Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Summer Nemesis

There is one reason I like snow.  Like a woman covering blemishes with makeup, the snow covers the unsightly weeds in my yard. Snow is a blanket spread over unsightly weeds plus all the new seeds that will pop up in the spring time.  I know a yard needs a lot of attention and care but through the years, my yard has been neglected.  Dandelions, ivy, thistle and mysterious weeds flaunt their growing abilities in my yard!

I love spring and the revitalization of all things new. Everything turning green, crocuses popping up all over and tulips and irises make their appearance. Yes, I love spring until I look at my yard.  It's as if the weeds have doubled from the previous year. There is a small area in my front yard where I do have grass. I try to keep it watered, yet, my plans of landscaping, never seems to happen.  In my mind I can see how beautiful my yard could look but those dreams never seem to materialize!

Yesterday my neighbor spent over four hours pulling out weeds from a small section in her yard so she could plant some tomato plants. If it took her that long to pull weeds from a 36" x 24" plot I can't even imagine how long it would take me to get rid of weeds in my yard! I know that once I get started I can eliminate those weeds but it is just getting started!

My belief as to why I have so many different kinds of weeds in my yard is that when we first purchased the house was surrounded by dirt and clay. We panted grass and decided to feed the new lawn with manure from a local ranch. We obtained cow manure to spread over the lawn.  I figure that as the cattle ate grass and weeds, their manure was filled with weed seeds. When the weedy (and smelly) manure was spread all over our yard the weeds found a permanent home to multiply! 
I've noticed that dandelions are all over the neighborhood and not only in my yard.  In a way the yellow flower is pretty, that is, until the puffs send seeds flying into the air. Lately I have read how household products in our kitchens will work in killing weeds and save our earth by getting away from harmful pesticides. One I may try is a mixture of vinegar and water which is supposed to work.  Maybe one of these days I may try it!

"A weed is a plant that has mastered 
every survival skill except for learning
to grow in rows."  Doug Larson

Monday, May 27, 2013

Headed to Brookstone Again

I received a Wi-Fi Scanner Wand as a gift and was excited to use it. I would now be able to scan photographs making it so much easier than taking a photo of a photo.  Little did I know that it would take many miles, some frustration, purchasing cards, and special help to get it to work. It seems that I am learning about the scanner bit by bit.

Driving to Brookstone at Flatirons mall (the only one near me) I spoke with two young salesmen.  "Do you have a card?" They asked.  "No, I don't believe it needs one," I answered. "Yes, you do need a card," and they pointed to the information on the box, "stores images on micro SD card up to 32 GB (card required, not included).  Brookstone did not sell cards and it was suggested to go to Wal-Mart or Target.  I mentioned that the slot for the SD card was small and my computer did not have a slot that tiny.  "Oh, you will need an adapter also."

At Target I found a package with the SD card and two adapters. I hurried home to use my scanner wand. No matter how I tried to insert the SD card it went in at an angle. I tried following the instructions and after many attempts, I gave up.

Today, I drove to Brookstone again.  Luckily, I was helped by Eric, a cheerful and attentive young man. When he put the card into the wand it also went in at an angle.  Before long, I noticed he flipped it over and put it in what appeared to be upside down, yet, it worked. He struggled a bit to get the wand to scan but being young and electronic knowledgeable he was able to figure it out.  He had me give it a try and even though it worked for him I could not get it to work for me.

It was very frustrating yet he was patient and had me try it with more
 pressure, less pressure, slower then faster until I got it to work twice. He gave me his phone number and suggested I try scanning a photo at home and if it didn't work to call him and he would talk me through the process.

Isn't it strange that once something is understood, it becomes easy. The orangutan is my very first scanned picture.  Yippee!

"I hear and I forget,
I see and I remember,
I do and I understand." 


Can You Believe It's Been 75 years?

