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tagsecretsanta · 3 years

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From @willow-salix

to @fallenfurther

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

Grandma Tracy might portray herself as a hip, cool, down with the kids granny to anyone that would listen but even she had to admit that she was a traditionalist at heart. Not in the way that many might expect, not in the boring way of not moving with the times when needed, she could work the holoprojector almost as well as John when it came to coordinating a rescue, she just subscribed to the ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ school of thought.

She knew that old fashioned things still had a place in the world, they still had a use, even when people thought they were antiquated and fit for nothing but a museum or a rubbish pile. She’d proven that to Virgil when they had been stuck in London with no technology whatsoever and since then Virgil had had more of an appreciation for the older things in life.

Traditions were important in her eyes, although rarely were they the common ones that everyone in the world did. Mostly because Sally Tracy did not follow the pack, she never had. She refused to do what everyone else did, to her traditions began at home. They should invoke memories of a time long ago and remind you of the things that were important. Family traditions, now they were the way to go.

She could vividly remember her mother singing along to the radio as they decorated the Christmas tree. They would drink hot chocolate and have a lovely time as they decorated, dressing up in the tinsel and talking, catching up on the things they might not have had time to talk about before. Always on the 1st of December, always with Christmas songs playing and always as a family. And Sally had made sure that she'd done exactly the same with her boys.

Now it was Christmas Eve, the gifts had been purchased and wrapped, the tree had been decorated and the family had just about escaped with their sanity after a month of non stop christmas songs on the stereo courtesy of Grandma. Jeff had been the only one brave enough to suggest that maybe they listen to something else but he had quickly backed down when she had speared him with a glare that could have stripped the paint off Thunderbird Two’s hull if she had been close enough to it.

It’s tradition, she said, one of the only ones she could count on since moving to Tracy Island. Beautiful as the island was, it was far too tropical to feel in any way christmassy and the only way she could get in the mood (or so she claimed) was by listening to festive music.

She missed feeling the days grow colder as summer lost its grip on the world and the crisp, chilly days of fall took over. Once fall was firmly there and you couldn’t leave the house without a sweater it was only a matter of time before the smell of burning leaves and woodsmoke filled the air and winter came nipping at its heels. The cold of winter, the first flurries of snow, brought with it the sound of carols, bells and the smell of baking gingerbread. She loved being wrapped up in warm clothes and feeling the icy blast of wind that stole her breath and she missed it when temperatures on the island rarely changed at all.

Rescues often made regular meals and time off difficult, they often interrupted family time and special occasions. The Tracys were used to it, but it did make getting into any kind of routine difficult and often meant that such things as birthdays and christmas felt unimportant. But not to Grandma, to her it was of vital importance and no one had better argue with her. Jeff, wise man that he was, had given up and retreated to his office, his almost soundproof door and peace.

Gordon was in London spending the day with Penelope for her birthday before they returned to the island that evening for Christmas. John was in Five as usual, finishing up preparations for a few well deserved days off (although he would probably be regretting his decision by dinner time Christmas Day), Kayo was visiting Kyrano for Christmas Eve and would return in the morning and Brains was wishing he had never walked into the lounge.

“Snow is falling, all around me, children playing, having fun,” Grandma sang, joining in with the video playing out on the holoprojector as she attempted to crochet a scarf figuring it was as traditional a pass time as any to indulge in, maybe it would be ready by next Christmas if she was lucky. “Come on, Brains, you know the words, join in.”

“B-but it’s not accurate for our climate,” he argued, never having been one to enjoy a sing-along like some members of the family. “There is never snow on T-T-Tracy Island.”

“That’s not the point, Brains,” she sighed, trying to untangle the yarn that insisted on knotting on her lap rather than in the carefully ordered way it should.

“It’s not?”

“No!” She tossed the scarf, all four wonky rows of it, onto the table, giving up for now before she was tempted to lob it up Thunderbird Two's tail pipe.

“I d-don’t understand,” Brains admitted, something that was very hard for him to do. He was used to being one of the smartest people in the room, if not the smartest, and now, here he was, not understanding a simple thing like this. Maybe he’d been working too hard?

“It’s not about the song, it’s about the meaning behind it,” Grandma explained patiently for what felt like the millionth time that December. “It’s traditional.”

“A song is traditional?”

“Well, yes, but not just the song, it’s the image it portrays. Christmas in my day meant snow, cold weather clothes, wrapping up warm, skating on a frozen lake, then coming inside to drink hot chocolate around a crackling fire and listening to carols on the radio with my mother as we waited for my father to get home. We knew that once he was home the holidays could really start. He worked hard and had very little time off in a year, only every other sunday, two days for Easter and Christmas Day.”

“Kinda like us then,” Alan muttered from his spot on the couch where he had been relaxing before breakfast, playing a handheld game.

“Yes, and because we have none of the weather here or the time off, not that I would want to be anywhere else, but the only thing that really makes it feel like Christmas is the songs. So we’re going to keep the music and you’re all going to like it.”

A new song came on and Grandma sighed happily as Alan groaned as if in pain.

“I love this song, it was one of my favourites,” she stared dreamily at the screen. “Oh, it’s Christmas time, mistletoe and wine. Children singing Christian rhyme. Isn’t he handsome? I wouldn’t kick him out for eating cookies.”

“Grandma!” Alan gasped, shocked to the core, his tone showing his disgust.

“What? Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t look and do a little window shopping. I’ve got all his albums, including his live concerts, it’s just not Christmas without seeing him on the TV. Here, I’ll show you. Just listen to him some more and I’m sure you’ll learn to love him.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, it’s Christmas.”

“That’s your answer to everything,” Alan grumbled but he put down his game and prepared to do his duty as a grandson.

“I’ll start you off easy with Little Town,” Grandma told him, pressing play.

***

“This comes to pass, when a child is born. When a child is born… oh, oh, o-” Grandma sang along to the fifth song of her playlist when, to Alan’s intense relief, John’s hologram popped up, replacing the music video that had been playing.

“International Rescue, we have a situation,” he started, then paused looking around the room, frowning when he saw only Grandma, Brains and Alan in attendance.

“A situation? Yes! I’ll get Scott and Virg,” Alan cheered, jumping up.

"That's not the reaction I usually get," John observed, wondering what could have brought about that sort of excitement so early in the morning from the brother who liked his sleep the most.

“Never mind that. What have you got?” Grandma asked, all business now, her Christmas spirit in song form now forgotten.

“Guests trapped in an ice hotel in Sweden.”

“Scott! Virgil! It’s safe to come up, the music’s off and John needs us to go to Sweden,” Alan yelled as he clattered down the stairs to the kitchen where the older two were no doubt hiding.

“A what now?” Grandma asked, ignoring Alan.

“An ice hotel,” John repeated. “The hotel was first built in 1990 in the small village of Jukkasjarvi, Sweden, now they rebuild it every year and add to it with a different architect for each room. I’m sure it looks very beautiful when you can actually see it and a freak snow storm hasn't covered the entrance then frozen.” He pulled up a feed to show what must have been the hotel but all that was visible was two large piles of snow.

“What are we looking at, John?” Scott demanded to know, jogging up the stairs with Virgil hot on his heels, Alan bringing up the rear.

John brought up a picture of the ice hotel in its normal glory.

“This is the Winter Heart Hotel in Sweden,” he began. The picture showed a beautiful backdrop of a frosty night with the northern lights visible dancing in the sky behind two pure white domes of snow which were obviously the hotel. They looked like elaborate igloos, connected by covered tunnels and slopes that had formed on the sides with big, wooden looking doors on the front of the domes. The snow sparkled in the moonlight and even though it was clearly freezing cold the whole place looked very welcoming. Little cabins were scattered here and there around the hotel itself, giving the whole scene a picture postcard feel.

“Looks great,” Virgil commented.

“That was it three months ago,” John answered before flicking aside the picture to replace it with the previous image. “This is it as of four hours ago.”

“Woah,” Scott breathed, his eyes tracking over the large mounds of snow that covered the domes so effectively they looked to be nothing but snowy hills. “What happened?”

“Freak snow storm blew in from the arctic circle and dumped around seven feet of snow on the hotel overnight. By the time morning came the fresh snow had frozen solid, trapping a number of high profile guests inside.”

“High profile?”

