Yes, Julian...

Patience IS a virtue. Look just how virtuous Mommy has been! But it was really a struggle. Until last Sunday.
First you. A fever of 104 for three days straight. I had no time to be impatient, but I did invoke His name many a time to help you get better. And so did you. It was so moving too hear you say "Please. Thank you." The most perfect prayer. You asked for nothing verbally, but He knew your heart.
As soon as you were on your way to recovery, it was my turn. Four days of misery. But I slowed down, focused on the "O Antiphons" and prayed a lot.
Now everyone in the house is well and ready for tonight's "Missa del Pollet" . In Spanish speaking countries Midnight Mass is called "Rooster's Mass" because of the hour it is celebrated. The vigil mass is called "Missa del Pollet" because it is directed specifically towards children as most of them unable to stay up so late. You can stay up very late, but you get quite grumpy and the next morning you are impossible!
So, planning ahead and purposely having nothing to do during Advent, but what should be done to be prepared for His birth has been an experience we will repeat every year. And I hope that every year, all year, you and I and everyone around us lives out this joyful hope of Advent.
In just a few hours we will receive Him. Not as we receive him every day or every Sunday. Everything will be new. He will be new. Hopefully we will be new.

Julian, I hope you have a Merry CHRISTmas! ¡Feliz Navidad! Bon Nadal! Joyeux Noël! Bones Navidaes! Zalig Kerstfeest! Fröhliche Weihnachten! Kala Christougenna Ki'eftihismenos! Mele Kalikimaka! Mo'adim Lesimkha! Nollaig Shona Dhuit! Buon Natale! Utzul mank'inal! Wesolych Swiat! Boas Festas! Sumaj kausay kachun Navidad ch'sisipi! Bon Natali! Nadolig LLawen! Glædelig Jul!

Remember, tomorrow is the Biggest Birthday Party in the universe!

Saturday, December 15 - Getting Ready for Gaudete

Oh! The Lord is now nigh and close at hand!!!!!!
Indeed reason to REJOICE!
This very special Third Sunday of Advent must be commemorated in some meaningful way . But what to do?
Well, we usually bake a cake and make a birthday card for Jesus a few days before CHRISTmas. I want Julian to really concentrate on the fact that this is about Jesus and not really about the many gifts he is going to receive. (I really mean many. He's an only child, only grandson on D's side of the family. This makes for an avalanche of gifts on CHRISTmas and Epiphany. I don't like it, but it's a reality I have to deal with.)
So we take time out to decorate a large piece of construction paper and write our birthday wishes for the Baby Jesus. We display it prominently and sing Happy Birthday Jesus. I hope that doing this will heighten the expectation for his arrival on CHRISTmas Day.
I know that these last ten days until CHRISTmas, looking at that home-made birthday card will remind Julian and all who come into our home why we celebrate CHRISTmas.

Friday, December 14 - Feria de Santa Lucía

Tomorrow I am breaking my Advent resolution and we are going to the Feria de Santa Lucía. it's a CHRISTmas Fleamarket located in the plaza in front of the Barcelona Cathedral. Those of you who listen to SQPN podcasts may remember Brother Giles taking a soundseeing tour around this same cathedral.
It is said that if you can't find something at this CHRISTmas market, you can't find it anywhere. They may just be right.
We are going to buy some more figurines for Julian's nativity. He's got the important ones, Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, the Wise Men, donkey, ox, even some Roman soldiers. Now we want some villagers, a well that pumps water, a wood burning oven that doesn't burn anything and assorted animals.
We are hoping to put up our Nativity scene this weekend. Unlikely. i've got my students' reports to proof, last minute details for the CHRISTmas pageant, the house is a mess, and the fridge is empty. So, am I stressing? No. Inevitably everything gets done wether I stress or not. The Nativity scene will be beautiful no matter what. D. will clean the house. On CHRISTmas Day, after the dust of pulverized gift wrapping settles, we will calmly sit back and look at the Baby in the manger and we won't remember the rush or the stress.

Friday, December 14 - Childhood Memories

Lots to catch up on.
Last weekend I spent four days of pre-madness relaxation in the country. Mountains, sea, fresh air, roaring fire in the fireplace, sleeping late, going to bed early. It was great! Sadly, I could not update the blog but I have been keeping up with my Advent resolutions.

Today I ran into a great article by Deacon Tom. I reminded me of my childhood in Juarez, Mexico, my dear grandmother Mamá Lucita (hope you've made friends with St. Joseph :) ) and the crowd of people going from house to house with large figures of Joseph and Mary from Abuelita's Nacimiento asking to be let in. House after house the crowd would sing to be let in and the "inkeepers" would refuse. But at the very last house would always let the pilgrims in.
I especially remember the year I got to be the angel and would lead the procession candle in hand, with Joseph and Mary right behind me. How I wanted those wings and that halo to be real! How I wanted to be as "good" as I felt that special night all year around! I remember crying when I heard the people inside the house say no. They were saying no to St. Joseph and to our Mother Mary!!!! I didn't cry out loud. The memory of the tear stains on my white satin robe are so vivid.
But at the last house! Oh! To hear:
Entren Santos Peregrinos, Peregrinos
Reciban este rincón
Aun que es pobre la morada, la morada
Os la doy de corazón.

I feel so dumb for crying as I write this. But I know that the innocence of my short six years of life can no be recaptured. At least not by me, but my hopes are high for Julian!

Eleven short days to welcome Him. Patience is a virtue!

Wednesday, December 5

Fourth day of Advent and eve of St. Nicholas.

Advent exercise:

Call, write, send an email, and IM to your family and friends and make peace or just tell them how much they mean to you.

Mom and Dad, words are not enough to tell you how much I owe you. I do not honor you as I should but today is a good day to change that.
Al, we don't talk much, but you are always in my prayers.
Carlos, I know you are trying to find your way back. He is your guide.
Isela, you are an island of calmness in the sea of turmoil that is our family.
Rosie, you've made my faith stronger.
D. you keep me on His Path.
Julian I love you.

Today God loves the world so much that he gives you, he gives me, to love the world, to be his love, his compassion. It is such a beautiful thought for us—and a conviction—that you and I can be that love and compassion.—Mother Teresa

On the road to CHRISTmas:
Julian is relentless. He wants the CHRISTmas tree now. Never mind that we are making a Jesse Tree. He wants a REAL tree. The Hospital across the street has put up the lights on the very large tree in front of the building and he doesn't want to be left behind and above all, he wants to make sure they don't run out. He is convinced that Santa is not going to come to our house if we don't put up a tree.

