agates abound along with many other colors and varieties of round edged stones. A great place to hike, climb and surf. A true jewel of a beach on the Pacific Ocean.

Enjoy your day today as you wander through the blogs looking at Shadows.

Peace

Random Thoughts from Spadoville

2011-10-22T04:27:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: This post has absolutely nothing to do with Veterans or Vietnam

Here it is, Saturday already. This week has just flown by. Glad of that as last week I was down for the count. This week, I feel much better, but being older seems to make it take much longer to feel 100%, but I’m getting there.

The roofers are here this weekend. They started yesterday, they’ll finish today. I opted for a local contractor to do the work. I did get four different estimates. All of them were in the same general price range except one. He was over a thousand dollars higher than everyone else!

Two of the other three did business in my town, and one has an office here, but neither hire their work crew from the local work force. I decided to go with the local contractor that hires local labor. When I pay them, the money goes right back into my community and not taken away to Minneapolis.

The weather is calm and bright, cooler now than it has been. Everything slowly melting into Fall and getting us ready for Winter. The heavier coats and jackets have come out. I found those screws I was looking for in my jacket pocket. I guess that’s what I was wearing when I removed the screws from my motorcycle windshield.

The temperature must have warmed up and I placed the jacket on a hook in the garage. When frost was on the pumpkin, I reached for the jacket and found those screws. I put them in one of the jars on the workbench with the other hodge podge of unused hardware.

The World Series is on TV. No game last night. Mrs. Spadoman and I watched Gran Torino, Clint Eastwood’s acting swan song. I love that movie on so many levels. Have you seen it. What did you think? Sure, there was some violence, but not your typical murder, cops and robbers and stuff. This movie shows us that we are all one people. I’ll gladly explain via e-mail if you care to carry on a conversation about it.

This morning, I’ll be calling an old friend and we’ll arrange to meet for a cup of coffee so we can visit a little and catch up on each other’s life. I haven’t seen Dave in a while. I look forward to getting together.

That’s about it. A simple life right now. I love it when I don’t have any of other people’s baggage hanging around my neck. I know I never should, but it is inevitable at times. But today I am free of it. And not only do I not have to crawl around on my hands and knees to replace our old worn roof, I don’t even have to watch them work.

Peace

Stone Beings

2011-10-21T03:17:00.000-07:00

Haiku My Heart
October 21, 2011

Every Friday, people from all over the world join in and post their haiku. Stop by at Rebecca’s recuerda mi corazon to see more and find out how to participate.

Strong pillar aloft

Carved by water, etched by wind

Silent stone being

Arches National Park, Utah. One of the many natural wonders of the world. There are more than seven you know. I was looking through some photos from a trip out West we took in 2009. I came across these shots.

I remember wandering through the park and stopping to walk amongst all the giant monoliths and arches of rock. It fascinated me then, and it does now to gaze upon them again in pictures.

My wanderlust overtakes me at times. And now, as I am just a couple of weeks away from going back to New Mexico, I am thinking of trips I must take and places I must visit while I am down there.

I am planning a vacation from where I take vacation.

Peace

A Piece of My Life

2011-10-19T05:13:00.000-07:00

In the Winter of 2009, I was offered a program through the VA to help me with some things I was struggling with. It took place at a Department of Veterans Affairs facility near Cleveland, Ohio. I did write a short piece mentioning that I would be away in Cleveland. Not sure I ever posted this story about that trip. If I did, sorry to waste your time. If I didn’t, well, here it is:

The trip to Cleveland from Minneapolis is about 750 miles or so. I could have driven this distance in a long day on the Interstate Highway System. I have many times before taken such a trip or covered such a distance in a day. This time I settled for another type of conveyance. I used Amtrak.

Train travel is unique to this era for many. In fact there were many people who were overheard talking about this trip being their first time on a train. I have used Amtrak before this. I would travel by train often in the 1990’s. Before that, the occasional local trip, but I had never experienced the travel style of the twentieth century train trip when train travel was in its heyday. I’d never ridden on the Orient Express but wish I had.