“The Winter Wonder charity concert happens there every year, people from all over the world pay big money to stay there and not just for the music,” John answered. "It's reported to be an amazing experience but not for the faint hearted. They keep the inside at a constant -5 degrees centigrade, although they do have warm rooms of the hotel such as bathrooms and some bedrooms. They should be fine in there for now, but we obviously need to get them out. The hotel itself has been trying to dig their way through for the past hour. They had a snow plow of their own but it broke a week or so ago and as no snow was forecast they hadn't rushed to replace it.”

“Any casualties?” Virgil asked, already walking across the lounge to his launch chute.

“None reported, apparently they have placated the guests with numerous free drinks and dinner, but unfortunately they are now reported to be getting a little rowdy.”

“Rowdy? Well it won’t do to keep them waiting much longer, will it? I guess we had better hit the skies,” Scott grinned, crossing over to stand in front of the wall where his launch chute was hidden, reaching up to grasp the light fittings that triggered the revolving door. “See you out there!”

“Alan, you're with me,” Virgil called, much to Alan’s delight. He dropped down in one of the bucket seats that would take him or a passenger to Thunderbird Three so he could suit up, grinning like a mad man, happy to be off the island for a few hours.

“I’ll send the coordinates and brief you when you’re airborne,” John told them as they all vanished, his hologram blinking out a moment later.

“Well,” Grandma sighed, turning back to the holoprojector. “Now that they have gone I guess it’s just you and me, Brains.” With a quick flick of her wrist she had turned the music video on, the sound drowning out Brains’ pitiful groan.

***

“Bulldozer Pod is go!”

“Alan, be careful with it!” John warned, his voice echoing around the pod cabin, as the bulldozer shot forward at a much faster speed than was sensible. His hologram popped back into existence to give their littlest brother one of his patented death stares when Alan dared to roll his eyes at him.

“I think I know what I’m doing, it’s just a little snow.”

“No, it’s not just a little snow, if you go too deep or too far you’ll risk taking out one of the walls of the hotel itself. It’ll register as snow, exactly as the rest of it does. Here,” John paused to send through the holographic map overlay he had just finished creating. The overlay settled on top of the map already in front of Alan from the pods scans, then sank down over the snowy mounds, now showing the outline of the buildings.

“Avoid the ice walls, I got it,” Alan assured him.

“Just make sure you pay full attention,” John ordered.

“I’ll be fine, go bug Scott, he’s the one you can’t trust.”

“Unfortunately there isn't just one, I can’t trust any of you,” John sighed and, against his better judgement, left Alan to his own devices.

Alan trundled forward a little slower than before, heeding the warning. He might be excitable but he wasn’t stupid and now that he had a better idea of what he was looking at and supposed to do he could see that he would have to be a little more careful.

As John had said, scans from their equipment were registering nothing but ice and snow, there was no clear definition between what was fresh snow and what had been there before and was part of the building. He could detect life signs deep inside the snow piles, as expected, but they seemed calm enough, their heart rates slow and easy, showing them to be totally relaxed.

He moved the pod closer to the huge wall of snow and maneuvered it into place, his plan being to work in a square, side to side, front to back, moving in closer and closer until the majority of the snow had been removed, allowing Virgil and Scott access to come in with a modified Sherpa Pod. The idea being to use the heat bank element to create what amounted to a high powered hair dryer to defrost the ice that had the guests trapped.

With his first run he plowed a wide path in front of the hotel a good twelve meters away. He checked the map overlay, calculating that he could manage two more full sweeps, working back and forth before he’d be risking getting too close and would have to hand over to his brothers.

Scott and Virgil were configuring the modifications to the Sherpa Pod when John called in to give them an update.

“Alan has removed the snow down to quarter of a meter from the doors, now it’s down to you guys.”

“FAB Thunderbird Five,” Scott answered, swinging up into the passenger seat of the pod. He’d finally grown out of his desire to drive every single vehicle he got into and had learnt that Virgil was, in general, a much more capable pod pilot than he was, although he’d never admit that out loud.

Virgil gave him that look that said he knew exactly what he was doing but, being the more peace loving Tracy, he declined to comment. Instead he climbed effortlessly into the driver's seat and settled in. He carefully guided the vehicle down the module ramp and out onto the snow, ignoring Scott’s impatient huff in response to his sedate pace.

“Slow and steady,” he quoted, knowing that snow was tricky terrain to navigate at the best of times and this wasn’t the time or the place in which to push their luck.

“The danger here is with the hotel itself,” John told them as Virgil made his way across the snow.

“How so?” Scott asked. “I thought the reports said that the hotel was stable.”

“It’s made of the very thing we’re going to be melting,” Virgil answered, checking his instrument readouts as he navigated up and over the snow into the ditch that Alan had excavated.

“Oh, yeah, good point,” Scott conceded. “So what’s the plan?”

“The snow fall isn’t the real problem here, the hotel can take the weight of it easily having been subjected to weight tests to ensure it could retain its structural integrity for these exact reasons,"John answered. "In this case all we need to do is concentrate on freeing the doors, the rest, as long as they take precautions, should be fine to leave in situ.”

“Got it, just the doors,” Scott confirmed.

“You’re going to have to go steady,” John warned. “There’s not a lot of clearance there, Alan has done his best but it’s going to be a delicate operation.”

“Steady is my middle name,” Virgil assured him. “I’ve got it under control. You just concentrate on keeping the hotel employees in the loop.”

“FAB,” John answered, blinking out as quickly as he had come.

Heat bank raised, Virgil worked the controls expertly, taking his time to melt away the snow that was left, being careful to keep it moving and only work on the front of the hotel where the doors should be, following the same map overlay that John had provided for Alan.

Alan, they saw, had done a thorough job, moving the snow far out of the way and was now using the loader and the pod’s caterpillar tracks to tramp down and spread out the snow he’d plowed, eliminating the possibility of the new snow piles posing a danger to anyone.

After only a few minutes of careful work the doors to the main entrance of the hotel began to appear through the snow as it melted away, sliding down the wood. Virgil checked the map one more time, realising that there was little more he could do without risking the ice of the hotel itself.

“I’m gonna have to get my exo-suit and do the rest by hand,” he decided, sounding like he was talking to himself, almost like he had forgotten that Scott was even there. Scott declined to comment, busy watching Alan work, pleased to see that, although the youngest Tracy sometimes had the same kind of offbeat humour as Gordon, he was as competent and sure as ever in his work.

Virgil turned the pod back to the module, not wanting to walk the entire way and, leaving Scott to reconfigure the pod to something a little more manageable for travelling across snow, he got himself into the mechanical suit.

Twenty minutes later a stream of grateful employees and guests came pouring out of the freed doors, all talking at once, jabbering away in excitement at seeing the mighty Thunderbird vehicles up close.

“Please, please come inside,” one waiter gushed, grabbing Scott by the arm and hauling him into the hotel. Virgil glanced at Alan who shrugged, it wasn’t like they couldn't be spared for a little longer. "My name is Felix, please, anything I can do, just tell me."

"It's OK, Felix," Scott started. "We don't need you to do anything…" he trailed off as they stepped inside, their attention instantly taken by their first look at the hotel.

“Woah,” they all breathed in unison, their eyes feasting on the beauty in front of them. They were surrounded on all sides by sparkling, crystal like slabs of ice that formed a lobby area that immediately opened up into an ice bar, a warmly wrapped up waiter behind the bar ready to take their orders. Several guests sat on fur covered ice chairs, sipping from thick glasses that looked to be crystal but were obviously made of ice too.

“This is just...wow,” Virgil’s eyes darted here and there, trying to take in everything at once. He slipped his arms out of the exo-suit and allowed the mechanical limbs to fold down alongside the suit against his back. Reaching out a hand he stroked the delicately carved face of an ice maiden, one of the many sculptures that were dotted here and there. “Can I have a look around?”

“Of course,” the waiter, Felix, who had invited them in nodded eagerly, clearly happy to be of service. “Come, I give you a tour.”

Virgil knew that he must have looked a sight, stomping down the icy walkway with his suit on so, with Scott’s help, he shed it and left his brothers to guard it while he followed the man who had already darted ahead.

Now that he was free of the cumbersome machinery he was able to navigate the icy corridors and smaller walkways with ease. He descended a staircase, again completely made of ice, something he found hard to get his head around as it all looked like crystal, and stepped into a high ceilinged room that sported the most magnificent chandelier he had ever seen.

