Um...Uh...

Well, I must not put off blogging tonight while I wait for inspiration to hit. That's what got me in big trouble last night - that, and a Midnight to 4 AM screening of Farscape: The Peacekeeper Wars. So, inspired or not, here I go, blogging!

I absolutely positively have to get a good night's sleep tonight, so I can be productive at work tomorrow instead of just dragging my way through as best I can. I have about three day's worth of work to do tomorrow, so I fully expect to spend the evening in my cubicle. Some of it may spill over into Thursday, but that's all. You see, I'm off to Los Alamos on Friday to attend my godson's First Communion in the Catholic Church. It's been something like four years since I've seen him, so this is a big deal. I'm counting on this weekend to get me reacquainted with Jacob. At the very least, I want to get a handle on how old he is now. It's a little tricky buying Christmas and December birthday gifts when I'm not sure whether he's seven, eight, nine or ten years old!

I'll be driving, which is something I'm really looking forward to. Until John and I got to Tucson in March, 1986 on our six week Looking for Someplace It Isn't Winter trip, we were seriously considering moving to Albuquerque or Gallup. It's a beautiful state, especially the top half of it, where the mesas and other red rocks are. Southern New Mexico has kind of yucky Chihuahuan desert scrub, but even that part of the state has its charms, such as the city named after a game show, fabled Roswell and (despite controversy) the Deming Duck Race.


About a decade ago I went exploring in New Mexico with a particular quirky purpose: to find the "real" Project Quantum Leap. That is, I pored over maps and drove around central and northern New Mexico, trying to deduce from scenery and place names just where Sam Beckett's time travel project would be if it existed in our reality. In the end I found a spot north of Trinity Site called Stallion's Gate (same as on Sam's driver's license), where the road even looked like the one Al drives on in the Quantum Leap pilot.

The other candidate, Los Alamos, where the Manhattan Project took place, didn't stack up to the clues provided on the show. It's an interesting place, though, still largely a city full of government scientists, living on an isolated mesa (technically a plateau). There are several museums. I hope I get a chance to look around a bit more this time. My memory of last time is mostly of driving past the research labs and then visiting a bookstore.


The real Stallion('s) Gate

And the fictional one.

I will take my computer along, and try to check in. Oh, and in case I seem to be putting out the welcome mat for burglars, let me assure you that John and Tuffy will both be home to defend our collections of swizzle sticks and tiki mugs.

*****



This palo verde tree near St. Michael's struck me this morning as being rather extravagantly in bloom. Since I griped last month about Tucson not really having a spring, honesty demanded that I take a picture for you. It was more impressive - and probably more allergenic - in person.


And the sign is covered up again. I don't mean to keep going on about it, but that thing practically makes me dizzy with its unpredictability. I think I understand the why of it, though. Father Smith told me recently that people from the city drive around, looking for violations of the sign regulation code. Until St. Michael's gets a variance, it will probably continue to sacrifice its famous sign - just half a foot over code - in order to display event-oriented ones as needed.

Just before midnight. Better.

Karen

Technorati Tags: Quantum Leap, New Mexico, Ethics, Tucson

Small Victories and Unexpected Sights

Your Monday Photo Shoot: Take a snap of something you've found surprising or unexpected. This could be anything from your normally combative dog and cat taking a nap together to a flower sprouting in a parking lot -- anything that you take a look at and say "well, there's something you don't see every day."

Well, this did surprise me, although probably it shouldn't have. I noticed this afternoon that the St. Michael's sign isn't covered up any more:



I should have expected this, because Father Smith preached about the sign on Easter. Even then, though, he mentioned that the sign was covered up. For the last week, the Holy Week schedule has been hanging there, and before that, the sign for the school. It makes sense that the Holy Week sign would be gone, but the parish office was closed today. So who did it, and when? I have my guesses. Maybe the "prophetic sign" will be visible for a while.
.


You saw another shot from this series yesterday, but here's the real black cat hanging out near a fake one. Definitely something you don't see every day.



And this was sitting by the door when I got home from work tonight. I knew John was looking into getting a new iMac, but I did not expect him to close the deal this quickly. We were able to do it because of this:


I'm not going to show you the unexpectedly large amount of the state refund that makes John's purchase more affordable. Let's just say that we both increased our state withholding last year, and it helped a lot.