A welcome goodie bag
 On May 20, seventy-five years ago I entered this world.  My father said I had two large eyes and so skinny my arms were no bigger than his finger. He wondered if I would make it! Well, I did make it and soon I will celebrate my birthday.  From the 17th to the 20th of May I was in California with my daughter and her family. We enjoyed staying at the Marriott Newport Coast Villas and from our balcony we could see the sail boats on the ocean.

One of my gifts while in California was a memory book that my daughter prepared.  She somehow managed to get a hold of a high school friend, friends in Mexico and Denver, and family to write a few words about how they knew me.  I laughed and I cried as I read all the nice wishes and silly memories.

The thing about turning 75 is that the reality is that there aren't that many more years left to celebrate life. I have already lived more than half of my life and even if I reach 95, that is only 20 more years. I give thanks to God that I am healthy and only feel around 40! I always remember my father saying:  "My body may be old but my emotions are the same as when I was in my twenties." Of course, some mornings I feel as if sludge is running through my veins instead of blood, I seem to suffer from insomnia more often, and my bones, especially my knees, tend to ache and creak and I move at a slower pace. But, other than that, I seem to be doing all right.

Since "a picture is worth more than a thousand words" here are some of my photos of time spent in California.


We wish you a Happy Birthday

After returning home to Arvada, I had a birthday lunch with a friend at the Ameristar Casino in Blackhawk, and on the 25th my son took me to Los Arcos for a delicious Mexican dinner. While at Los Arcos, a table of clowns had just finished eating.  On their way out I was able to take a photo of Cuz, one of the clowns, and was surprised when I was brought a strawberry sundae with a candle. Maybe turning 75 isn't so bad after all.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Wizard of Oz Slot Machine

The Gamblers
Today, to celebrate my friend's birthday, we drove to Blackhawk to see how much money we could lose! She introduced me to a fun slot machine named The Wizard of Oz. The machine is a about nine feet tall with colored pictures of Dorothy, the cowardly lion, the tin man, and the scare crow.  It is a penny machine that gives you the option of playing from one cent to a dollar. The higher you bet the better your chances but even if you don't win, it is fun seeing red slippers, Toto, wicked witch of the West, flying monkeys, Glenda, and Emerald City.

The fun begins when three emerald cities appear with a loud noise. You are asked to touch one of the three pictures.  Depending on the picture you pick the machine goes crazy with bells, calliope music, and the voice of the wizard telling you to look up at the picture of the four friends skipping down the yellow brick road. At this point, if you are playing a dollar, you have a good chance to win big.  As if that is not enough, you get some eight free spins and another chance to win more points. When Glenda, Oz, winged monkey, Emerald City, or a screen full of emerald jewels appear, you get more chances to win more money.

My friend won about $152 but ended spending it down.  I left with  $30 after reducing it from around $80, yet, it was fun touching the red slippers or the emeralds to make the machine keep going through many cycles of fun! Oh, if only I could walk away! When Glenda, the good witch, appears your body feels it because the gaming chair is equipped with surround sound and the noise is magnified causing you to feel it in your body and hear it loudly in your ears.

The Screen letting you know if you won or not!
The Wizard

For lunch we ate at the Ameristar Casino because they have a large buffet plus a large variety of desserts.  We had planned to return home after lunch but instead ended up playing a few more games. This time I was not so lucky! In a few days it will be my birthday and I hope we will return to celebrate by playing the Wizard of Oz slot machine again!

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Happy Mother's Day

My Mother

Mom before I knew her!
Tomorrow will be a sad day for me.  Every Mother's Day leaves me feeling as if I lost something that can't be found. Forty-one years ago my Mother passed away leaving an empty spot in my heart.  I have read that "time takes care of everything," yet, not a day goes by that she doesn't cross my mind. When I see friends with their mothers, I get a pang of envy. I wonder if they know how lucky they are to have their Mothers. My Mother left us way too early at age 58. Cancer from her breast moved to her lungs in less than five years.