By the way, We have a 4 day weekend starting tomorrow (Spanish Constitution on the 6th and Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary on the 8th, with the 7th thrown in for good measure) and we are going to my husband's village. I will be out of touch with technology for the better part of the weekend. Nothing but cows, mountains, hopefully snow but I doubt it, maybe the beach and lots of trees. I'll write and entry everyday and post all at once when we come back to civilization. By then, we'll be four days closer to CHRISTmas!!!! Hurray!!!!!

Tuesday, December 4 - Hidden from the Wise

This is the 3rd day of Advent. Still waiting in joyful hope.

I recently told this story to María Johnson and wouldn't you know it, it fits right in with today's Gospel (Luke 10: 21)

In that same hour he rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, "I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to babes; yea, Father, for such was thy gracious will.

When my son Julian was 2 years old, he wanted eveything now, now now (in this way he is a typical child). So I'd say to him, "Patience is a virtue" apparently it sunk in. A year later I'd ask, "What is patience?" He'd respond, "A virtue"

Just a few days ago I told him that I couldn't wait for Baby Jesus to come to us on December 25th. He looked at me with those twinkling brown eyes and said, "Mommy, patience is a virtue. And anyway… (and here comes the way he's NOT a typical child) Jesus already lives in your heart forever"

Indeed He does!

I think he's got more than one lesson learned.


And wouldn't you know it…we're one day closer! (21)

Monday, December 3 - Time Has a New Meaning

Today is the second day of the Advent season.

And time has a new meaning, as we wait, in expectation. And what can we do. Well, pray seems to be what we are doing in our house. But also, we are trying to spend our time being more. I am trying to be more patient with D. and he with me. Julian is much more well-behaved (although I suspect that it has something to do with a fat man dressed in red). We are trying to be more generous. D., who never gives people on the street money (I mean NEVER), gave a man one euro (also unusual for him).
We have so little time to get prepared for His coming. And I don't just mean CHRISTmas. No, I mean it in the larger scheme of things. And we only seem to remember it in the four weeks prior to CHRISTmas.
My sincere hope is that this "season of more" lasts past CHRISTmas, Epiphany and the coming year.

An Advent prayer from Catholic Online:

Father, all-powerful God, your eternal Word took flesh on our earth when the Virgin Mary placed her life at the service of your plan. Lift our minds in watchful hope to heart the voice which announces his glory and open our minds to receive the Spirit who prepares us for his coming. We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.


My own Jesus, what you ask is beyond me. I can hardly understand half of the things you want. I am unworthy. I am sinful. I am weak. Go, Jesus, and find a more worthy soul, a more generous one. —Mother Teresa



The Jesse Tree is well on its way. Julian constantly wants to make sure that this will not be the only tree in this house. Don't worry Julian, Our house will look like a Winter Wonderland in no time at all.


Twenty-two days until CHRISTmas!

Sunday, December 2 - Go!

Today is the First Sunday of Advent.

Be ready! That's what Advent is all about. For me, prayer is the most important part of this season, because as Fr. Robert Barron said in his homily for today, Advent is not easy.

So here is a prayer for the first day of Advent from Catholic Online:

Advent Prayer

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a wonder at the wisdom and power of Your Father and ours. Receive my prayer as part of my service of the Lord who enlists me in God's own work for justice.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a hunger for peace: peace in the world, peace in my home, peace in myself.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a joy responsive to the Father's joy. I seek His will so I can serve with gladness, singing and love.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me the joy and love and peace it is right to bring to the manger of my Lord. Raise in me, too, sober reverence for the God who acted there, hearty gratitude for the life begun there, and spirited resolution to serve the Father and Son.

I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, whose advent I hail. Amen.



All beginners have their many crosses, but pray for me and for those who join, that we may have the courage to do this work for souls. —Mother Teresa


CHRISTmas is twenty-three days away!

Saturday, December 1 - Ready, Set…

Advent is tomorrow.

The excitement is unbearable. Julian is catching it too.


Christmas is just 24 days away.

Friday, November 30 - Jesse Tree

Advent, on Sunday, people!

We started a Jesse tree. I found it on Internet and then Greg and Jennifer from Rosary Army in their latest podcast talked about it. So I printed some of the symbols, drew some (they generally resemble what they ought to be) and got the rest from Microsoft clip art (could not for the life of me draw a burning bush). I'll post some pictures as we go along.


Christmas update: We have the PS2. Woe be me! I've put my foot down on getting any violent games.
First it was safe TV, then child-friendly DVDs, then parental control on the computer. Now I have to read up on video games.
Will this child ever develop a sense of right and wrong all on his own?


Twenty-five days until the BIG DAY!

Technical difficulties

There was something wrong with my blogger account and was unable to post Friday and Saturday. Since I wrote them anyway, I'll post them. Does this break some type of blogger law?

Thursday, November 29 - It's just around the corner.

Yes, just tomorrow and Saturday and bam! it crept up on us. Advent. Oh, the expectation! Oh, the anticipation! Each year I am more and more excited about it.
Last year I learned it was a process. Much like Lent (Thank you Fr. Chris for calling it CHRISTmas Lent). Alas, I only thought about it this way on the third Sunday of Advent. Much like buying your CHRISTmas tree the day after CHRISTmas. So I firmly resolved to start thinking about it right around my birthday. So on October 23rd I turned the page of my appointment book, my cell phone sent out a reminder, Google calendar sent me an email. And I got to planning. I read things, I talked to people, I made a list (this really is of no help. I have so many half finished lists in my to-do notebook that it is rendered pointless) and I prayed.
So here we are, just two more days and I'm ready!!!!

On the CHRISTmas front:
I do not know how it happened but all the talk about waiting until Julian's birthday to buy him a video console (here) , a Wii to be exact was for naught! I don't know how or when it happened, but D. is not only getting a PS2 (I believe infernal machine were my exact words), but we are getting it this Saturday and we are going to unleash it into our lives on January 6th. Big mistake I tell you. But, I have learned that when it comes to cars and technology, when Mr. D. makes up his mind, I better step aside.

The key number is 26.