I floundered quite a bit on Saturday and Sunday, trying to get together all the relevant numbers and bits of paper. John had gathered the main ones, but it seemed there was an infinite supply of additional numbers to track down. When did I get my eyes checked, and how much did it cost? Did I give to KUAZ in 2005? Where's that darn form with the...?

In the end, though, it didn't matter. I got enough of it to determine that the standard deduction was the number to use. And I got it done in time. My stress level, and the attendant digestive discomfort, have been receding ever since.

The other small victory of the last day or two happened at work. I got in some of the time I owed from my trip to Motor Vehicles last week. More important, I was productive today. I not only finally learned to take over a job a co-worker has been handling for me (long story; not telling it), but I got a reconciliation down from a-very-large-discrepancy to just $1.30. Not bad! I also worked out a more efficient way to do it, so the job will be less scary and time consuming in the future.

Dang, it's late again. Good night!

Karen

Technorati Tags: Monday Photo Shoot, unexpected, Photos, Episcopal, Tucson

Easter Conclusions

Thanks to everyone who left comments over the past 24 hours. Most of them were very much appreciated, and the remaining one upset and challenged me. Tonight I'm going to share five more pictures from Easter Day itself, and a few last thoughts before I go back into lurker mode on the subject of religion.

I figured out today the relationship between the people who nearly fill the church for the Easter Vigil on Saturday night and the crowd that does fill the church on Easter Sunday. On a Venn diagram they would overlap, about half of of the population occupying both circles. The Vigil crowd consists mostly of the hardcore St. Michael's parishioners, the people who attend most of the major holy days, who know that they're signing on for a very long Mass, but do it because they know how special it is, and truly want to be there. About half of them also show up on Easter morning. The other half, knowing that they've already attended one Easter service, leave the Sunday Mass to the remaining regulars, the semi-regulars, and what Father Douglas once called the CEOs - Christmas and Easter Only.

Toni Sue, our verger, greets my friend Eva,
who will be 101 years old in May.

I was scheduled to be crucifer today, and besides, I'd promised to give Eva a ride to church. No Easter morning lie-in for me! I don't regret it, even though I only had four hours of sleep last night. Some years the Easter morning Mass is almost a rerun, but not this year. It was a different sermon, and there was different music: a little Bach, and little Beethoven, and (mostly) Mozart! Organist and choir director Jane Haman conducted not just the choir, which tends to swell in size for holiday programs, but also what I guess might be called a chamber orchestra: strings, brass and timpani.

Jane conducts the choir and guest musicians.

Easter morning is typically when babies are baptized, as opposed to older children and adults. This morning there was a toddler and a kindergartener. The toddler sucked her pacifier and nodded in preparation for each dousing at the baptismal font - not as if trying to avoid it, but as if cooperating. I make no claims that the little girl had a clue what was going on, but she didn't cry, didn't protest. And what a cutie she was!

Baptismal party - including parents and godparents

The newly baptized.

Now I'd like to respond briefly to what Paul said in his comment about "indoctrination" by baptism, and about there being something very wrong if I get sick on Good Friday. I talked a little bit to the kid, perhaps ten years old, who was baptized last night. Toni Sue, who was herself baptized just last year, chatted with him and his dad for quite a while last night, and previously as well. The kid, Jason, was the very definition of irrepressible. He asked questions during the liturgy, and volunteered his opinions to anyone in range, before, during and after his baptism. There is no way he was merely doing what he was told, what his dad wanted him to do. He made the choice himself, and I think he had the right to do that.

The larger question is, does baptism--of a baby, a child, an adult--do any harm? Is there a reason to try to prevent it? Unless it's done under true duress, or as part of a cult that teaches people to worship some human maniac or suffer or cause some serious harm, I'd say the answer is no. If baptism confers the Holy Spirit, it surely is beneficial to the person, and to the world. If it does not, then the person just gets wet. As for indoctrination, Jason is in danger of learning that there's at least one parish in Tucson (probably many more than one) where the people are friendly and welcoming, and care about human rights and tolerance. He'll be exposed to such dangerous ideas as helping displaced Guatamalans set up medical facilities, saving illegal immigrants from imminent death, helping African refugees find a new home half a world away, and on and on. And oh, yeah: they also believe in Jesus, loving their neighbor and stuff like that. If Jason later decides that those aren't values he wishes to hold, he will be making an informed decision about it. The alternative to allowing the baptism of babies and children is to abridge the first amendment in a major way. As much as religion troubles him as illogical and potentially harmful, I doubt that Paul is in favor of going that far.