My ritual of taking flowers to the cemetery every Mother's Day continues.  I mentally catch her up and what has happened in the past year.  I remember her love of flowers. Giving her a gift was easy because every Mother's Day I would give her flowers to plant in her yard. The year that she died, her yard was covered in color.  My Dad was looking out the back window and said, "Ramona, come and see the yard.  There are flowers everywhere!" I can still picture her in bed as she whispered, "Not right now, I will get up later to see them." She never saw her beautiful yard because she left us that night.

On Mother's Day I miss her more than usual.  I miss our talks and I miss how she interacted with my children. When I think that this year she would have been ninety-eight years old  I know I am being unrealistic.  My memories of my Mom are deep in my heart.  Even though we never said we loved each other, I know that the love was there.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Guilty or Not Guilty

  "The dead cannot cry out for justice.
It is the duty of the living to do so for them."
Lois McMaster Bujold

Two cases have grabbed my attention on television. One was the Casey Anthony trial and currently it is the Jody Arias trial.  Of course, all I know is what's on television and HLN makes sure to keep everyone informed by running the hearings, speculations, ideas, theories and opinions continuously on television.

The Casey Anthony trial left me with a feeling of disbelief.  I believed that when one swore on the Bible, that  the truth would be spoken.  After watching the trial I found out that people do not tell the truth, even if they swear on the Bible.  I was very disappointed when Casey Anthony was released from jail because I thought all of the facts pointed to Casey Anthony being guilty.  I realized that if one has a lawyer who is a good showman, is outrageous in presenting the case, or looks good, he or she will have a better chance of winning. It surprised me that  facts can be manipulated.

Travis Alexander & Jody Arias
I did not pay any attention to the Jody Arias trial in January when it began. One day as I flipped through channels I saw Jody on the stand testifying.  I watched and she seemed very sure of herself as she bantered with the prosecuting attorney, Juan Martinez. A friend of mine who watched daily believed that Jody Arias would get off.  She told me that Jody had "snapped" after being used and rejected by her boy friend, Travis Alexander, and that was what caused Jody to kill him. Her attorney claimed that Jody was abused physically and sexually by Travis  My friend believed that Travis had used Jody and then tossed her aside. This angered Jody and my friend's theory was that Jody should not be found guilty because Travis had demeaned and put her down. She believed that Jody was a woman who fell under the battered woman syndrome.

I couldn't help but think that my friend should never sit on a jury because she makes up her mind before hearing all the facts. I did not agree with my friend.  In my past, I had worked in Family Law with battered women and I did not think Jody fit the pattern of a battered women. Her attitude did not strike me of someone who had been abused.  When I heard the expert on domestic violence, I did not agree with many of the things she said.  Every woman I know that has been in a relationship could be considered a battered woman by that expert's opinion. Women have suffered rejection or are scorned by loved ones, yet they do not go out and murder. They move on. It seemed that the defense witness would say nothing good about Travis and only good things about Jody.

It was difficult to believe anything Jody said after seeing the many lies she told police, investigators, and news correspondents.  She was very good at expressing herself in a soft, sweet voice.  I could see how she could win people over, especially men. She seemed extremely intelligent and had a tremendous memory.

It gave me a feeling of satisfaction when I heard talk shows making the same comments that I was thinking.
As the hearing continued, I waited and watched to see what other facts would come out. I did not like the defense or the prosecuting attorneys. I did not care for the aggressive and bullying style that Juan Martinez used.  I kept thinking if I heard the word "right," yelled at a witness one more time, I would scream. The defense attorney seemed so slow and meandering that I wanted to yell, "Get to the point!"
Juan Martinez

Kirk Nermi
Jennifer Willmott

Martinez argument made sense to me but he seemed to harp on things that weren't important. He is described as a bull dog, latching on to an idea and never wanting to let it go.  Kirk Nermi seemed to enjoy dwelling on the sexual content. Jennifer Willmott seemed to be the only even-keeled attorney. Back and forth the arguments went and so did my thoughts.  Before long I began to lean toward premeditated murder.  How could it have been self-defense? Her stabbing him numerous times, slicing his neck from ear to ear and shooting him made me believe it was more than self-defense. What could he have done to make her react in such a violent manner? Abused women try to get away not stay and fight the abuser. Why didn't she run away if she was afraid for her life. He was in the shower and naked and he would not have followed. It made sense to me he was the one trying to get away down the bloody hall.