The ice shards hung down in elegant lines that culminated in three perfectly formed circles. The artist in him was in awe of the work that had gone into creating something that was not only visually stunning but practical at the same time.

Walking through the rooms he saw more exquisite sculptures, fur draped beds in bedrooms that each had a different theme such as under the sea with giant ice jellyfish hanging from the ceiling, clowns, dancers, and solar systems. On the way to the beautiful chapel with its ice shard altar and fur covered pews, he saw a magnificent unicorn that dominated a large part of a hallway. Here and there he saw leaves, animals, birds, faces and flowers, all carved from the ice and snow that made up the hotel. It was, simply put, stunning.

He returned to find Scott and Alan, who had taken up residence in one of the warm rooms with cups of hot chocolate, surrounded by guests. Many of them seemed a little worse for wear after their extended stays in the bar areas where the drinks had been flowing freely in an effort to keep them unaware as to the predicament they had been in.

It seemed that the guests were also fans, their voices carrying that slightly raised, mildly slurred tone that drunk people got, as they peppered the boys with questions.

“We really can’t reveal any of our secrets,” Scott told them, sounding as if he were repeating himself for maybe the twentieth time.

“You eat?” someone popped up behind them and offered a delicious looking burger on a plate.

“Oh, don’t mind if I do,” Scott grinned, reaching to take it. “Thank you.”

Alan and Virgil happily accepted their own plates, diving in to take large bites, eager for some food that hadn’t been cremated by Grandma. Decent food was hit or miss on the island, but everything dished up was met with a general sense of trepidation until the first bite determined its edibility.

“Damn, this is good,” Alan mumbled, his mouth full.

“I’ll say it is,” Virgil agreed, his cheeks resembling hamster pouches as he answered with his mouth full.

"I am glad you like,” Felix smiled, looking rather proud of himself. “They are our speciality, made from our own reindeer.”

Alan choked, his eyes growing wide as he stopped chewing and stared at the burger. Reaching for a napkin he, as politely as possible, spat out the food in his mouth.

Virgil looked a little horrified while Scott just shrugged and kept right on eating. Scott counted himself as a foodie, he would try anything once, or even twice if he was undecided the first time. He had eaten in top restaurants around the world, in little cafes, from carts on the side of the road, anywhere and everywhere that there was food, there was Scott, willing and ready to try it.

“What?” he asked when Alan stared at him in disgust. “It’s a burger, plus it’s good.”

Virgil was obviously fighting some internal war between his stomach and his brain. On the one hand he was hungry and Scott was right, the burger was damn good, but on the other his brain was insisting on conjuring up visions of Santa and his sleigh. In the end his stomach won and he took another bite.

“Virgil!” Alan gasped, making Virgil wince guiltily.

“There’s nothing wrong with the burger, Al. They were good enough to feed us, it would be rude not to.”

Alan, clearly torn between his desire to not be seen as impolite and his desire to not eat Rudolph, was spared from making a decision by a sudden burst of music coming from deeper in the hotel. All three Tracy brothers groaned in unison.

“Is there a problem?” Felix asked, concern etched on his face. Had he given them a bad burger? Food poisoning? Insulted their ancestors? “Anything I can do to thank you, please do say.”

“No,” Virgil assured him. “We just recognised the music, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Felix smiled, clearly relieved. “That is the band beginning a last minute rehearsal and sound check before the concert.”

“Concert?”

Felix pointed to a holographic poster on the wall.

Alan’s eyes widened in recognition and he leant over to whisper to Scott. Scott listened, his eyes widening too as he realised what his little brother meant.

Clearing his throat he made his request. “Maybe there is something you can do for us, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course! Anything!” Felix gushed, pleased that the high profile Tracy brothers weren’t mad at him.

“Can you get us their autographs?”

Felix grinned, looking even more proud of himself than he had before.

“I can do better than that.”

***

Grandma hadn’t known what to think when Virgil had called home and told her that Scott was on his way back to collect her, telling her only to wear as many warm clothes as she could, but she had done as she was told.

Digging deep into the back of her wardrobe where she kept the clothes that had languished there for more years than she cared to remember, she had dragged out a thick winter coat and a warm top to wear under her customary onesie, along with wooly socks, gloves, scarf and hat.

She was waiting impatiently in the launch bay before Scott had even made it home and was soon comfortably installed in a passenger seat as her eldest grandson whisked her away into the unknown.

Virgil and Alan were there to greet them as they landed, a pair of ice skates in hand and identically proud grins on their faces.

They had spent a pleasant hour or so sliding around on the custom built ice rink. The ice, as with the hotel, had been imported from the nearby Torne River. Grandma was pleased to find that, although slightly rusty at first, she was able to take to the ice with a reasonable degree of competency, much better than that of her grandsons.

Scott was all long limbs and over enthusiasm, trying to go fast straight off the bat and failing spectacularly until he slowed down and figured out how to walk before he ran. Virgil was a little better, adopting the tactic of trying to place his feet carefully, as he would while walking, getting his footing before doing a slow first lap around the outer edge of the rink, gaining confidence the longer he was on there.

Alan it seemed, much to their surprise, had inherited her grace on the ice and took to it easily, executing an almost perfect first lap before streaking off across the ice like a bullet.

Skating gave way to an impromptu snowball fight started by Scott aiming at Alan and finished by Grandma who pelted the troublemakers with snow while Virgil held them in place.

“How about we head inside and grab a warm drink before heading home?” Virgil suggested, shaking the snow off his shoulders, thankful that their uniforms protected them from such a wide range of weather conditions.

“That would be wonderful,” Grandma sighed happily as they walked towards the hotel.

“I want to thank you boys for such a lovely surprise. Much as I love our home it’s been nice to feel snow again and experience an old fashioned Christmas eve again after so long of endless summer.”

“You deserve it,” Scott assured her, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Yeah, it was our pleasure,” Alan agreed, holding the still freely swinging door open for her.

Grandma experienced much the same wonder as they had as she enjoyed a tour of the hotel at the hands of the ever accommodating Felix, who had been more than happy to be her guide, showing her all the hotel had to offer.

It was beautiful, a true once in a lifetime winter wonderland of crystalline ice and exquisite sculpture that reminded her of the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, her favourite book as a child, when the White Witch had frozen all of Narnia in an endless winter.

Felix was happy to let her wander at her own pace, never trying to hurry her as she explored, her eyes taking in all there was to see. But, eventually, she grew tired and needed to rest, not being as young as her mind would have her believe. She was more than happy to be delivered back to her waiting grandsons with the promise of a hot chocolate in one of the warm rooms.

The function room was beautiful in its simplicity, decorated in a cozy cabin style with insulated fireplaces here and there which gave off no heat but looked perfect in the wood panelled room. There were comfy couches and wooden tables with rings of chairs dotted here and there, all arranged in a semi circle that faced towards the raised platform that was acting as a stage if the instruments there were any indication.

The room was still empty apart from five men sitting around a table, enjoying a quiet drink before the show started. They looked up expectantly when the door opened and the three Tracy boys led their special guest into the room.

Grandma had never been one to be lost for words before but there was a first time for everything and this appeared to be that time. She froze in the doorway, requiring a gentle nudge from Virgil to get her moving again. Her eyes were firmly fixed on one man as he put down his drink and moved towards them, a bright smile of welcome on his face.

“Hi there,” he started, holding out his hand, “I’m Cli-”

“Cliff Richard Jr!” Grandma shrieked, coming out of her starstruck daze to grab his hand between both of hers, yanking it closer, reeling him in for a smothering hug.

“Woah, easy there, Grandma!” Scott laughed as the singer’s arms flailed in shock. “Let the man breathe.”

Alan gently untangled Grandma’s arms from around Cliff, allowing him to back up and regain his freedom.

“So,” Cliff wheezed, straightening his tie and clearing his throat, regaining his composure before he bestowed upon her another dazzling smile. “Am I right in assuming you’ll be staying for the show?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Grandma!” all three boys yelped in shock but, thankfully, Cliff just laughed.

The music might not be to their tastes, in fact for Alan it was akin to torture, but seeing the look of joy on their Grandmother's face made it all worth it.

And wasn't that the true spirit of the season? Taking the time to think about others before you thought of yourself, spreading joy and happiness whenever you could.