As for my digestive inconveniences of the past four or five days, I hope I made it clear that religious concerns are, at most, a contributing factor. I had the taxes to do this weekend, and I needed to go make up a couple of hours at work--and never got there. I'm fussing with two diuretics and cominations of minerals, feel perpetually guilty about diet and exercise, no longer have a gall bladder, and have chronic IBS. Trust me, Paul, giving up religion would not have helped my discomfort this weekend. It would only have stressed me out more.


But enough. I really hate wrangling about religion. I hate debate and strife and confrontation of any sort. So I'll leave you tonight with a nice little bit of cat blogging from someone who is terribly allergic to cats. John spotted this kitty in the next block early this evening, sitting near a cast iron cat sculpture. He turned the car around so I could take pictures. The cat got up from the sidewalk and lay down at the edge of the road, meowing at me. I meowed back, and took the shots. Here's one of them.

Karen

Technorati Tags: Photos, Episcopal, Tucson

Easter Vigil, and My Annual Illness

I got exactly zero comments to last night's entry about Holy Week at St. Michael's. This doesn't surprise me at all. People who care about the religious side of Easter are busy celebrating it themselves, and people who don't believe in such things are probably turned off by the subject. I can't really blame anyone for that. I get antsy myself sometimes when people talk about religion, pro, con, or, especially, trying to get people to subscribe to a particular narrow view of The One True Religion. So don't think of tonight's entry as an attempt to turn everyone into Episcopalians. Think of it as a photo study of Easter Vigil customs at one particular church in Tucson, AZ. It'll be reasonably painless, I promise!

. Gathering around the fire that lights the Paschal Candle

The Mass on the evening of Holy Saturday is technically called The Great Vigil of Easter, The Service of Light, and The First High Mass of Easter. The service itself is every bit as long as the name of it is. It starts outside the church, with the lighting of a small fire. The fire is used to light the Pascal Candle. Father Ireland (it's always Father Ireland for ome reason) lights the candles of the "torches" (candle-bearers), who in turn light little candles carried by the congregation. We enter the church as Father Ireland intones, "The light of Christ." We reply, "Thanks be to God."

Inside there is relative darkness for the first prayer. Then some of the lights come on and we hear some Old Testament readings: Abraham and Isaac, the crossing of the Red Sea, something called Salvation Offered Freely to All, and the most unusual of the bunch, the Valley of Dry Bones. "We only did four of the eight readings we could have done," Father Smith joked at the end of Mass, nearly three hours later; but it was true.



...and each man's son was baptised as well, a newborn and a kid.




Back inside the church, we hear in the the Gospel of Jesus' resurrection. This marks the end of the Vigil. The church is brightly lit, including the candles on the altar. The organ plays a fanfare. Two things we've done without during Lent - the ringing of bells and the word Alleluia - make their triumphant return. Those of us who forgot to bring a bell is encouraged to shake our keys!

Ring those bells!

I was going to say a few more words about Good Friday. I'm always sick on that day. I'm not quite sure why, but I think it has to do with stress and guilt. I'm technically supposed to fast, but I get too sick to my stomach of I don't eat. Even the thought of fasting, and the guilt of knowing I won't manage to do it, gives me digestive inconvenience. Plus there's all the stuff I'm not getting done this week while I'mat church, and all the stuff I haven't gotten done at work...you know, the usual.

But I was especially sick yesterday, particularly last night while serving as crucifer at the Good Friday service. I felt feverish, my gut hurt, my back hurt, and I was nauseous. But there I was, commemorating much worse suffering on my behalf. My discomfort seemed like a petty thing,so I did my best to ignore it and carry on.

I didn't feel that much better on Saturday, and in fact John didn't feel well today. Maybe we've got a bug. Plus I really think the diruetics and minerals contribute to the problem. I've been drinking "light" fruit juices and such all night. It seems to be helping a bit.

What about all this religion stuff? What does it mean to me? It means a lot of things - interesting rituals and people I like a lot, and the continual chance to try to connect with God. Over the years I've come to the conclusion that an important part of faith is just showing up. If you don't, there's nothing around to feed it. If you do, you may learn something or be inspired intellectually, even if you don't get some kind of emotional, transcendent experience, the kind I've always wanted but don't seriously believe in. Yet when I look inside for my mustard seed faith, it always turns out to be there after all.