I booked on line and printed out a bar code. I took the bar code to the station and held it under a reader and my tickets were printed out immediately. I showed them when I boarded the train and that was it. No check in. No contact with a human being. No metal detector. I guess if the contraption won’t fall from the sky when it crashes from the explosion of a bomb it’s okay to carry more than three drops of sun tan lotion and a gun. Also, since it’s on tracks, you can’t steer it away from where it’s headed.

I got a call the night before I was to board the Empire Builder. Empire Builder is the name of the train that runs on the route from Chicago to Portland and Seattle. It passes through Minneapolis on the trip back to Chicago from the West coast. The phone call told me that the train was late, but to be at the station at the correct time and not wait until the internet web site says the train is suppose to arrive.

This particular train this day was 22 hours behind schedule. Some huge snow storm in the Cascade mountains had put the train behind by almost a full day.

I was to show up when the original ticket specified. Amtrak provided a through bus, actually two of them, to take the Minneapolis passengers directly to Chicago. So my train trip was a bus ride. We left on time and arrived in Chicago, at Union Station, a full hour before the scheduled train would have arrived.

I laid over in Chicago for almost seven hours before the Lake Shore Limited left Chicago headed for New York and Boston. I was getting off at Cleveland and due to arrive a little after six o’clock in the morning.

That train left on time and pulled into Cleveland on time. I slept pretty much right up to the time I had to get off. A friend, someone I had met on The Longest Walk the year before who lives in the Cleveland area, picked me up on that Monday morning. I was traveling light. A small backpack and one duffle suitcase. The Cleveland station was small and compact and it was easy to make the connection with my friend Jen.

We left the parking lot and set out to find a coffee shop to have a cup and visit a little before she’d drop me off about fifteen miles south of downtown Cleveland at the VA facility in Brecksville, OH. Traffic was of little consequence as we headed in the opposite direction of rush hour. We found a Starbucks and went in and caught up on what had been happening in our lives since we last crossed paths in Washington DC the previous July.

Jen knew where Brecksville was and we drove directly there after the coffee. The VA hospital and grounds there is a huge complex right on the main highway, and after I had her drive around looking for a suitable building to drop me off in front of, I got out and started my next adventure which would turn out to be a 37 day stay in ward 24B attending and participating in an in-patient program designed to help me overcome some problems I was having a hard time dealing with.

The typical VA bureaucracy was in full force and I stumbled through the admission process following orders and answering the repeated questions. The first day was an easy one. Get checked in, drug screened, searched and orientated to my new surroundings, then sit and wait. I first came familiar with “Hurry up and wait” in April of 1968 when I was involuntarily inducted into the Army via the draft. Little has changed in the process and span of 40-plus years, only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

I was restricted to the ward until I was properly orientated to the protocol of this facility and that meant no leaving without permission and waiting for the meal trolly to bring me a tray instead of joining other ~~inmates~~, I mean patients, at the dining hall. The protocol sheet of rules and regulations would be read and I would sign my agreement with the terms that evening. By the start of the second day there, I had full rights to leave the ward and go anywhere in the nine building complex and on the many acres of the campus of the Louis Stokes Department of Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Brecksville, Ohio.

The day shift was in place when I arrived. The evening shift took over around four PM, and the overnight shift woke me up in the morning. The day shift returned, but due to budget cutbacks and short staffing of all the programs at Brecksville and throughout the entire VA system, the staffers worked different shifts and one who might have been there one time during the day would do an overnight later in the same week.

These ward staffers had nothing whatsoever to do with why I was there or the program I was going to attend. This was just the ward staff who were in control of order in the living situation end of the stay. The staff for the program was in place on another floor where the group meeting rooms, classrooms and offices were. Dorm life, as it were, on the ward was not to my liking in any way shape or form. The VA allowed an atmosphere of humiliation and control, much like a penitentiary.