Grandma was the heart of International Rescue, the heart of the house and the loving center of their family. She had always gone out of her way to look after them, now it was their turn to give something back to her. Something that she would never, ever forget.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #grandma tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #alan tracy #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #willow-salix #secret santa 2020 #tag team secret santa

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steve0discusses · 4 years

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Yugioh S4 Ep 14 Pt1: Rex and Weevils Ultimate Betrayal No One Gave a Damn About

Just finished watching the Superbowl, which I never ever do, and it was VERY confusing and I thought I remembered this sport but I did not. I don’t know what’s happening. I do not understand how Kansas City got that field goal on San Fransisco when their feet never touched the goal line. So, I’m just gonna...change gears completely and wrap up this long post about a VERY complicated anime that came out before some of y’all were born, instead. Today I just really wanted to feel lost.

Last episode, Yugi (the main character of the show, the one this show is named after) hella died, and Rex and Weevil decided to leave the party very, very quickly.

You’d think that the one event (Yugi’s dead) would have to do with the other event (getting the hellllll away), considering how rude and judgy Yami is, but they actually left for cards. They accidentally did a very wise decision in order to do something incredibly stupid and cancel out any wisdom they showed in pedaling as fast as they could possibly pedal away from the reincarnated ghost who just very suddenly achieved full control of a human body.

They accidentally pedaled away from every Mummy movie super villain and somehow ended up with a much more worse villain.

Like I say that this whole season is about Yugi’s crazy commute, but Rex and Weevil’s commute has just been so much more. They are just clinging to whatever vehicle is near them in order to find these legendary cards sitting somewhere in American Soil. They are so ambivalent to all the very real world terrible problems around them because they’re PRETTY SURE they’re gonna get rich. It’s like the Gold Rush but with helicopters.

Also the 49ers never rode tandem bikes, but you know they would’ve if they could’ve.

And for some, weird reason, Rafeal decides not to pick them up under his arms and toss them directly onto an unsuspecting Joey Wheeler like he just did with Yugi. Rafael and Alister decided...nah...I’ll keep these strange small manchildren.

It seems really off brand for Rafael and Alister but maybe they just got too tired to deal with it right now.

Speaking of tired--this horse.

I mean I’ll do the math eventually--not this post but maybe the next one I just did a lot of math trying to remember why the hell it’s 6 points for a goal in football--but this horse that we estimated would take over 20 days to ride to Death Valley just rode all the way back in the same day. Congratulations horse, the strongest force in all of Yugioh, (second to Yugi’s neck, holding that 70 lb necklace at all hours of the day.)

The girls seem to think that everything is OK initially, mostly because Yugi doesn’t really lose games that often, since the list of ways to beat Yugi in a card game up until now didn’t include “trick Yami into murdering the hell out of Yugi Muto.” Crazy that that actually worked, but Yami isn’t that bright.

PS please admire how chubby this horse appears in this scene.

OK I’m glad we all acknowledged the elephant in the room that was a horse last shot.

Also...maybe he didn’t hug her back because she just shoved a very sharp pyramid necklace straight into his small intestines?

(more under the cut)

I’ll spare you Transatlantacism this time.

Tea is concerned but more surprised than straight up angry. An anger which is more honed by Rebecca because Yami just killed her only friend (other than this horse) and possibly her only future husband that would ever put up with her (other than this horse.)

Like it seems kind of rude in the show out of context that everyone took a moment to lay a big dump on Yami Muto, but can you imagine if you straight up killed your twin (by accident but only by like 75% accident, lets be real) and this was your only punishment?

Like getting punched out is just how Yami treats himself every single day, so I don’t think Joey made too much of a difference in the situation. But you know, it’s Yugioh, so getting punched does is somehow the correct answer.

It was very lucky for Yami that Tea was too busy trying to console Rebecca to punch Yami before Joey got to him first because hot damn that would have sent him straight back to Death Valley.

And then I think this next exchange between Duke and Tristan was somewhat lost in translation. Please admire the censorship here. Safe for kids now.

I say this like a joke but have you seen Equinox? I live in the Bay, so trust me. Equinox is absolutely reviving the Great Leviathan. No doubt in my mind.

Anyway, Rafael and Alister hear Rex and Weevil’s plea to join the evil task force and they’re like...

...yeah, I guess you can apply, why not? No need to interview your or anything before we harass Darts with you.

Like Rafael and Alister were completely bonkers children that were driven to insanity by very extreme circumstances, and then there’s Rex and Weevil. They’re just...kind of middling at cards and that’s it.

But sure, yeah, I’m sure they’ll fit right into the completely maniacal card corporate atmosphere here at DartsCorp. I’m sure Rex and Weevil will jump out of a plane on a motorcycle and then do stunts all the way towards Atlantis Island.

Sure.

(course, now that I think of it, they did introduce themselves to Alister and Rafael by accidentally doing a stunt over a canyon onto a helicopter so...maybe they accidentally think Rex and Weevil are cool?)

Which, in hindsight, makes Mai make a hell of a lot more sense because y’all, they should be SO distracted right now, and shouldn’t let anyone in here who isn’t insane or insanely good at cards. But instead they’re like...I guess you have a duel disk, you’ll work. It’s not like there’s a line of people at the door.

Anyway, because the show has to acknowledge that there might be new viewers, they do their best to try and explain this very lengthy Yugi mechanic as if we’ve never heard it before and honestly, it just sounded like everyone was very frustrated.

Like for reals what is he wearing?

Why are there so few normal ass suits in Yugioh? Why is KAIBA the only person who knows what colors belong on a fitted suit? (And he just wears white, which isn’t a color and is always very safe but youknow it still boggles my mind that the power suit people are so into very friendly soft pastels from Gozaburo, to Pegasus, to Noah, to Darts.)

I would wear this suit to Easter Sunday. Darts just wears it every day.

And so then we get a little insight into what it takes to become an Orichalcos card champion.

While before, Darts just kinda poked Mai in the forehead and she was instantly imbued with Aqua Green Evilness, he decided to do a weird test on Rex and Weevil. Just to make sure they realllllly wanted to be here.

As if they didn’t stow away in a 18 hour flight stuffed into a handbag, hold in their piss for said 18 hours, then get shipped by accident to the Tenderloin, where they were mugged twice, and then get shoved into the trunk of Duke’s car, and then took a broken tandem bike to the hottest desert in America, where they then rode said bike off of a cliff in order to hang onto a flying helicopter.

Like I think this test was unnecessary, I think they want to be here.

But youknow, I think Darts just wanted to torture em for kicks.

And then Rex and Weevil have to grab two of these Oricalchos stones that were farting special effects and were very, very opposed to being owned by Rex and Weevil. But they managed to do it.

And uh congrats--their betrayal has begun!

And I don’t think anyone else on this show even recognized that they freakin left. Like they just kinda disappeared in Death Valley and then Duke was like “eh. They’ll find their way home.”

Kind of incredible that Joey and friends left these two stranded in Death Valley, That alone should have killed Rex and Weevil and like...Wow. Wow is Joey and co such a freakin asshole.

So don’t leave people stranded in Death Valley, they will join a card cult and freakin kill you. If the insane heat doesn’t kill them first.

And then because...I don’t know...I don’t know why, after sending his best and brightest fighters, Darts decided to downgrade and do this:

(based on a true story where a friend of mine worked as an intern in the city, and because they couldn’t pay him a living wage, he lived in a closet at said startup for nearly 2 years. Start-up culture is pretty real, folks, it’s PRETTY REAL. But, on the bright side, at least they had a shower in-house.)

So, I’m gonna go remove my contacts and try to forget how much queso I ate at that Superbowl party.

It was a lot of queso.

and if you just got here, this is a handy link to read these from the start.

PS anyone else pull the Yugioh fest in PAD? Because I have played this game...a lot over the course of 5 years and saved up over 300 free stones for several months in anticipation for this collab and then I pulled Kuriboh about 15 times. Most of you have no idea what that means, but for some of you out there, your heart just broke for me 15 times. (I did get 2 Yugis so I’m fine, but damn it) Then, bro saved up his stones and pulled Seto Kaiba, Marik, and Bakura all in a row. Freakin gotcha games, man. Freakin gotcha games.