I did have a moment in front of the cross on Good Friday that came close to having a major impact. It was that bloody wooden crucifix I showed you last night. As the crucifer, I happened to be lined up directly in front of it, just a couple of feet away, nobody between me and the wooden Jesus. I took the time to really look at it, and tried to imagine the real person, and what happened so long ago.

And maybe, just maybe, I started to feel a little better.

Karen

Technorati Tags: Photos, Episcopal, Tucson

P.S. It's time for me to do some kind of new fiction over on Messages from Mâvarin. But it's very late, and I don't have the time or inspiration. So I'm giving you the first scene of the third book, The Mâvarin Revolutions. It's not at all Eastery, but it's already written. By next week, I hope to have something new for you.

Welcome to My Holy Week

I'm not quite sure of the best way to handle tonight's entry. Aside from the fact that blogging about religion (aside from unadorned church announcements) always makes me nervous, there's a lot of ground to cover. Even if all I did was introduce each of the photos I want to show you, it would make for a very large, slow-loading entry. After all, like many of you, I'm still on dial-up. More important, though, I'm not sure I've processed the past two evenings yet. I need more time to ponder, and see what words come out of me after tomorrow night.

What I think I'll do for now is introduce the topic, show you a few key pictures, and point you toward the entry that announces the next Round Robin Photo Challenge topic: "holy."

Holy Week begins with Palm Sunday, but it's on the following Thursday that it really starts to get intense. In the Roman Catholic church I attended as a kid (St. Ann's in Manlius) it was called Holy Thursday. At St. Michael & All Angels Episcopal Church here in Tucson, though, it's called Maundy Thursday. I keep forgetting what Maundy means, if I ever knew it, but apparently it's derived from Old French and before that Latin. I'll just give you the Wikipedia entry and let you explore from there, if you care.

Washing of the Feet.

At St. Michael's, the Maundy Thursday service begins with sort of a Christian version of a seder meal, with lamb, pita, and even semi-bitter herbs. This is accompanied by prayers, hymns and liturgy readings. One parishioner from each table does the serving, and afterward, the priests go around and wash the feet of those who served. Then we enter the church, singing Shalom, O My Friends, and have the rest of the Mass. It ends with the stripping of the altar and a haunting musical rendition of Psalm 22.

Waiting up with Jesus: St. Michael's 11:30 PM.

On Thursday night, overnight, the leftover Sacrament resides in a vessel at the Altar of Repose. People come to the church all night long, usually in pairs, to pray and wait up with Jesus, in commemoration of the night at Gethsemane, when Peter, John and James kept falling asleep. Kevin and I usually do either the 11:30 PM shift or the midnight one. The church is a remarkably peaceful and beautiful place late at night. It's at this point that I try my hardest to connect with God, to make immediate again what is too easily dulled by repetition and nearly two thousand years' distance from modern life.

Not a plastic Jesus.

Friday is of course Good Friday. The altar is bare, with just one little candle behind it, under the hidden purple-draped cross. The Passion is sung by three principals plus the choir. Perhaps the most moving part is the Veneration of the Cross. A five-foot crucifix is held up, and people come forward, one by one, to pay their respects by proxy. Most kiss the statue's feet. Others bow, or make he sign of the cross, or just pause and move on. I watched people come up, and it was highly individual, the way different people responded to their close encounter with this rather grotesque piece of art. This particular cross is not of a sanitized, prettified Jesus. It's very definitely of the Suffering Christ. After the veneration, the cross is laid on the steps at the edge of the sanctuary, and people stand nearby to receive the "leftover" Communion. There is no Mass tonight, no Eucharistic Prayer to commemorate the Last Supper. That was last night. Tonight Jesus has been crucified, and is in the tomb.

After the service, Jesus remains.

Tomorrow night is the Easter Vigil. It's the longest service of the year, with the possible exception of the "Midnight Mass" on Christmas Eve (which at St. Michael's begins with a 10 PM concert). The Easter Vigil begins around dusk, with a small fire in front of the church. We process in bearing candles. The church is mostly dark as we listen of a number of readings. Eventually we come to the commemoration of the Resurrection. The church is lit, and we ring bells as borrowed musicians play triumphant music. The adult baptismal candidates end their months of study and prayers, and make their way out here:

The labyrinth, with the baptismal pool uncovered.