Wednesday, November 28 - The Perfect Gift

Yes, just three more shopping days until CHRISTmas!
No, I've not gone totally mad! This year I firmly resolve to do no more CHRISTmas shopping after Saturday. What is not done now will have to be done AFTER the 25th of December (which will actually be the 27th. No, I'm not planning to lose a day. The 26th is a holiday in Cataluña, St. Steven). What? Yes, that is my Advent resolution. You don't know about those! Well, let me see if I can decipher my madness for you.
Every CHRISTmas it's the same old thing. I buy some stuff at the after-CHRISTmas sales, some at the July sales (In Spain sales are only allowed twice a year. They start after Epiphany and on July 1 and last for about two months. Strange. Yes! But that's what I have to work with!). The rest of the stuff I buy in December. The typical scenario goes like this:
I go shopping sometime in early December. Can't find exactly what I want. As if the perfect gift exists. So I'm faced with having to go out on December 23 and 24 and fight everyone else for the not-so-perfect gift. Frankly, I'm tired!
This year things will be different. If I do not find anything in the next three days (I probably won't because Julian and I are sick and have no strength to go shopping) I will make cookies for those who I know will appreciate them and the rest will have to wait until Epiphany (Reyes) to receive their perfect or imperfect gift.
What in the world will I do from December 2nd until the 24th I will concentrate on preparing for Baby Jesus to come. So, I have to clean house, not just the mess I have around me, but the one I have inside too. I want to be squeaky clean when Jesus comes. I'll be looking at web pages, blogs, listening to podcasts, going to daily mass, talking about Advent, teaching Julian to be prepared in his own way. With all of that to do to get prepared, I'll hardly have any time to go downtown in search of the perfect gift. I'd rather get the perfect gift at midnight on December 25th.
Speaking of which; there are only 27 more days until CHRISTmas!!!!!

Break in Programing... Si no justicia, ¡castigo!

Le hemos explicado a Julián que los malos de la clínica Ginemedex van a ser castigados. Como mínimo, que cumplan la ley, que para eso está (independientemente de lo sea moralmente lícito). Aquí se puede leer más.


Every time my husband walked in front of the Ginemedex clinic with Julian, he would tell our son to say a prayer for all the dead babies that had been murdered inside. Well, it looks like Julian's prayers have been answered. That clinic, and three others in Barcelona were closed down for allegedly performing abortions in the 7th and 8th month of pregnancy. When interviewed, Dr. Morín (he took the money from the women, not sure if he held the murder weapon) earlier this year he was quoted as saying, "You have your morality, I have mine". Looks like you'll be taking your "morality" to jail with you. I'm sure Julian has prayed for you tonight, Dr. Morín. Here is some information on the case.

Tuesday, November 27 - CHRISTtmas Music

Advent season begins in 5 days.

Well, the Advent wreath is well on its way! Now I'm making an Advent calendar. I have the traditional one with little windows that you must open on the 24 days prior to CHRISTmas. I want to make another one for Julian. Trying to get ideas. Anyone?

I've been listening to Christmas music. I ran across a lovely 16th Century Spanish Villancico (carol) that has me mesmerized. It is called "Riu, riu, chiu". I have not figured out how to put music on here (can it be done?) so I will subject you to a Youtube video. The version I have is better, but alas, one must do with what one has (the hand clapping is a bit of an excess) . By the way, don't miss The Monkees (yes, THOSE Monkees!) giving it a go.




And by the way, did you know that we only have 28 more days until CHRISTmas?!

Monday, November 26 - Toy Adventure and Santa Sighting

Just six more days and Advent will begin!


This past weekend D., Julian and I went to Toys-R-Us (Yes, there is one in Barcelona, well close by in Badalona) and had a great time looking at all the toys.
We told Julian that we were not going to buy anything, we were just looking to see what he wanted to put on his Christmas list.
Now he has an even bigger list than before. His heartfelt wish goes as follows:
PlayStation (he doesn't care about the number)
A cat
A dog
A brother
A sister (he made sure to tell us that this last wish was ONLY if Santa was unable to bring any of the other things)

Now he wants a race track (Hurray! we already bought a Scalextric C4GT. The US equivalent is a bit different, it includes a Jaguar XKR Trans-Am along side the Aston Martin DBR 9 instead of the Chevrolet Corvette C6R of the Spanish set.), a Lightning McQueen car, a train, anything Spiderman, and the list goes on.
Speaking of Spiderman... Julian got lost at Toys-R-Us. We heard his name over the loudspeakers and D. went running to find him. D. says he had never seen such big tear drops. When Julian saw his father he ran to D. and gave him a great big hug and a million kisses. This was the first time we've lost him. Since he was so upset, we bought him a Spiderman doll. Sometimes we can be such pushovers!

We then headed off to Corte Inglés to continue our window shopping. There we saw Mr. Santa. Julian still believes! The store Santa smiled when Julian approached and told him "My, how you've grown in one year!" Julian was just plain silly with excitement. He made sure to tell Santa he was a good boy. When I asked Julian if Santa had said anything about him not wanting to do his math work at school, Julian responded, "Santa doesn't care about that, he only cares if I've been good or bad." Indeed!

Twenty-nine until Christmas!

Sunday, November 25 - ¡Viva Cristo Rey!

Just seven more days for the beginning of the Advent season.
Today is the Feast of Christ the King.
For me this feast is especially meaningful. My Catholic Mexican family was so affected by this historical event that we dare not forget the suffering that those close to us endured in the name of Christ. The story may or may not be known to many so go here to find out more about this dark period of the Catholic Church in Mexico.
The persecution was so fierce and so many people gave their life for their faith in Jesus Christ that I assumed that all Catholics knew of these atrocities. I think that after John Paul II beatified them on his visit to Mexico in 2000 more Catholics became aware of their sacrifice made for their faith.
One of the martyrs was Blessed Miguel Pro. The following is a prayer attributed to him:
Does our life become from day to day more painful, more oppressive, more replete with afflictions? Blessed be He a thousand times who desires it so. If life be harder, love makes it also stronger, and only this love, grounded on suffering, can carry the Cross of my Lord Jesus Christ. Love without egotism, without relying on self, but enkindling in the depth of the heart an ardent thirst to love and suffer for all those around us: a thirst that neither misfortune nor contempt can extinguish... I believe, O Lord; but strengthen my faith... Heart of Jesus, I love Thee; but increase my love. Heart of Jesus, I trust in Thee; but give greater vigor to my confidence. Heart of Jesus, I give my heart to Thee; but so enclose it in Thee that it may never be separated from Thee. Heart of Jesus, I am all Thine; but take care of my promise so that I may be able to put it in practice even unto the complete sacrifice of my life.