#Yugioh #ygo #photo recap #episode recap #yami #yami muto #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #darts #rex and weevil #alister #rafael #duke devlin #tea gardner #S4 #Ep14 #rebecca hawkins #copernicus the horse

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lawrenceop · 4 years

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Holy Land Retrospective - Day 6

Reminder: clicking on the link for each photo (links are all in red text) will take you to the Flickr page where you can see the photo in larger sizes.

Start with DAY 1, or catch up with DAY 2, or DAY 3, or DAY 4, or DAY 5. Or just read on!

PHOTO 26: It was Saturday; the day of the Jewish Shabbat, a holy day when the highlight of the whole pilgrimage took place: we would have Mass at the Empty Tomb of Christ, in the church of the Holy Sepulchre. Appropriately, we made our way to the church in silence, processing through deserted city, and the church, too, was nearly empty when we arrived. After all, it was shortly after 4 a.m. (!) when we entered the city through Herod’s Gate and walked through the silent Muslim Quarter to the Franciscan monastery.

Moving some 250 people in silence through the uneven streets of an ancient city, before daybreak, is an impressive feat! But this silence and secrecy was entirely fitting. For the Gospels, too, are silent about what happened on the Saturday, the day of the Passover, after Jesus was crucified. St John says the following about the Friday on which Jesus died, the “day of Preparation” but concerning the Sabbath, nothing is reported – it is only alluded to:

“Since it was the day of Preparation, in order to prevent the bodies from remaining on the cross on the sabbath (for that sabbath was a high day), the Jews asked Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away... But one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water... After this Joseph of Arimathe'a, who was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus, and Pilate gave him leave. So he came and took away his body. Nicodemus also, who had at first come to him by night, came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds' weight. They took the body of Jesus, and bound it in linen cloths with the spices, as is the burial custom of the Jews. Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb where no one had ever been laid. So because of the Jewish day of Preparation, as the tomb was close at hand, they laid Jesus there.” (Jn 19:31, 34, 38-42)

From the Franciscan Monastery of the Flagellation, we began our quiet journey on the Via Dolorosa, sleepy but alert, praying the Stations of the Cross as best as we could. Somewhere in the crowd, Jim Caviezel walked with us, as together with him we walked the path of Jesus through the streets of Jerusalem.

At around 5:30 a.m. we prayed the last three stations of the Cross in the courtyard in front of the church of the Holy Sepulchre; in the distance, a cock crowed.

This photo was taken shortly after everyone had entered the church, looking back towards the way we had come; the minaret of the mosque of Omar looms overhead. For many of our group, it was their first time visiting Calvary and the Empty Tomb so I remained outside and I savoured the cool air of the morning; and soaked in the silence of the holy courtyard, traversed only by a cat or a monk; and I observed the colour of the sky change as the light of the new day came. Dawn at the Holy Sepulchre on an Easter Saturday: what a blessed moment!

PHOTO 27: We had a good hour and a half before the time allocated to us for Mass: time to explore, time to pray and reflect, time for Confession and spiritual preparation for Holy Mass. Ahead of us, saying Mass inside the Empty Tomb with a small group of pilgrims, was the Bishop of a French diocese, hence the doors are closed. During this time, one of our group took photos of these closed doors and she came and showed me the photos. One of them had the clear figure of a man robed in a white Jewish prayer shawl standing in the doorway, even though none of us had seen the doors even open! Take a look here and see what you think!

"I saw the risen Lord appearing to His Blessed Mother on Mount Calvary. He was transcendently beautiful and glorious, His manner full of earnestness. His garment, which was like a white mantle thrown about His limbs, floated in the breeze behind Him as He walked. It glistened blue and white, like smoke curling in the sunshine.” - Blessed Anne Catherine Emmerich’s vision of the Risen Lord.

The photo above was taken very shortly before we went into the sacristy to prepare for Mass. I had been watching the sunlight of the new day penetrate the darkness of the Holy Sepulchre church. The rays of light enter through the smaller dome of the ‘Catholicon’ (the Greek Orthodox sanctuary in the centre of the building), and then it strikes the little onion dome and cross of the ‘Aedicule’, which is this structure that envelopes and protects the Empty Tomb itself. As the sun ascends in the sky, the rays of light then travel downwards until it reaches the doors of the Aedicule, and penetrate into the Empty Tomb.

An hour after this photo was taken, I was standing inside the Aedicule, concelebrating the Holy Mass with my brother priests, standing around the very spot where the angel of the Resurrection had hailed the holy women that first Easter morning. And then, stooping to go into the Empty Tomb itself, I received the Eucharistic Body and Blood of the Risen Christ that was lying on the Altar, on top of the stone where Jesus had been laid and from which he had risen from the dead, alleluia!

This single moment, this sun-lit morning, all we had experienced so far on the 4th of May 2019, was probably one of the most unforgettable and spiritually intense moments of my whole life.

“Do not be afraid... He is not here; for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead”. (Mt 28:5-7)

However, in every Mass, we encounter the Risen Lord, and we are then sent forth wherever we may be, as though from this Empty Tomb in Jerusalem, to quickly announce the Good News: Χριστός Ανέστη! Surrexit Dominus vere! Christ is risen, Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

PHOTO 28: The focus of this photo is the olive tree, for we are on the Mount of Olives, looking towards the Holy City with the iconic Dome of the Rock, the Muslim shrine built on the very site where the Temple of Jerusalem once stood until the Romans destroyed it, as Christ prophesied, in 70 AD.

After Mass in the Holy Sepulchre, and after breakfast, we went to the top of the Mount of Olives to take in the view of the city, and then we descended the hill, waving palm branches and singing ‘Hosannas’ as we went; in a few hours we had gone from Easter morning to Palm Sunday! We made our way to the little church of Dominus Flevit where Jesus had beheld the city of Jerusalem, foretold of its destruction, and wept for its people.

Looking towards the city, one takes in its long and complicated and turbulent history; full of human strife and violence as the One the city had once hailed with ‘Hosannas’ was rejected, taken outside, and executed as a criminal. But, as St Paul says: “In him all the fulness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.” (Col 1:19-20)

In this photo, therefore, I wanted to show the city in its splendour and in its divided history, and also to take in the branches of the trees which the people had cut and waved to hail the coming Messiah. But above all, I wanted to focus on the olive branch, not just because it indicated our location, the Mount of Olives, but because it is a universally recognised emblem of peace.

“For the peace of Jerusalem pray: "Peace be to your homes! May peace reign in your walls, in your palaces, peace!"” – Psalm 122:6-7

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi: dona nobis pacem.

PHOTO 29: Continuing to mark Holy Week in one day, we went to Mount Sion after lunch, to the site of the Upper Room, the cenacle, where Jesus had celebrated the Passover with his disciples, instituting the sacraments of the Holy Eucharist and the Priesthood. In the same room, the Holy Spirit had came upon Our Lady and the disciples at Pentecost so that “out of Sion shall go forth the law, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem" (Isa 2:3).

So, that Saturday afternoon we stood in a 14th-century structure built on various iterations of a church building that has stood here since the earliest days, although it is now sadly just an archeological space, a museum since beneath it is the tomb of King David, a holy shrine for the Jews and I suppose they did not want a church right above. But in the 5th-century, this holy place was called “Sion, Mother of all the Churches”.

This name is fitting since it is here that the Church was born. As Pope St John Paul II wrote shortly after visiting this place:

The Church, while pointing to Christ in the mystery of his passion, also reveals her own mystery: Ecclesia de Eucharistia. By the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost the Church was born and set out upon the pathways of the world, yet a decisive moment in her taking shape was certainly the institution of the Eucharist in the Upper Room. Her foundation and wellspring is the whole Triduum paschale, but this is as it were gathered up, foreshadowed and “concentrated' for ever in the gift of the Eucharist. – Ecclesia de Eucharistia, 5.

The photo above is focussed on a carved stone capital from c.1335 that is part of the canopy over the platform where, perhaps, the altar would have once stood. This carving is interesting because of its Eucharistic symbolism. Over the past few days we have seen some other early Christian symbols such as the anchor, and the peacock. Here in the cenacle, in the place where Jesus gave us the Eucharist, we have the pelican. To be precise, two pelicans are shown plucking at the breast of the central pelican, and this symbol is known as the ‘Pelican in piety’. It was believed that pelicans would feed their own young with their own flesh and blood, and so this became an image of Christ feeding the Christian people: the Church receives its life from the Eucharist which is the sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood; Ecclesia de Eucharistia.