You were accused of wrong doing and guilty unless proven otherwise. My wife mailed me a package soon after I arrived. I had asked for some hot sauce to spice up the daily cafeteria offerings and some nuts to have around to snack on. I wanted a few more short sleeved t-shirts as the heat was cranked up in that place like you wouldn’t believe. Sundry stuff that I didn’t carry with me on the train. This parcel had to be opened and the contents inspected by the staff. They told me they were looking for contraband, but never explained or offered a list of what they considered contraband.

My personal belongings were searched when I got there. I had to turn in the prescriptions that the VA had given me and received a fresh seven day supply of the same drugs I was prescribed from the pharmacy there. I had to turn in my pocket knife, the very tool I used to cut up oranges and apples and remove stubborn labels off the skin of said fruit. I didn’t bring a cell phone, but that would have been confiscated too, along with any lap top computer or music generating device like a walkman or MP3 iPod player and its headphones.

I was given a key to a lock on one drawer of a night stand. All my meds were to be put in this drawer and random checks to see if the drawer is locked were made. The pills given to me by this facility would be randomly called for, and I would have to show them the bottle and the number of pills counted to make sure I was taking them and not selling them.

“Hey man, I got some nitroglycerin, man. Dude, this stuff will give you a headache but it goes away after you’ve used it regularly for 20 years. Only five bucks a hit, man.”

I was not allowed to have things out of my locker or on top of any furniture which was my locker and said night stand. I had to have my bed made by eight AM. No signs or pictures could be posted or taped to the walls. There would be random room checks by drug sniffing dogs handled by the police from the host city of Brecksville, Ohio. Staff could call a search of your personal property at any time for any reason and you have to succumb to a urine test before using the latrine if your name was posted to give, or drop as it is said in the vernacular, a specimen. Refusal of any of these rules meant removal from the program.

Each staff member had their own way of dealing with their responsibility of upholding the law. Like prison, the guards, or ward clerks, were of different demeanor and personality. Some drew the hard line and shouted orders, others had snappy voices and spoke down to the program attendees. Others were mellow and easy going and turned the other way instead of being bothered with counting your pills or making sure you weren’t hanging a picture of your Grand kids on your bed rail.

One in particular was a man we’ll call Tom. Tom was a military retiree. He was in his 40’s. Had already served 20 plus years in the Navy and was on his second career. He looked for rule violations and even when he couldn’t find any, he’d recite the rule to you anyway. He was a real asshole. I got along with him, but made no pretense about the fact that his humiliating manner held me from having any respect for him as a human being at all.

Once, when returning from a town pass on a Saturday evening, there was no request for me to drop a urine sample. Tom was so distraught that I was coming back from town and didn’t have to be tested for drug and alcohol use, he went into a frenzy trying to figure out what was wrong with the system. For surely, in his eyes, I had used and was getting away with it by not having to produce the sample. The next day, Sunday, when I returned from a day pass to go see a movie with friends, he made sure I had to be sampled. We are allowed up to four hours after returning from town to produce the sample. I made him wait until nearly one AM, with him seeking me out multiple times per hour to ask if I was ready, to piss in his cup. Of course I accused him of selling my “clean” stuff to his drug using friends and I insisted on a percentage of the take. He didn’t think I was funny at all.

Another staff person was someone we’ll call Yvette. Yvette was laid back and easy going. You lived and caused no trouble, Yvette left you alone. She never looked for wrong, was polite and respectful to everyone, all of the time. If she was on staff when you came back from a day pass and you were to leave a specimen, she’d put the plastic bag with the sample jar on the counter and when you brought it back, she’d present a tray and ask you to place the sample on it.

My bed was horrible. Not an old army bunk, but a bed with a plastic covered mattress that was hard as a rock. I was given one pillow and it was a small soft pillow at that. I asked one staffer for a second pillow. He told me, “Good luck with that, we don’t have extra pillows.” The next day, I asked another staffer for a second pillow. She asked me what room I was in and what the bed number was. She not only got me another pillow, but she put a case on it, brought it to my room, fluffed it up and placed it on my bed. Sure was a difference in the ward clerk staff. From the ridiculous to the sublime was but a short leap.