¡Viva Cristo Rey!


Thirty days until CHRISTmas!

Saturday 11-24 - Advent and CHRISTmas Countdown!

Just eight more days for the beginning of Advent. So I have just one more week to get all the "fun" Advent stuff ready for Julian. Although for me this season is spiritual, I want my child to learn to experience the expectation of this "coming of our Savior." So, I will be making an Advent wreath, a cute non-religious Advent calendar and also a religious one. I want him to learn that although "The World" (I always find the usage of this term perplexing and will write about it another time) celebrates the days leading up to CHRISTmas one way, the way we celebrate, first and foremost, has to reflect what we are celebrating. Once we do that, we can also join the rest of "The World" and buy presents for each other, eat, drink and be merry, because after all what we believe is all about community.

So, there are just 31 more days until CHRISTmas.

Shameful Manipulation

Today D. and I are off to the toy stores with Julian. We already have already know what he is getting, we're just taking him to try and convince him that what is already strategically hidden around our flat and at his avia's is what he really wants.
What he really wants is a Playstation. But D. and I are NOT willing to buy that infernal machine. He's only 6 years old and a rather sedentary child, so a device that encourages him to sit for hours is not something we are considering. If we should succumb to months of unbearable pressure from Julian, we are not at all opposed to the Nintendo Wii. But that would be a birthday gift. So we have six months to listen to a litany of reasons why he can not live without that Thing:
Quiero la Play
My friends have it!
No me quereis.
I'm bored.
Ya he visto todas la películas que tenemos.
I promise I won't ... (fill in the blank) if you buy it for me.
Te prometo que ... (diversas promesas, casi todas ellas sin propósito de ser cumplidas) si me la compras.

And I am sure that he will come up with so many more in the next few months.

Happy Turkey Day

Oh yes, another Thanksgiving away from Mom's house. I miss this holiday soooooo much. CHRISTmas is CHRISTmas anywhere, because He is everywhere. But Thanksgiving... well, that's strictly US.
I can try duplicating the Thanksgiving dinner, (The first time I attempted here in Barcelona I had so saw off half of the drumstick bones because the 12 lbs. bird did now fit into my small oven), but it's not the same. No cranberries here. No pumpkin pie spice. No brown sugar to make most of the desserts that I love. And, I can never make Thanksgiving dinner on Thanksgiving Day. I must wait until the following Saturday, as I must work on Thursday.
So I've given up trying to make our Thanksgiving dinner authentic. I simply make turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy and a simple apple pie.
What I will do is go to Mass on Thursday and Saturday and give the Lord thanks for the usual things and some that are not so usual. Here's the rundown:
Him
My son and husband
Family
Friends
Health
Job
My little ones
My coworkers
Internet (I can keep in touch with anybody)
My calling plan (I can call Mom and talk to her for 30 minutes each day)
The newsstand guy (he saves a Martha Stewart Living magazine each month and hard to find trading cards for Julian)
All the podcasting priests
All podcasting Catholics
All Catholic podcasts
...

At the end of the day, each day not just Thanksgiving, what really counts is that we recognize how lucky we are that we have so much to be thankful for.

¿Por qué no te callas?

Sí, Hugo Chávez es una vergüenza en el panorama internacional. El problema es que darle importancia a todo lo que vomita este individuo, lo engrandece y sintiéndose engrandecido... pues... no calla.

Ahora, a los que no les toca callar es a los inútiles del Ministerio de Exteriores. Señores, el presidente de Venezuela, que está haciendo todo lo posible por convertirse en REY, ha amenazado a ciudadanos y empresas españolas, ha insultado a políticos españoles (en mi opinion, merecido se lo tienen, pero hay límites) y al Rey (No soy monárquica. En mi país echamos al Rey de Inglaterra hace más de 200 años y no comparto el sentimiento de lealtad a un rey con minúscula, pero si respeto a los que la tienen).
¡Haced algo!
¡Qué mal puestos los teneis!

Vale.
Ahora le quitamos hierro al asunto.

En español

I suppose that this initial obsession with "Wave of Sorrows" will dissipate, if not disappear in due time. For now, I am looking for any and all information on this song. I am THAT obsessive about U2. I'm not a scary, stalking fan, but I DO ENJOY THEIR MUSIC! (and I think The Edge is sooooo handsome, yes, The Edge, not Bono, call me weird).
So searching for all things U2, and "Wave of Sorrows" specifically, I've run across a few translations of the song into Spanish that I do not agree with. So, I've spent time that I should be using in a more productive endeavor, into translating the song into Spanish.

Wave of Sorrow

Heat haze rising
On hell’s own hill.

You wake up this morning
It took an act of will.
You walk through the night
To get here today
To bring your children
To give them away.

Oh, oh this cruel sun.
Is daylight never done?
Cruelty just begun
To make a shadow of everyone

And if the rain came?
And if the rain came now?

Souls bent over without a breeze,
Blankets on burning trees .
I’m sick without disease.
Nobility on its knees.

And if the rain came?
And if the rain came now?
Would it wash us all away
On a wave of sorrow?
Wave
On a wave of sorrow.

Where now the Holy cities?
Where the ancient Holy scrolls?
Where now emperor Menelek?
And the Queen of Sheba’s gold?

You are my bride.
You wear her crown.
And on your finger precious stones.
As every good thing
now been sold.

Son, of shepherd boy, now King
What wisdom can you bring?
What lyric would you sing?
Where is the music of the Seraphim?

And if the rain came?
And if the rain came now?
Would it wash us all away
On a wave of sorrow?
Wave
A wave of sorrow .
Wave...

Blessed are the meek
who scratch in the dirt,
For they shall inherit
what’s left of the Earth.
Blessed are the Kings
who’ve left their thrones,
They are buried
in this Valley of Dry Bones.

Blessed all of you
with an empty heart,
For you got nothing
from which you cannot part.
Blessed is the ego
It’s all we got this hour.

Blessed is the voice
that speaks truth to power.
Blessed is the sex worker
who sold her body tonight.
She used what she got
To save her children’s life.