This is the St. Michael's labyrinth, used for meditative walks. The orange cones are marking a small pool, with is usualy kept covered. That is where Tim and Tim and I-think-the-third-name-is Charles will be baptized.

More tomorrow night, including Easter Vigil pics and the story of "my annual illness."

Karen


Technorati Tags: Photos, Episcopal, Tucson

Don't Take Away My Blog - or My Camera!

Weekend Assignment #107: Which recent piece of technology would you miss the most if it suddenly disappeared tomorrow? By "recent," I mean in the last two decades or so (if you didn't have it in 1986, you can't have it now). You can also consider tech which did exist in 1986 but wasn't in common usage. For example, the Internet existed in 1986, but no one except a few geek at universities used it. Any tech is up for consideration, whether it be consumer tech, medical tech, security tech, or whatever.

Extra Credit: If you were cut off from the Internet (like, say, me), how long would it take for you to go completely insane?

Same answer on the main qustion and the extra credit. Cell (PCS) phone? Eh. iPod? I can make do. Laptop? Slight tremor there, but a desktop computer is acceptable, as long as it's not a 1986 model (Commodore 64, Mac SE, or something that runs DOS). But don't take away my Internet connection, and more specifically, blogging platform (Blogger). I've blogged from a hotel across the street from Disneyland, I've blogged at work (shame on me!), and I've sure as heck blogged from home. Yes, I'd probably have a major meltdown in less than 24 hours if I couldn't go online.

I'd say more about this, but I really really really need to go to bed now. Church (Maundy Thursday and, later, vigil at the Altar of Repose) and Round Robin stuff have eaten up many hours tonight. I'm not complaining, but I have no ends left to burn on this candle.

One thing I do want to mention in passing is the other technological innovation that really matters to me. Back at the very end of February, you may recall, my Canon digital camera died on me. I immediately demanded a replacement for my birthday. Even a few days with just an outdated Mavica digital camera was surprisingly painful.



Speaking of photos, it's time to get this out of the way. In response to almost no demand, here are the answers to the Monday Photo Shoot identifications:




A) Seat of a plastic chair at ADOT MVD











B) potting material in base of large potted plant in hallway of Unnamed Largish Company













C) large, out of focus leaf of a totally different large indoor plant in a different hallway of Unnamed Largish Company
















D) button on soda-dispensing vending machine at Unnamed Largish Company










E) branch and needles of a large cholla cactus in front of St. Michael's.















F) unopened bottle of spring water on top of my refrigerator, with red print on the box behind it.


More later. Tomorrow is Good Friday, though, so my entry may be late and (relatively) short - like this one!


Karen






Technorati Tags: Monday Photo Shoot, Weekend Assignment,Scalzi, Up Close Photos

Hot Weather, Pretty Sunsets and Too Much Email

I have been whittling away at the email on my main screen name - the one I check obsessively a zillion times a day - ever since I got home tonight. I even got through a few of the messages during a break at work. The results are as follows:

• I've gotten that mailbox down from over 60 messages, if memory serves, to just ten.
• I've checked every announced Round Robin participant's blog at least once, and left comments on every RR entry I found.
  
• I've removed a picture of my foot after John griped about how you probably don't want to see that.
  
• I've gotten through several days' worth of FeedBlitz alerts, and most of my AOL Alerts
• I've spent at least an hour reading this thread, and leaving three comments.
• I've done a brief LJ entry about the above thread.
  
• I've stayed up too late again, and haven't posted here yet.
  

My plan for this entry was to string together the fact that it got up to about 90 degrees here today with the continuing wonderfulness of Tucson sunsets. I was going to consider at length the theory that it's worth suffering through 100 days of 100 degrees or higher (or whatever the actual stats are) in order to get the great scenery and sunsets and wonderful warm winters. But the heck with it. I need sleep more than I need to draw out the pros and cons of Tucson into a 2 AM essay. So here instead are some sunset pics I took on Monday. Enjoy.


I started with the automatic setting, and then proceeded to the "normal" sunset scene setting, followed by the "effect 1" sunset setting. However, I have no idea which setting was used on which photos, beyond the general idea that the earlier ones probably aren't "effect" shots...


...and the really purple one probably is an effect shot. I may have switched back to the normal setting at some point.


None of these photos have been edited, except for resizing.


Well, I guess it's worth the 90 degree day today. It may even be worth the hot summer to come.




Good night.

Karen

Technorati Tags: Photos, Blogging, Sunsets, Tucson