On a very personal level, I wondered what I was doing this for. Why was I, at this stage of my life, going through this crap. I volunteered to be here. I asked for help and this is the program they offered. I could have packed up and left, and thought about doing just that, several times. Even though it felt like incarceration, I knew I was free to call a taxi or get on the 77F bus and leave Brecksville VA at any time.

The program itself that I was involved in was very good and helped me immensely with my problems. I met some great people and great staff, people that truly have dedicated their lives to helping people, helping Veterans, overcome certain problems.

I looked for the positive side of this entire experience and to my own surprise, I challenged myself to stick it out, despite what I felt were horrendous dormitory living conditions. I cited to myself that if I could complete the commitment and finish the program, I would be accomplishing something and that would help me in the long run with healing and growth. I actually made a pact with myself and didn’t complain or bitch about my living situation for the last three weeks I was there.

Epilogue: I participated in this program almost three years ago. I still use many of the tools I gathered there to keep me running on a steady keel. I did find the dorm conditions to be more like jail than a learning and help center, but never voiced my concern to the hierarchy of the Department of Veterans Affairs.

I did write about the City of Cleveland and the economy as I spent many days traveling through the city on their mass transit system. This information for this editorial writing was gathered while I lived at the VA in Brecksville, OH.

Monday Morning Report

2011-10-17T04:13:00.000-07:00

This bee was enjoying a meal on a beautiful Fall afternoon

Just want to report that I am feeling better than I was before the weekend. Thursday night, I was coughing pretty hard. I didn’t sleep too good and went to the urgent care at the VA on Friday. They checked me out and told me I had bronchitis. That didn’t surprise me. I’ve had it before and that’s what it felt like.

They took a chest xray and wouldn’t let me go until the results were in. They came and told me the xrays showed some pneumonia in my lungs. So, after six hours at the VA, I was sent home with antibiotics, an inhaler and some codeine laced cough syrup. I already had a fresh bottle of Tylenol

I spent the weekend in the EZ chair. The codeine is hard on me with my history of heart disease, so after one dose, I threw that away. Otherwise, I am feeling better, but still weak. I will spend at least one more day on the sofa. Especially since the weather is changing drastically now.

We have had a wonderful October up to this point. Warm, sunshine. But the winds have been ripping through for the past week and it is time to search the closets and the plastic tote bins and break out the Winter arsenal of coats, boots, hats, scarves and mittens.

The real harbinger that Winter is coming to this hemisphere is the fact that the World Series starts this week. I picked Milwaukee and Texas. Texas made it, but Milwaukee stumbled and it will be St. Louis versus Texas for this years Fall classic.

I don’t usually get too excited about football and hockey until after the World Series, but last night, the Chicago Bears played the Minnesota Vikings. I moved from Chicago in 1974 to Minnesota, but never switched allegiance to the Vikings. The Bears are not having a particualrly good season, so when the Bears beat the Vikings last night, (when anyone beats the Vikings), it is like winning the SuperBowl. And when we moved to Wisconsin, I couldn’t bring myself to cheer for the Packers either. I did, however, lose the Cubs and White Sox for the Brewers.

Strange is that I do like the Minnesota Wild hockey team, but that’s probably because there is no Wisconsin team in professional hockey.

So, you can tell that I spent a lot of time looking at TV over the weekend. I never searched for anything with any redeeming qualities like PBS or a great movie. If I could have tolerated the codeine, maybe my mind might be a little less gristled today.

I have started on a pair of snowshoes that someone ordered. I will attempt to take photos through the process of wood burning artwork onto the sides and the actual lacing. If anyone is interested in a pair of heirloom quality hand laced wooden snowshoes, let me know. I can also assemble a kit, complete with instructions, and you can make them yourself.

Lastly, I have been paying attention to the Occupy Wall Street reports from cities all around the world. Those that know me know where I stand. I am a 99% person and totally agree that things need to change. I just wonder who the rich think is going to spend any money if we don’t have any? Henry Ford paid a good wage so the workers could buy his product. I’m Occupying with them in spirit.

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

Peace