Blessed are you,
the deaf cannot hear a scream.
Blessed are the stupid
who can dream.
Blessed are
the tin-canned cardboard slums.
Blessed is the spirit
that overcomes.




Ola de dolor

La calina se eleva
de la colina del infierno.

El despertarte
fue acto de voluntad.
Caminas toda la noche
para llegar hoy.
Traes a tus hijos
para regalarlos.

O… o el sol es cruel.
¿La luz del sol, nunca desaparecerá?
La crueldad empieza
a convertirnos a todos en sombra.

¿Y si llega la lluvia?
¿Y si llegase la lluvia?

Almas doblegadas sin siquiera brisa.
Mantas sobre árboles ardientes.
Soy un enfermo sin enfermedad.
Mi dignidad se ha arrodillado.

¿Y si llega la lluvia?
¿Y si llegase la lluvia?
¿Nos llevaría a todos
Sobre una ola de dolor?
Ola
Sobre una ola de dolor.

¿Dónde están las ciudades santas?
¿Dónde los pergaminos santos?
¿Dónde el emperador Menelik?
¿Y el oro de la reina de Saba?

Tú eres mi desposada.
Llevas su corona.
En tu dedo piedras preciosas.
Como todo lo bueno,
ahora te han vendido.

Hijo del pastor, ahora rey
¿Qué sabiduría nos traes?
¿Qué letra cantarías?
¿Dónde está la música de los serafines?

¿Y si llega la lluvia?
¿Y si llegase la lluvia?
¿Nos llevaría a todos?
Sobre una ola de dolor?
Ola
Sobre una ola de dolor
Ola…

Bienaventurados los mansos
que trabajan la tierra
porque de ellos será
lo que queda de ella.
Bienaventurados los reyes
que han abandonado su tronos
Están enterrados
en el Valle de los huesos secos.

Bienaventurados los que
tengan un corazón vacío
Pues no tienesn nada
a lo que no puedan renunciar.
Bendito el ego,
es todo lo que nos queda.

Bienaventurada es la voz
que reta al Poder
Bienaventurada la prostituta
que vendió su cuerpo esta noche
Utilizó lo que ganó
para salvar a sus hijos

Bienaventurado tú
el sordo que no puede oir los gritos
Bienaventurados los estúpidos
que aún pueden soñar
Bienaventuradas
las barriadas chabolistas
Bienaventurado el espíritu
que lo pueda superar.





I encourage any opinions/corrections on the translation.
I would also like ideas or comments on the biblical references found in the song:
holy cities, holy scrolls, Valley of Dry Bones, Queen of Sheba, Solomon, Seraphim, The Beatitudes.

Me encantaría recibir opiniones/correciones en cuanto a la traducción.
También me encantaría que se entablara una conversación sobre los temas bíblicos de la canción:
ciudades santas, pergaminos santos, el Valle de los huesos secos, la Reina de Saba, Salomón, los serafines, las Bienaventuranzas.

The wonder that is U2.

Bono, brilliant. U2, awsome. Joshua Tree, a classic. Wave of Sorrow, amazing.
For me, there will be no better band than U2.
I was left speechless when I fist saw them back in 1984.
I was left speechless when I first heard The Joshua Tree.
I was left speechless (literally) when I met Bono and The Edge in LA during the Achtung tour.
Now Wave of Sorrow...

Not that I'm counting...

We have just 23 more days until the Advent season begins and 44 more days until CHRISTmas! Hurray!!!!
With CHRISTmas shopping done, I'm not going to start shopping for Reyes (Epiphany for all those outside the Latin/Hispanic tradition) until after New Years Day. So... I have a relatively hassle free month ahead of me :)
Now, my conundrum is the following:
When do I start with the CHRISTmas music? Here in Barcelona, all the CHRISTmas lights have been hung on all the major streets. They have not officially flipped the switch yet (we'll have to wait on Corte Inglés for that) but they are there. I see them everyday on my way to and from work. They tease me. I start to hum "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" (The Barenaked Ladies version of course) and have to stop myself. Why? Why must I keep all this CHRISTmas glee to myself. I am not going to break out in song as I walk up Mandri Street, mind you, but I am itching to hear HCJr.'s voice beebopping "Mary's Boy Child".
The problem is that here, we don't have Thanksgiving, which back home is our family's official beginning of the Advent/CHRISTmas seasons. So, what is en expat to do?

Ooh La La, Je suis française!

I always saw myself more of a...hmmm...Spanish-type!

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?

Forgotten September Item

I PASSED MY DRIVING TEST!

Now I can be a menace in two continents!

October Good-byes and Panellets

The back to work stress is gone. Taking its place is another type of stress. The you've-got-to-get-this-done-yesterday type of stress.
To add to the usual beginning-of-the-school year chaos, there is personal tragedy. My co-worker's mom was diagnosed with cancer. She had surgery and it seems to have eradicated the cancer, but will have to undergo all the treatments associated with this illness. 

The real tragedy is that V's mom does not want to follow treatment and is making this situation difficult for my co-worker. So much so, that she's had to quit working to no only take care of her mom, but also try to regroup, as she is an emotional and psychological mess. It's such a pity, V was great with the kids and and excellent friend and co-worker. We'll miss you and be certain that you will be in my and my family's prayers.

On a lighter note:

This week we celebrated Halloween and Castañada. It was and intense week to say the least! We prepared our craft projects: pumpkins, bats. black cats, skeletons, witches hats and spiders for Halloween. And chestnuts, snails, painted leaves for Castañada. 

On Tuesday, María Castañera came to visit the children at school. We sang songs and made panellets. 

According to tradition, María Castañera (Castanyera in Catalan) is an old lady that cells roasted chestnuts in the village plaza. On the day before All Saints Day, she comes down from the mountain and visits school children to give them the chestnuts she's gathered and roasted for them. A great time was had by all!

Earlier that morning we had made panellets. They are little round balls made with boiled potato, sugar, ground almond and egg yolk. The señoritas mixed all the ingredients and the children rolled the dough into little balls and then covered them with pine nuts, minced almonds or cherries. It was a huge mess, but we laughed, we cried, we wished we were 3, 4, 5 years old again!

On Wednesday the 31st, we celebrated Halloween. The class of 5 year old went off on a field trip to celebrate the Castañada with the kids in primary.  The 3 and 4 year olds stayed behind, put on their Halloween masks and sang Halloween, Castañada and Autumn songs. We watched videos and generally took it easy.