I do not believe a battered woman would have driven to see her batterer and if it was self-defense, where did the she get the weapons.  His close friends were saying Travis never owned a gun and the weapon used was a 25 mil just like the one stolen from Jody's grandparents home made it sound too coincidental. If she was afraid of him why would she drive from California to Arizona to see him? Could sex have been so great with him? Did she want him to change his mind? Did she think she could convince him with one more roll in the hay? Nermi tried to make it sound as if Travis was a sexual deviant but in the recordings played, Jody sounded as if she enjoyed sex as much as he did.

In listening to Travis Alexander's friends talk about him, Travis sounded like a good person. To me he was like any other man his age, horny as hell!   Jody, on the other hand, came off as a conniving liar, showoff and a manipulator.  It seemed as if she had no feelings.

The jury got the case on Friday afternoon, May 3, 2013, and fifteen hours later they had a verdict. Guilty. If the verdict had come in "not guilty" I would have lost any respect I have for our court system. When Jody heard the word guilty, I wondered what was going through her mind.  She certainly did not look frightened. Her chin quivered a bit but I wondered if it was because the jury, in her mind, did not like her!

The Jody Arias trial is nearing an end. I do not believe in the death penalty so I hope she is put away for a long time.  Hearings are not yet finished because there are two more phases to go through. One to prove that the killing was cruel and then the sentencing. A few minutes after court ended, it was reported she was giving a news conference. Then court was cancelled because Jody was placed in a psychiatric ward and she was on suicide watch.  Will the drama never end for Jody Arias?

"Ladies who play with fire 
must remember that smoke 
gets in their eyes."
Mae West 

Note: All pictures are from the Internet.


Wednesday, May 8, 2013

My Daughter

First works of an artist!
For two days I have been going through old photographs, poetry I have written, newspaper articles and I happened to find six folded sheets of 8 1/2 x 11 papers with special memories. Whatever I had written ten years ago was not complete, yet I thought my blog would be the perfect place to put those memories.

The writing begins with "attentive to her and I thank God that I found out what she needed." I must have been writing about when I realized I could not figure out why my four year old daughter had made it a ritual to cling, cry and whine every time I rushed home from work, started to prepare dinner and got ready to go to evening school. Luckily, I happened to be taking a psychology class at Regis College and when I brought up the fact that my four year old daughter was very needy, it was suggested:  "If you are cooking, turn off the stove. Stop whatever you are doing. Pick her up, hold her, touch her, tickle her, squeeze her, hug her and tell her you love her."  I followed the instructions, thinking it would not work and was surprised when she went off to play and no longer clung to me.

My life was dedicated to my children.  I worked for them, was going to college for a degree and a better job.  I assumed they knew I loved them.  I found out that children need to feel loved by being touched, hugged, kissed and cuddled.  Once she found out I loved her, she was able to stop her clinging.  If I hadn't found out what she needed, I don't think I would have had the daughter she turned out to be!

Kindergarten was painful for me and for her.  Even though she had attended Wooden Shoe, a pre-school, seeing her walking to school seemed as if my child was leaving me.  The first step of growing up is just as traumatic for a parent as it is for the child!  She did not want me to take her to school because she and Timmy, her neighborhood friend, were going to walk.  I took her on a couple of dry runs to show her the way to school.  On the first day of school, the two, tiny children held hands and walked off to school.  I secretly followed, hiding behind bushes and trees to make sure they arrived safely.