So St Thomas Aquinas prayed in his hymn, Adoro Te devote:

Pie Pelicane, Jesu Domine, me immundum munda tuo Sanguine: cujus una stilla salvum facere totum mundum quit ab omni scelere.

Lord Jesus, Good Pelican, wash my filth and cleanse me with Your Blood, one drop of which can free the entire world of all its sins.

PHOTO 30: Standing at the doorway that leads up to the cenacle, we look back towards the tallest building in the area, built on the summit of Mount Sion. This is the Benedictine Abbey of the Dormition, which commemorates the fact that Our Lady, the “Daughter of Sion” fittingly ended her earthly life somewhere nearby on Mount Sion. Psalm 87, therefore, although it refers to the holy mountain of Sion has also long been regarded as alluding to Our Lady. For the Lord has preferred her to all others and has dwelt within her; like a city whose walls are never breached, so has she remained ever virgin yet is the abode of the great King:

On the holy mountain is his city cherished by the Lord. The Lord prefers the gates of Sion to all Jacob's dwellings. Of you are told glorious things, O city of God! – Psalm 87:1-3

Saturdays, of course, are dedicated to Mary, so within the Dormition Abbey, we had gathered to sing glorious things concerning the Mother of God. As we headed back to the Old City of Jerusalem, passing by the Sion Gate, I stopped to marvel at the many beautiful roses that bloomed here. They were another fitting tribute to Our Lady, and a glorious end to our tour on Lady Day in the Holy Land.

Tomorrow: Reliving Easter Sunday at dawn by the Empty Tomb; Bethesda and Mary’s birthplace; Bar Mitzvah celebrations.

#Holy Land #pilgrimage #retrospective #206 Tours #reflections #photos

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onestowatch · 4 years

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Ant Clemons Is Just Getting Started [Q&A]

Photo By: Dominique Ross

Ant Clemons is ready for the spotlight. The LA-based singer/songwriter has been a budding songwriter in the LA scene for a few years now. He’s secured placements with Luke James, Kali Uchis, and Noah Cyrus to name a few. His biggest break was when he appeared on “All Mine,” track three on Kanye West’s 2018 project, Ye. Since then, Clemons has been nominated for multiple Grammys, collaborated with Pharrell and The Neptunes, performed with Kanye West at Coachella, and much more. But where did his story start?

Ant Clemons grew up in Willingboro, New Jersey. Willingboro is a small town about thirty minutes outside of Philadelphia. The oldest of three children, Ant described his childhood as a creatively expressive environment. Besides singing in his church choir, and his budding career as a Michael Jackson impersonator, young Ant would perform with his sisters at family events. “We wanted to be the Jackson Five so bad, but my parents only had three kids.” The creative gene came from his parents. His father had a famous falsetto and his mother was a trained dancer. Music was always played in their household. “I equate my childhood to The Cosby Show. We had some great times. I remember having amazing times at Christmas. Music was always on in the house. Someone was always singing or trying to sing.”

Clemons’ seemingly perfect childhood definitely had its share of trials and tribulations. Around 2009, his parents got divorced and he ended up moving with his mom to a small town called Pennsauken, right outside of Philadelphia. In the wake of the divorce, Clemons began taking his singing and songwriting more seriously. Shortly after moving to Pennsauken, he met Frankie Hill, Julian Tabb, Michael Stargel, Ross Richards, and Theo Robinson. Like Clemons, they were also into making music. Shortly after, they formed a group called The Committee. “To this day, they’re some of my best friends. We were all working on music 24/7. So, it was a great way to transition into my new surroundings and distract me from some of the things I was going through.”

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Being a part of The Committee helped Clemons sharpen his writing and singing skills. To make money, Clemons started waiting tables at a Red Lobster in his town. As his ambitions grew, he wanted to get closer to the music industry and make his career as a songwriter a reality. For a lot of people, the first step in that journey is tasking a trip to Los Angeles. Describing his first impression of LA, Clemons says “I only stayed for like a week and a half, but I knew from the time I walked out of LAX that this is where I needed to be. It’s nice all the time. Everybody was always smiling. This is the best place in the world. Like, I have to be here”

Lucky for him, his bosses at Red Lobster were extremely supportive of his dream. “They knew that music was my number one priority. So, when opportunities popped up in LA, they were more than supportive. They wiped tell me “go out there for as long as you need. Your job is here for you when you come back.” His family was also a major source of support for him. “Having supportive parents was everything. At the time, I was living with my mom. So, she was the main push, but both of them are just hella supportive of anything my sisters and I ever wanted to do. I know that not everybody grows up with that kind of support. But I had amazing parents that set an amazing foundation for me to just be whoever I wanted to be. None of my successes is possible without them.”

In 2017, Clemons made the full time move to LA. When he first got to LA, he was sleeping on couches and floors. Triangle Park, an LA-based music production crew, let him crash with them. But there was one caveat - He had to write one song per day. Reminiscing on that time, Clemons said “I just knew God wouldn't place me anywhere that I wouldn’t be able to succeed. I had a motivation get off the floor, so I was working really hard. Back when I lived near Philly, it was normal to make seven or eight songs a day. When I came out to LA, I saw that people were working at a different pace, so I put my head down and kept going. I learned that what I thought was normal was going to be the thing that set me apart from everybody else.

Things started moving for Clemons in Los Angeles when he met fellow Willingboro native, Ryan Toby. Ryan Toby was part of the early 2000s R&B/Hip-Hop group, City High. Bonding over music and their hometown connection, they started making music together. This relationship led to Clemons working with Luke James which is how he landed his first placement as a songwriter on “Drip.” Around this time, he was also introduced to the Producer Bongo By The Way. When they first got in the studio together, they made eleven songs and they were locked in ever since. Bongo would go on to introduce Clemons to Jeremih which was the catalyst for Clemons’ big break.

When Kanye West was recording Ye in Wyoming, he asked Jeremih to come to Wyoming and work on music for the album. One of the ideas he played for Kanye was an idea that he made with Ant Clemons. This idea turned into “All Mine.” It was at this point that Clemons’ life would change.

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Being featured on a song with Kanye West can instantly change your life and bring you a massive amount of attention. Describing that time of transition, Clemons says, “Ye’s album dropped in June and by September, I was with him 24/7. We went from Chicago to SNL in New York, back to Chicago, and then to Uganda. It was all happening so fast. It was crazy.”

Entering the orbit of a revered musician like Kanye West could be very unnerving, but Clemons said being around West was quite the opposite. “The crazy part of working on music with Ye was that he was just a big fan of whatever I was doing. He would say ‘Bro, I want you to just be you. Keep being you. Do whatever makes you, you. Just keep doing you.’”

Fast forward to Coachella 2019. Kanye West has invited Clemons to perform a song, “Water”, made earlier that week, for an Easter edition of Sunday Service. Describing that moment, Clemons said, “For me, it was like when the Jackson 5 performed with Diana Ross for the first time on the Ed Sullivan Show. It was amazing. I'm performing at Coachella for the first time by praising the Lord with one of my favorite artists of all time. God is too good”

“Water” would go on to appear on West’s gospel album, Jesus Is King, later that year. In recent years, West has shifted his musical focus to Gospel with the release of Jesus Is King and the upcoming Jesus Is Born. Knowing that Clemons is a man of faith, I asked him how his faith has helped him navigate the treacherous nature of the music industry. He said, “God’s timing is always immaculate, and I learned not to question what happens. If you have a strong relationship with God, he will lead you through any situation”

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A lot of artists would be happy living in the light of Kanye West. But Clemons has way more to do. Speaking on his transition from songwriter to a solo act, Clemons said, “I wanted my first official release to be something undeniable. I wanted something that showcased my songwriting abilities but was also relatable. I think “Four Letter Word” is such an amazing song. I want my music to be played now and ten years from now. Not only is it an ode to a relationship I was in but it’s about my relationship with God. I was happy to talk about it in a cooler way with up-tempo and contemporary sounds and being able to work with Timbaland on the song was a dream come true. My goal for the project was to tell my story and approach it like the artists I was inspired by.”