(You see D., there's a reason why I come home so exhausted!)

Now, I have a 4 day weekend ahead of me. Believe me, I need it!

September

Back home and no time to miss anyone. School starts in about two weeks and I have a month worth of work to do. This is the part I hate so much about vacation. 

Since September 11 is a holiday here (nothing to do with the tragedy in NYC)and we get a long weekend, we are going away. This will me our last taste of summer and possibly the last time we go to the beach this year. I don't particularly like going... Too much sun and sand, but Julian loves it so much, that I'd be a "bad" mom if I didn't put up with is for him.

We'll be going to Sant Martí d'Empúries in the Costa Brava. It's a quaint little sea side village. There is nothing left of the VI century village that stood, but its replacement maintains all the medieval charm. The attraction (for non-beach goers) is the Romanesque style church and what is left of the village walls,

The church is small but impressive. The early Christian white marble altar is unique as is the main altar decorated with horseshoes and is dated at around the 10th century. My favorite is the  baptismal font. It brings joy to my heart to know that thousands and thousands of babies have been baptized there since the 12th century.

Leaving California

August 25, 2007

It's always difficult to come home after vacation. But not because I know that I'll be faced with the routine of going back to work. It's because of who I'm leaving behind. I suppose it happens to everyone who has elderly parents and lives in another state, another country, another continent. 

And this time around, it was more evident that my parents had crossed the line that divides old from elderly. 

Dad always cut a dashing figure. Handsome, tall, dark hair, skin browned by the sun and so many years of working outdoors. When I think about Dad, that's the photograph in my mind. Now his hair is gray and thinning (but at 74 he still has most of it). He's not as tall as I remember him and he walks with a limp that makes him look even shorter. He is still the most handsome man I know. Is that looking at him through adoring-daughter's eyes? You bet! What kind of daughter would I be if I didn't think so?

And Mom. After my teen-aged battles and young adult scrimmages, I've come to see the error of my ways and come to love my mother with the same intensity that I "hated" her at 16 (dumb child that I was). She is a truly good person. I've not personally known a person that shines the love of Christ through everything she says and everything she does. It is even more amazing because her personal cross is heavy. The daily pain she must endure makes her understand and want to lessen the pain of others. But when I look at her and see how her illness has aged in the the two year interval between my visits, I have come to realize that Our Lord will call her home sooner or later. Dear Lord your will be done, but my selfishness wants it to be later.

I love you Mom and Dad.

Travel Back in Time.

I've been remiss, busy, on vacation and all the other reasons...er... excuses that people give when they stop writing in a blog.

But the next few entries I'll go back in time and update. 

Mega Dorky Nerd Queen!!!!!

I finally won at something!  Er... well, not exactly something to write Mom about, but hey!

You like me! You really like me! (Here's to you Sally.)

Sunny So. Cal

I'm home again. I've been here a week and it feels like I never left. Family is always like that, they make transitions simple.

What has been harder to deal with is all the day-to-day craziness. Things that I simply can not understand with my acquired European frame of mind.

Example 1:

Having to justify medical care for all children. Yes, they do better in school. Yes, they are more likely to have better health as adults. Better reason: they are human beings, they should have access to the most basic necessities.

Example 2:

If a non-US citizen marries a US citizen, they must return to their country of origin for an "unspecified" period of time. A German (no job, no education)woman married to a guy from Irvine is back in the US in a few weeks. A Mexican guy (PhD student, working at the university) married to a Chicana has been in Mexico for almost two years. Hmmmmmm, makes you think.

Example 3:

The whole immigration craziness. 'Nuff said.

But other than that, the OC is a nice place to visit...

Montjuich 1 - Marnie 0

Al final, no ha podido ser.

Pero realmente ha sido un alivio presentarme y quitarme el miedo de encima. Las últimas 72 horas han sido una tortura para mí. No tanto porque no me sentía preparada, sino porque el mito que envuelve el subir a examen es abrumador.

Ne he podido comer ni dormir bien estos dos últimos días. He estado obsesionada con la tercera marcha (mi punto débil, que al final de cuentas y cuentos no ha sido el problema.) Anoche no se cuántos rosarios llegué a rezar (la verdad es que me tranquilizó bastante.) Esta mañana/madrugada me desperté a las cuatro, asustada porque en mis sueños había atropellado a un peatón (se les llama a las personas que suelen merodear cerca de los cruces, indecisos ellos, hasta que ven un coche de autoescuela, y aprovechan para cruzar.) Al no poder conciliar el sueño, me levanté a eschuchar unos cuantos podcasts:

4am - Verbum Domini

4:06 - Pray-as-you-go

4:19 - Pray Station Portable

4:30 - Shower

Y me sobraban 2 horas para llegar a la autoescuela.

A las siete de la mañana, esperé junto a una chica joven y una señora mayor a que llegase el coche. Le señora se había presentado a examen dos veces. Para la chica era la primera vez.

Nos dirigimos hacia Montjuich. La señora y yo hicimos una última práctica. Lo sorprendente es que ya no estaba nerviosa. Me daba lo mismo.

Me tocó a mi primero. Los detalles son bastante aburridos (que si vamos a la derecha, que si vamos a la izquierda, que si aparque usted cuando pueda.) Fueron los diez minutos más largos de mi vida. Lo único que puedo decir es que me encontré con dos cruces de peatones (peatones incluidos) en los que no paré. Suspenso. En este caso, fueron lo peatones los que me hicieron daño a mí.

La próxima... ya veremos.

Ahora sólo toca hacer un mes de vacaciones y en septiembre apor ellos, oe.

Sweet Sixteen Again

I can still remember when I went to the California DMV to take part in that all important rite of passage. Getting your first drivers license. I remember getting behind the wheel and everything after that was a blur. When I pulled into the pick up port of the DMV building and saw my father waiting for me and smiling, I almost burst into tears. I could hardly believe the examiner when he told me that I had passed. Welcome to the world  of teen-aged driving! 

I pulled out to Grand Street with Daddy sitting in the passenger's seat. I could tell he was a bit uneasy, but to his credit, said nothing when I slammed on the breaks for no apparent reason.

Well, tomorrow July 20, 2007 I will to through that experience all over again. Why? Because true to form, I'm always a day late and a dollar short!