Puerto Vallarta
In the sixth grade, she went away to Out Door Lab.  She would be gone for one week and I felt such sadness as I packed her clothes.  One whole week!  Arriving at school, the buses were ready to take the children, and I noticed all the children were hugging and kissing their parents.  Some were crying.  I moved to hug my daughter and she shook her head.  We just waved at each other.  On her return, I was so happy to see her and rushed up to her, ready to throw my arms around her and she whispered, "Don't hug me." I was hurt.  I could not understand why she did not show any emotion.  She told me about Out Door Lab on the way home but what I wanted to know was why she didn't want me to hug her.  At home I hugged and kissed her yet in public she did not want or need the hugs.  Years later, she may have been a junior in high school, after one of the games, she ran up to me and threw her arms around me.  I cried, not so much because they had won their game, but because she was finally giving me something I had missed since the 6th grade.  A public hug!

Tom Sawyer was the annual 7th grade operetta.  She announced to me that she would try out for Becky.  I tried to discourage her and said, "Don't pick the main character.  Pick a smaller part and then you will get it for sure.  When you try for the main part there will be many others trying out for that part and you will be disappointed if you don't get it." My main thought was that she not get hurt.  I wanted to protect her and keep her from feeling the pain of disappointment.  She did not get the part of Becky, but got the role of Aunt Polly.  There were more speaking lines, and Barbie was thrilled with the part.  I sat in the audience with a knot in my throat for fear she would forget her many lines.  She surprised me by being an excellent Aunt Polly. I am so glad she did not listen to me!

After that, I learned that my fears were not her fears.  When I was in school, the best and most popular girls tried out for cheer leading.  I suggested to Barb to go out to be a cheer leader and she looked at me and said, "Mom, why would I want to cheer for anybody. I want them to cheer for me!"

Somehow, she acquired good learning skills.  I never had to get her to do her homework because she seemed to enjoy working on school projects.  When she missed getting a 4.0, I spoke with her teacher and tried to get him to change her grade. I explained how hard she worked on assignments but he still did not change her grade. Even though I was disappointed, Barb never seemed to get discouraged. "Next semester, I will just have to try harder," she told me. I was very proud of my nine year old daughter.

Barb with Chico at Lake Powell

I  loved watching her play volleyball and seeing how she could set the ball so the spikers could get to it.  I also admired her self-confidence and her knowledge of her capabilities.  In tenth grade her coach picked another setter for the team.  Barb said, "I'm better than she is, but he was her coach in the 9th grade and I'm sure that's why he picked her." After that, she would hit the ball up against the house, as she practiced.  I'd hear the ball thumping up against the house over and over again.  I wanted to tell her to forget the sport, to try out for another sport where she would be valued, but I kept my mouth shut.  After a few months,  the coach realized she was better than the girl he had picked and Barb became the setter for the team.

She paid for her college tuition with two scholarships for Volleyball and Tennis. Once I commented that she should get a job to help pay for those extra things she needed. Her reply was: "I have a job. When I get up at 4:30 in the morning to get to practice, when I stay late practicing, and then having to be at all the games, that is my job!" I realized she was so right and I never asked her to help with expenses again.

I tried to attend every game Barb played. She was athletic and played soccer, tennis, basketball and volleyball. I sat on many a hard bleacher, cheering for her and her team!  I took photo after photo to fill album after album of all the games she played in Colorado, New Mexico, Kansas and Wyoming.  I  did not travel to Alaska but when she left for that game, every pocket, every sock, every sleeve and every pant leg had a short affirmative message from me.  Joy filled me when they won and I felt bad when they lost.