His debut EP, HAPPY 2 BE HERE has something for everybody. “I wanted to tell my story. I wanted to take the listener on a journey with cool concepts. I wanted to talk about love. I wanted to have something people could dance to. I wanted to tell stories. Most importantly, I just wanted to create songs people could listen to every day.”

I would say Clemons has achieved his goal. Look out for more music and collaborations from Clemons. Stream HAPPY 2 BE HERE below.

#Ant Clemons #Happy 2 Be Here #Soul #Q&A #Kanye West #Aladdin #Mama I Made It

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debra2007-blog · 4 years

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An Abomination (3 of 3)

Setting the record straight about the birth, death, and resurrection of Yeshua. February 5, 2020The astronomers (wise men) were from the city of Babylon, which is now about 55 miles SW of Baghdad in modern Iraq, watching the stars toward China in the East.They then traveled West toward Judea. I believe that there were maybe 12 astronomers, accompanied by maybe 18 armed guards for protection that traveled from Babylon to Jerusalem. It was not just 3 so called wise men, traveling alone, carrying a king’s ransom. The caravan of maybe 30 men traveled 70 days, 1,700 miles, and arrived in Jerusalem more than a year after Yeshua was born.

The society of astronomers were carrying out the last will and testament of Daniel, who was very rich, and had willed his treasure to the Messiah, who would be born 517 years after Daniel’s death, if he died in 520 BC. Daniel wrote down what star alignments to look for.

Luke 2: 21-2421 And when eight days were accomplished for the circumcising of the child, his name was called Jesus, which was so named of the angel before he was conceived in the womb.22 And when the days of her purification according to the law of Moses were accomplished, they brought him to Jerusalem, to present him to the Lord;23 (As it is written in the law of the Lord, Every male that openeth the womb shall be called holy to the Lord;)24 And to offer a sacrifice according to that which is said in the law of the Lord, A pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons.

Let me explain. Eight days after Yeshua was born, He was circumcised. Forty days after Yeshua was born, was the fulfillment of the 40 days of Mary’s purification. Notice the sacrifice that Joseph and Mary gave. Two turtledoves or two young pigeons was a poor man’s sacrifice.

Forty days after the birth of Yeshua, the astronomers, which people mistakenly called wise men, had not arrived yet, because the family of Joseph was still poor.

Now, let’s go to Matt 2:7-127 Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, enquired of them diligently what time the star appeared.8 And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also.9 When they had heard the king, they departed; and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.10 When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.11 And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshiped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense and myrrh.12 And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way. Mary and Joseph lived in a house, and not a sukkah, when the astronomers came. As I understand, the sign that Daniel told the astronomers to look for was the planetJupiter, to come into conjunction with the star Regulus, in the heart of constellation Leo, the Lion. They were to look for this sign to appear seven times, starting on the 1stevening of Tishri. On the night of September 12th, 3 BC, marked the Hebrew day of Trumpets, the first evening of the 7th month. This was the sign that a mighty king would soon be born. In the next 14 months, this sign would be given 6 more times. So on the seventh sign, the astronomers packed up Daniel’s treasure, and traveled 1700 miles, 70 days, from Babylon, arriving in Jerusalem in early March, 1 BC, about a year and a half after Yeshua was born.

The so called wise men and their travel guards were sent to Bethlehem by King Herod the following morning. When they got there, about an hour later since it was only 5 miles away, they could not find the family of Yeshua. That evening, they again saw the star in the sky, but this time, it lead them on a three day journey north, 72 miles to the city of Nazareth. How do I know this?

Let’s go to Luke 2:39 39 And when they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned into Galilee, to their own city Nazareth.

After Mary’s 40 days of purification, and sacrifice in the Temple, the family of Joseph left Jerusalem and went back home to Nazareth, and the astronomers had not left Babylon yet, and not for another year. That’s why Herod had the boy babies killed that were two years old and younger. The first sign given was 1 ½ years earlier. Herod felt that killing the babies 2 years and under, that he would cover all possibilities. The riches that the family of Yeshua was given was to sustain them comfortably, while they were exiled in Egypt. Daniel was a eunuch, and had no family. He willed his estate to the Messiah, who would be born more than 500 years later. Yehovah, looked into the future, and provided for His son, Yeshua.

The Catholic Church is more than 75% Babylonian sun worship. The flood of Noah was in 2611 BC, and ended in 2610 BC. 101 years later, in 2509 BC, was the Tower of Babel, and the dividing of the continents. Nimrod was worshiped as a god, and his wife, Semiramis, was worshiped as the queen of Heaven.

Shem, a son of Noah, killed Nimrod, and scattered his body parts across the land. About seven months later, Semiramis became pregnant. So to cover herself, she proclaimed that Nimrod merged with the sun in the sky, and his sun rays made her pregnant. The child that was born was a boy, who she named Tammuz, and the sun in the sky was his father. Tammuz, and his mother Semiramis, were worshiped. But on his 40th birthday, Tammuz was killed by a wild pig. So every year after that, the religion priests instituted 40 days of weeping for Tammuz, by giving up an earthly pleasure so that Tammuz could enjoy it for those 40 days. When Yehovah scattered mankind across the Earth, these practices went with them, and have been with us for thousands of years. Even while Israel was in Canaan, it became a problem. Ezekiel 8:13-15 13 He said also unto me, Turn thee yet again, and thou shalt see greater abominations that they do.14 Then he brought me to the door of the gate of the Lord's house which was toward the north; and, behold, there sat women weeping for Tammuz.15 Then said he unto me, Hast thou seen this, O son of man? turn thee yet again,and thou shalt see greater abominations than these. Much of the teachings of the Catholic church is an abomination against God. Also, not only did the Catholic church change the date of Yeshua’s birth, they alsochanged the days of His death, burial, and resurrection. The catholic church gave worship to the Babylonian fish god Dagon, associated with the eating of fish on Friday.

That is where we get the term, good Friday. The Catholics also gave worship to the sex goddess Semiramis, also called Ishtar, renamed Easter.

Semiramis, the wife of Nimrod, and the mother of Tammuz, supposedly died, went to heaven, came back to earth in a large egg, landed in the Euphrates river, and turned abird into an egg laying rabbit. You know her as Easter, the sex goddess, and how rabbits were able to lay Easter eggs. The Catholics made Easter Sunday the resurrectionday of Yeshua, two days after Good Friday. How many of you “so called” Christians are going to continue to engage in the pagan ritual of the 40 days weeping for Tammuz, which the Catholic church renamed Lent. It is an abomination against Yehovah.

Matthew 12:39-41 39 But he answered and said unto them, An evil and adulterous generation seeketh after a sign; and there shall no sign be given to it, but the sign of the prophet Jonas:40 For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.

Yeshua said that He would be buried in the grave for three days, and three nights, and would be raised on the third day. Yeshua was crucified on Wednesday, April 28, 28 BC. He was put in the tomb about 5:30 PM. At 5:30 PM Thursday was 1 day, and one night.

At 5:30 PM Friday was 2 days and 2 nights. At 5:30 PM Saturday was 3 days and 3 nights,being 72 hours, and Yeshua rose from the dead, about 5:30 PM, Saturday May 1st, 28 BC. The Lord of the Sabbath, rose from the dead on the Sabbath, the 17th day of the month Aviv.

Therefore, the 10th day of the month was on Saturday, the weekly Sabbath, when Yeshua rode on a donkey into Jerusalem. There was no palm Sunday.

Passover that year was on Wednesday, so after sundown that day began the feast of Unleavened Bread. Let’s go to John 19:3131 The Jews therefore, because it was the preparation, that the bodies should not remain upon the cross on the sabbath day, (for that sabbath day was an high day,)besought Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away.

Let me explain. Because King James of England had gentiles translating the scriptures instead of Jews, we have this problem. The first day of every seven day feast of Israel is considered to be a high Sabbath. The 7 day feast of unleavened bread began at sundown after Passover, Wednesday night, which was a high Sabbath. The verse is not talking about Saturday, the weekly Sabbath, but a special day, the high Sabbath, the first day of unleavened bread. On the 2nd day, Friday, the women went to the shopping mall to buy spices. Also on Friday, the chief priests went to Pilate to have him put a Roman seal on the tomb of Yeshua. A Roman seal was a 2 inch hole drilled through the stone, and maybe 6 inches into the side of the tomb at a downward angle. Hot lead would be poured into the hole, and an iron rod inserted. When the lead cooled, the iron rod prevented the stone from ever being rolled away, unless you had 90 tons of force to shear both the iron rod and solid lead. A squad of soldiers was also guarding the tomb day and night.