When I was planning to move to Barcelona, my then soon-to-be-husband inquired about the validity of a California drivers license in Spain. They said "no problem". What they didn't tell us that we'd better hurry. It turned out that as of July of 1998, we could forget about it. Since I was to arrive in BCN in late September, I was kept out the deal. Too bad. I'll tell you just how bad.

Two thousand five-hundred times too bad (so far that's how much it's cost me, in euros no less). If I don't pass tomorrow, it will be another 100 euros a week plus 50 euros more every time I get behind the wheel to take the test. Not to mention that twice a week I have to get up at some unreasonable hour to go to 7 am practice drives on the other side of town. 

Funny, but I don't feel like I did when at sixteen I went to get my passport to freedom. That expectation mixed in with the butterflies in my stomach. Knowing I'd get my dad's old '69 Barracuda. Now I'm just teed off because at the end of this whole ordeal, I will have spent the equivalent of 12 years vacations (the month of August)  in my husband's village, six trips to southern France, 3 trips to Italy or one trip to California to see my family.

The excitement of getting a brand new car is nothing compared to the memory of that old Barracuda.

They say you can't go home again, and I can tell you that Sweet Sixteen Redux is also not possible.

What would Martha say?

I can't decide if these items are sublime or tacky. Judge for yourselves.

I must confess that I own one of them. You will never guess which one.

Corridos

Recuerdo que el 10 de mayo, estuviésemos donde estuviésemos, toda la familia regresaba a Juárez para celebrar el Día de la Madre con mi abuelita.
Tíos, primos, amigos, el vecindario... todos felicitando a la matriarca del clan (Oh, how I'll miss that now that Mamá Lucita is gone!)
¡Y claro! Siempre había buena comida, bebida y música. El conjunto. Dos hombres vestidos con pantalones tejanos, camisa a cuadros y un sombrero tejano. Uno tocaba la guitarra y otro el acordión (It was perhaps this that prompted me to later on ask Mom to let me take accordion lessons.) Y cantaban de una manera, que aunque la música tuviera un timbre alegre, sus voces parecían un llanto, una súplica.
Y todos nos poníamos a bailar. Mis tíos con Mamá Lucita. Mi padre con mi madre. Tíos, primos, todos. Corridos bien bailados. Corridos bailados a lo tonto. Madres ensañando a sus hijos. Padres a sus hijas. Yo nunca lo pude hacer bien. Pero eso tampoco me importaba mucho. Desde esa temprana edad me di cuenta que bailar esos corridos era un rito de iniciación a la Gran Familia.

Imagine how floored I was when I ran across a feature on the NYTimes website on "Corridos North of the Border". My private sphere was now public. How incredible! How things have changed. How they will probably stay the same!

Porque hasta el NYTimes se ha interesado. Check it out.

Resignation or Impeachment.

I don't care which one, but the Texas Butcher, aka George W. Bush, needs to be but down one of those roads.
How can we stand by and accept this blatant disregard for the laws of the US and not clamor to the heavens for some action.
I could never say it better than Keith Olbermann did on July 3rd so go watch him make some sense.

The Sagrada Familia

Every time I go down Mallorca Street, I can hear the hustle and bustle of the people, the tour buses, the construction equipment. But I can't yet see it in it's full splendor. I have to actually cross Sicilia Street in order to see the spires. And when they come into full view, you can't help but feel small.
Perhaps that's what Antonio Gaudí wanted. To make you feel the grandness of God. The awesome spires reach out to heaven.
If the sky is gray, they almost seem to plead. If, on the other hand, the weather is good, they seem to be reaching up in praise.
So often. When I feel a little down, I go all they way to the other end of the city to look at them. The Twelve Apostles (only 8 built so far). When I think of them this way, and not as towers, then it's not so much earth reaching to heaven, but Heaven reaching down to earth and giving us that Divine Inspiration that some of us are so much in need of.
I have never really taken a look at what apostles each tower represents. It just makes me happy to know that they are here. And that one day, for domes, taller than the spires will be built, representing the four Evangelists. And then one taller than those four, representing our Holy Mother. I expect I will not be around to witness this, but my son will. How joyful to have this representation of Blessed Mary look over the city where my son lives. And finally, that tallest of the domes, with a giant cross perched high above it will represent Jesus. No words.
No words come out of my mouth as I stand in the plaza directly in front of the Passion facade. I just look, and pray and sometimes cry. And all around me flashes go off. I hear people speaking in foreign languages, some I recognize, some I do not. I may not understand what they are saying, but the tone is that of amazement at what stretches out before them.
And I sit in silence and revel my smallness.

Happy Father's Day

I suppose that today and tomorrow many a blog entry will touch upon this theme. Dad's all over the US must realize that theirs is a second rate holiday. But to me, it's just as important as Mother's Day. So important that I celebrate it two times. First on the 19th of March (St. Joseph's) and then again in June.
My dad has been so very important in my life that I could celebrate this day (and Mom's day as well, but I'll leave that for another occasion) every day of the year. Dad has done many things that make me appreciate him, both big and small. The one thing that will always stand out as his greatest attribute is that he was a great role model as a husband. It was thanks to the standard that he set that I ended up with my husband. After many other failed attempts at finding "Mr. Right", what made me decide on D. was not that he was just like my dad, but that I saw him as a loving caring husband and father. By no means perfect, but willing to go that extra step to make things work.
Dad always did that. In his relationship with Mom and with his children. Sometimes we didn't understand the why of his actions, especially when they implied not getting what we wanted, but as adults we all see the wisdom of his words. Not once was he wrong. He was never wrong in the things that matter.
I could go on and on but really the only things that I want to say to Daddy (yes, I am 42 years old, but he'll always be Daddy) over and over is: Thank you! Lo quiero mucho.
And now to all those who are nauseated by cheap sentimentality:STOP READING HERE!