Graduation from college was a big thing for my family.  She was the first in our family to graduate from college.  I had come close, lacking a few hours for my degree but earning a salary took priority for me.  Sitting in the Regis College Field House, I was very proud of my daughter as she marched up to the podium to receive her diploma.
In Guatemala
Cozumel fun!
Her next move was joining the Peace Corps.  I missed her so much when she left even though I should have been used to her being gone.  She had lived in an apartment with a roommate while in college, yet, that did not prepare me for having her leave to a foreign country.  I lived for her letters, her phone calls and sometimes her recordings.  In 1989 I visited her in Guatemala and the time I spent with her was wonderful for me.  I had her for 24 hours a day for two whole weeks.  I remember eating popcorn and sliced fresh, juicy pineapple. She lived in a small house and her plan was to sleep on the floor while she let me use her bed.  On the first night, after hearing scampering of tiny feet, she ended in bed with me.  We shared everything, even a cough.  I learned about the solid candy Robitussin that worked wonders on a cough.  I met her friends.  We walked to a volley ball game to meet Eric Hallman, a handsome young man with greenish eyes. 

Even though my luggage was lost for three days, my visit to Huehuetenango where she was stationed was a

learning experience for me.  Her Peace Corps friends were fun and interesting.  The trips to Antigua and Lake Azatlan gave me a different perspective of what she was doing in Guatemala. I saw the differences between those that have and those that have not . Traveling in rusty, beat up old buses, eating at friends' houses, seeing the tennis Club, watching her ride her bike for transportation, walking through the colorful countryside to her school, seeing her teach children, shopping in the mercado, seeing the indigenous dressed in bright, colorful clothing, her living alone in a foreign country, and being warned not to go into certain areas because the military could shoot us were eye-openers for me.

She went from Barbie, to Barb and then to Barbara as she grew. The love that began in Guatemala culminated with Eric proposing to Barb on a Boulder trail in Colorado.  They were married at the Shrine of St. Anne in Arvada on June 29, 1991. A horse and carriage took them to the reception. The cake was decorated with two love birds on a soccer net.  When a reception was held in California for them, I hand-carried the top layer of their wedding cake when I flew to Orange County.

My granddaughter was born on March 27, 1997 and there was a special bond between the sweet, gentle girl and me.  I watched Barb and Eric learning to be parents.  They read baby books to make sure they were doing everything right. Once when they trimmed the baby's finger nail too short, I heard her cry of pain and I also felt pain.  When she cried, they would take her into the bathroom and turn on the fan because it seemed to soothe her.  When Barb placed the tiny baby on the doughnut pillow to breast feed her, I thought it looked awkward. I also knew that the two new parents would have to learn their own way of raising their little baby.  She was never messy, and when she ate, she picked up her Cheerios one at a time.  She loved playing dress-up in a pink tutu. 

A different hairdo
On May 12, 1999, their second child was born.  I was not around at the very beginning, but I could see that Barb and Eric had more experience in what to do.  The baby had eyes that were a chocolate color.  She was a lover.  She loved to crawl into arms and cuddle.  She was a tender, loving and sensitive.  She could hold her own against her older sister.  She seemed to be more of a tom-boy than her sister. She went through the terrible twos, showing everyone how strong her lungs could be and had a mind of her own.  She tested every one's will and seemed to have a stubborn streak.  She was like two different children -- one loving to hug and kiss and one taking off on her own. Once at the mall she ran off, never once looking back to see if we were following. When she settled into who she would become she was thoughtful and caring.  I would say that it was the patience of her parents that turned her into such a loving child.

Barbara is busy.  She is an artist.  I have some of her work hanging in my house. She does beautiful work with gourds. She writes and sings her own songs.  She plays the guitar.  She's on a soccer team.  She is a teacher.  She loves to paint murals.  She runs and works out. She loves animals. I love how she and Eric are raising the girls with love and patience.  Both girls are good students. On their 10th wedding anniversary, I babysat with the girls while Barb and Eric went to Yellowstone National Park to bike, hike and river raft.  Barb has a picture of when she fell off the raft and into the tumultuous river.  She laughs at the picture where she completely disappears from sight under the foaming water, but the picture proves to me that our lives are but moments on this earth.