I always hate it when people write song lyrics on blogs. Having said that here is part of the song that I always makes me think of Daddy (and Mom and Jesus):
For all the truth that you made me see. (About me and everything and everyone around me)
For all the wrong that you made right. (broken hearts, broken spirit, broken car)
For all the love I found in you. (and Mom)
You're the one who held me up. (when I needed it the most)
Never let me fall. (so many times)
You saw the best there was in me. (even when I couldn't or wouldn't)
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach. (Cookie jar)
You gave me faith cause you believed. (thank you for teaching me about Jesus)
I'm everything I am, because you loved me. (Thank you)
I lost my faith you gave it back to me. (with actions and love)
You said no star was out of reach. (it kept me going)
I was blessed because I was loved by you. (Thank you)
You were always there for me. (Thank you)
You've been my inspiration. (and still are)
Through the lies, you were the truth. (dime con quien andas y te diré quien eres)
My world is a better place because of you. (Thank you! I love you!)


Tu hija.

Trans Border Community

This past weekend I participated in the 2007 Atlanta Eucharistic Congress via Ustream. It was great to see the people that I usually listen to. What was even better was to see that Catholic joy that most non-Catholics seem to think is non-existent.
If there is something that I have learned this past year, since getting my very own iPod and downloading every Catholic podcast that I can get my hands on, is that, yes, we Catholics are a "peculiar bunch", but we have stopped being afraid of living our faith in a very public sphere.
At least in the US. Europe, or at least Spain is a very different matter. That is why I hang on to this virtual community that has formed around this new technology. I often mention Greg and Jennifer, Father Roderick, Fathers Seraphim, Fr. Bill, Fr. Geek, Fr. Barron, Fr. Dave and Mike, Doctor Paul and others in my conversations with husband, family and friends. The SQPN has become the Catholic community that I am lacking here in Barcelona. For you see, in my home God is present in all things great and small. But stepping outside my door it is almost impossible to find someone that will own up to believing in anything.
This summer I look forward to going back home (I've lived in Barcelona for nine years and I still call Orange County home) and joining the Catholic community that I grew up with. The one that pray and sings in Spanish and English. The one where everybody still knows my name. The one that knows that I am C. and G's daughter and R's sister and D and M's auntie. The one where you can say "God bless you", "God willing" "Praise God" and nobody will call you fascist for doing so (perhaps they will call you other things, but not fascist).
So, the countdown begins for what I hope will be a relaxing and Spirit filled vacation.

May God be praised!

My Child

My son is six years old. He doesn't really understand what is happening to him yet. Like his mother and father, he is growing up in a home where more than one language is spoken daily. He knows that Mom speaks English (much to my chagrin, as it was always my intention to speak the sweet sounding Spanish that I heard from Mom, Mother, Grandmother and aunts), Dad speaks Spanish and Grandmother speaks Catalan (also the language used as school).
The difference between Mom and Dad is that Dad's two languages are not that different. Mom's two languages are worlds apart.
When he was a baby, he was soothed by the sweet sound of "Duérmete niño" and didn't really care for "Hush Little Baby". Was is the sound of Spanish that lulled him to sleep, or was it that those words has much more feeling behind them than her learned English.
Now that he is six, he's increasingly more discontent with English. It is a language that is imposed on him. He has to learn it. Mom and Dad don't speak it to each other. In school, he gets one hour of English a week.
He wants to speak better Spanish and Catalan. He is painfully aware that all his friends speak much better than he does. He just wants to fit in. (I can hear the hurt in his voice, it's the same hurt I felt for so many years when my thick accent and my limited vocabulary made me stick out like a cactus in a flower garden)
Should I really continue to teach him something that is not something I feel as mine? D. says yes.
Yo no lo tengo tan claro.

Going Home

The upcoming trip to see my family is taking up most of my time. Non-existent time. End of trimester is always a tricky time for me. What is taking up most of my time is not the usual preparation. That's the easy part. One change of clothes, my favorite shoes, Barça t-shirts to give away. Mom's favorite bread sticks and assorted gift items for my sisters. No, that's not the problem.
The problem is the linguistic border that must be crossed in order to retain my dignity. Yes, being laughed at (not a blaring in your face haha. More of a snicker under the breath, but it's there. They love me too much to let out a big whooping laugh) is not one of my passions.
So words such as coche, conducir, coger(especially this one) must be put into a draw in my cluttered brain and I must drag out carro, manejar, agarrar. It's not that they don't understand the words, but they are just not used. This of course is just the tip of the linguistic iceberg. They here me, they somewhat understand me, but they know that their daughter/sister is not the same. She can't be. She's found new places to be displaced in. She's found new ways of being different.
I so envy my little sister. She doesn't question being Mexican, she does not question being American. She just is. Her big sister can't be either anymore.
Reading this, there may be tinge of regret mixed in with these words. There probably is. It doesn't bother me, got used to the constant flux of things in my life. Just going back to a universe where things have been the same for a long time and there's a bit of envy on my part. Just want my worlds to stop moving so I can enjoy them for a while.

The Border re-visited!

Ten days ago, my friend Carl paid me a visit. Had a great time with him, mostly chatted about grad school experiences. It was as if we had just picked up where our last conversation left off. Well, not quite. My Spanish has greatly improved and I'm not as reserved as I was nine years back.
Carl's comments about writing, about my constant treading on borders that got me thinking again. Really thinking.
Sure, born in El Paso, Texas, physical border. Growing up in an American environment with Mexican parents teaching and expecting us to live in a displaced Mexican culture. Becoming aware of being Chicana (feeling Mexican, feeling American, belonging to nothing and the possibility of belonging to both at the same time. See JBN, I was listening!).
Then marrying a Spaniard. From Catalonia (border culture here too). Moving to Barcelona and being Chicana is all of the sudden not important anymore. So, what now? American, that's it!
But, in every conversation I had with any Spaniard, I had to defend the American government. Hard enough to do with Clinton and his Oval Office tryst (What was her name? Oh who cares... Miss I'll-Keep-The-Blue-Dress-Just-In-Case) but absolutely impossible with the Texas Butcher at the helm.
So, back to being Mexican. But that wasn't right either. Easy solution. Become Spanish. That's right, Spanish citizenship. What the heck. It's just a paper anyway!

Fins aviat!

Here goes nothing!

Had been thinking about writing again. Don't really know why it all stopped. Maybe it was the transatlantic move. It gave me a chance to reinvent, to omit, to fictionalize.
But mostly it landed me right in the middle of the middle again. That's one of the things I could not really change. Been in no-man's-land since birth.
Should go back to the beginning, perhaps. But what beginning. Forty-two years is a long time. So is nine.
Well, perhaps next incursion back into this world of black and white will dictate how far back to start this tale of living on the line.

¡Hasta la (re)vista!