I try to visit my daughter every chance I can.  I always enjoy chatting with her.  I look at her and find it hard to believe that this is my baby.  The love I have for her is magnified when I see her interact with her husband and two daughters!

One of my favorite sayings to my daughter is:  When I grow up I want to be just like you!

(I am glad I found this piece written around ten years ago. I've added a few memories but tried to keep the original as I found it. I relived and enjoyed remembering those moments I have spent with my daughter.)

Mom and Daughter (2012)

Monday, May 6, 2013

Drive Throughs

Jay Leno is a master at poking fun at how lazy Americans are getting. I know comedians exaggerate so I take his kidding with a grain of salt. That is, until today when I started my day at Starbucks with a hot Chai. I drove up to the window, placed my order, paid and was off to do my errands for the day.

The post office was my first stop.  I drove up to the four mail boxes and dropped off my mail. Payment for my water bill took a few seconds and I did not have to leave my car. I took some clothing to the thrift store and sat in my car while two men emptied my trunk. I had two books to return to the library and drove by the outside drop off and dropped the books into the bin. Off to my credit union to withdraw some money. I opened the small plastic door on a long tube, placed my request and driver's license inside the tube, pushed a button and my information was swooshed away.  Before long, I received my money through the same tube.  I drove away and headed to the drugstore where I was to pick up my prescription.  After giving the pharmacist the information she needed, I waited in my car until she handed me a white package with my medicine through the pick up window.

I had spent most of the morning driving from one drive through to another and pulling up to an Arby's drive through I ordered a Reuben Sandwich, fries and a drink.  Driving to a nearby park I sat in my car and ate my lunch.  When my phone rang, I sat in my car and talked using the speakers of my car.  If anyone had been watching me they would have sworn I was a crazy lady talking to herself!

Heading to the laundry, I drove up and handed off my cotton blouses, that I refuse to iron, through the drive up window. Stopped off at the liquor store to buy a bottle of wine to give as a gift and I didn't even have to leave my car since I knew the name of the wine.  The Merlot was delivered to my car window! Arriving home I parked my car, entered the house, and after my busy morning, I was tired.  I sat down to watch television.  From my couch with my feet propped up, the only movement was my finger pressing the remote buttons.  After about an hour I decided it was time to move around and clean house, do the dishes, vacuum, but when I passed my computer, I sat down and began writing my blog. My blog for the day is about how I keep gaining weight and I can't figure out why!

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Did the Sign of the Cross Help?

The tradition is that the first Saturday in May is chosen for the Kentucky Derby. A parade of beautiful, graceful, light footed horses, pranced across the television screen. Some of the horses were favorites with great odds. The hats the women wore rivaled any hats worn in England! The Mint Juleps looked delicious. As the horses took their last walk around, I noticed that one jockey made a sign of the cross and then with his hand seemed to extend the sign of the cross to his horse. The jockey ran his hand down from the horse's ear and along its crest.

I thought:  If everyone prayed for protection or to win by making the sign of the cross, everyone would be doing it. Who wouldn't want to have God on their side? Did the jockey do it for show?  Maybe I scoffed a little with a thought of, yeah, like that's going to help.

Photo of the muddy winners from the Internet.
The race began and it was exciting to watch the horses, splattering mud as they each tried to gain a lead. And then Orb came up from behind and in one final sprint he passed all the horses and won.  It was then that I wondered if the jockey was the one that I had seen make the sign of the cross.  If it was, my scoffing turned to belief.  Maybe, if the person asking for help is sincere and asks humbly with a heartfelt prayer, a request can be answered. I will never know if Joel Rosario was the one I saw making the sign of the cross.  I know the colors were right, orange and white, (those were the colors on my t.v.) but whether or not it was him will remain a mystery. I choose to think it was Rosario (why even his name is "rosary,") and that God heard his prayer!

"Prayers not felt by us
are seldom heard by God."
Philip Henry