Yeshua rose and left thru the walls of the tomb about 5:30 PM Saturday, being invisible. About 12 hours later, before dawn on Sunday, the mighty angel rolled the stone away, shearing the lead and iron, which can still be seen today. The soldiers saw it and fell to the ground scared. Maybe an hour later, Mary Magdalene saw Yeshua and tried to embrace Him.

John 20:17Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God.

When Yeshua died on Wednesday, 24 graves in the Mt of Olives cemetery outside of Jerusalem were opened. At sundown on Saturday, after Yeshua rose from the dead, He resurrected those 24 saints, and they walked into the city of Jerusalem. Yeshua was now both the High Priest, and King. The duty of the High Priest was to stay secluded in Mt. Moriah from the beginning of Unleavened Bread, until the First Fruits offering was given on the Temple Mount about 10:00 AM on Sunday. Yeshua took the 24 saints to Heaven Sunday morning, to present them as the first fruits offering to Yehovah. They are the 24 elders that you read about in the book of Revelation. Yeshua returned to Earth maybe an hour later when His disciples could then touch Him.

Luke 24:13-1513 And, behold, two of them went that same day to a village called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem about threescore furlongs.14 And they talked together of all these things which had happened.15 And it came to pass, that, while they communed together and reasoned, Jesus himself drew near, and went with them.

Therefore Palm Sunday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday are Catholic pagan holidays.

YOU SHALL KNOW THE TRUTH AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE!!!

DO YO WANT THE TRUTH OR DO YOU WANT TRADITION?

Love, Debbie

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erinelezabeth920 · 4 years

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Love in the Time Of

Anxiety. Is the first thing that comes to mind. Exhibit A- yesterday I woke up at 10:30 am. A thing unheard of for me without being out to 2am the night before, which rarely ever happens anymore. I generally like mornings. And it was Easter. And it was sunny and beautiful as all get up outside. I’m not a devout Christian, but I grew up going to church; I am closeted very spiritual, and I like human stories, community and meditative spaces. Therefore, Easter is usually the one day a year I like to go to church. It’s just a me thing; I was lucky to grow up in a progressive church so the guilt and pentinance thing doesn’t really bother me. My family was also just as likely to go out to breakfast at the local diner on a Sunday morning as we were to go to church. I think it was really just about the intentional time. (The hilarious part being that I grew up in a small town in Upstate New York, so we would have to leave the diner by 10:30 when church got out and the weekly patrons filed in for their cup of coffee and eggs tittering “oh HELLO Dunn family! We missed you today...” My dad would have his watch timed for a perfect exit. Today, empty nesters, my parents are devout patrons at what they call the Church of Danny Wegman, a Sunday morning grocery shopping ritual at Wegmans for any upstate New Yorkers out there. According to them, they’ve even converted a few friends.) So anyway I woke up at 10:30 and stayed in bed until 11:30. Christ has risen, but Erin definitely did not. The stone was rolled away to find me still lying in bed. Eventually I roused myself out of sheer hanger to eat leftover pizza and pour some cold brew from a can into a glass. I muttered something angry to Andy about playing video games and not making me breakfast because it was Easter so he should just KNOW that I wanted to wake up to a nice breakfast without any communication on my part. Duh. Ressurection indeed.

I was feeling hungry and sad and weird. You know that feeling when you sleep so much your body is confused about what time/ day it is and anything you should be feeling? Plus add the quarantine and the fact it was Sunday after a break from work aka Sunday scaries and the apartment was super dirty, because I’d been avoiding cleaning all week. I resented the sun outside, high in the sky, wishing I could roll back the clock four hours and calmly and serenly watch the sunrise out my window with the meditative curl of steam from my tea under a blanket, my cat softly lying next to me, contemplating the newness of the world. But it was almost noon, so here we are. After I ate my cold pizza and cold brew I got back into bed, waiting for Andy to be done with his video games and check on me so I could leech his energy. I laid in bed hating myself with inner monolouge like “Bitch, if you were single HOW do you think you’d be getting out of bed right now? Strong independent woman my ass” (Answer: I wouldn’t.) Credit to Andy though, he’s nothing but supportive and reliable even when I’m shooting angry looks across the apartment for no reason over my cold brew as he chats away merrily with his brother via Fortnite.

“I’m stuck,” I said as I laid under the covers. “I need an energy push. I want to stay in bed forever.” “Either not moving or going somewhere far away,” Andy said gently, nailing my reactions to anxiety (I had stayed up late the night before Googling School Psychologist jobs in small towns across the state). He laid down with with me for a moment, and then began breathing deeply vis a vis Terry Crews about to lift something gargantuous. “OKAY, HERE WE GO!” he yelled, and ripped the covers off, pushing me off the bed, pulling me up and and shoving me toward the bathroom with a towel. Again, credit to Andy.

The shower made me feel better. I think under all the anxiety and negative self-talk, I was really just sad. Easter has never been a huge holiday, but I always liked it in a kind of personal way, just connecting with spring, new beginnings etc. I missed my family I guess or any sense of celebration. And I get this thing like, I am a mental health professional, I teach yoga, therefor I shouldn’t have hard times during this, because I am above such petty emotions. (Logically it makes no sense, but the way our brains work it makes perfect sense.) I put on a nicer ish sweater and ripped jeans. Easter Sunday best, it’s all about doing the best we can. Our friends knocked on the door, and came in to stand safely in the doorway with a boquet of flowers and a bag of fried dandelions (what? but they were delicious I’ll have you know.) “Happy Easter!” they said. My towel was still on my head. My eyes would have almost teared up if I had been alert enough to feel emotions fully. They hung out for a bit in the doorway, pet the cat, then headed out. One of my friends had said he was practicing sleeping in to prep for a night volunteer shift, but only made it until 9:45 that morning. It made me feel like a lump. As they left, we said we’d go on a walk with them later. We didn’t. Flakiness doesn’t stop during a quarantine.

(flowes, fried dandelions and Felix) Andy made eggs after I complained he hadn’t made me breakfast (to which his response was, ‘I asked if you wanted breakfast and you grunted and went back to sleep.” Well... my anger is completey justifiable. Obviously.) We watched Lego Masters- Star Wars episode. It was really good. The sun fltered in. I wanted it to go away, or I wanted to have the energy to go out in it. I had a headache. My jaw hurt. I laid on the couch and read for hours intermittently scrolling through my phone and checking how many people had viewed my Instagram story, and then immediately hating myself for scrolling through my phone, until we finally found the motivation to do some cleaning while listening to a DnD podcast. That felt nice. Then we went on a walk still listening to the podcast. The characters were fighting a giant invisible spider. I felt tired, and noticed how far you could see into the foothills of the mountains. I’m scared, I said to Andy, that when things return to normal I’ll be sad. Not for like the deaths and economy and stuff, but this- that we can see so clearly to the mountains. What happens when that’s gone? We were going to cook, but felt lazy. We orded sushi. It was okay. We watched Return of the Jedi. During the Lego Masters episode one of the teams had built the battle of Endor and made all the Ewoks’ primitive weapons. It was cool. I liked all the trees and ferns. I wondered about Carrie Fischer in her skimpy Jabba outfit, how did she feel around all those men? I contemplated searching Pornhub later for spin offs and then felt weird about it. We drank wine. We turned the lights off. The cat meowed at the door to explore outside. I was annoyed at him, so Andy took him out. Andy went to bed. I laid on the couch and listened to a Brene Brown podcast about anxiety, My jaw still hurt. Anxiety she said, manifests in two ways. I thought okay Brene, sometimes you annoy me, because not to be pretenious here, but I know more about psychology than you. But you have a real way of getting people to listen. So I’ll listen. The two ways, she explained, are over and under performing. Over performers tend to do a million things, check off to-do lists, always have a task, something to be doing to stop themselves from feeling (I’m looking at all you bread makers. Just kidding, baking bread is a completely wholesome way of coping with free time, and really I’m just jealous...)

Underperformers on the other hand tend to shut down, need help from others, seem helpless from the outside, tend to fold under pressure, exuding low energy. Neither is better than the other, although society definitely favors the over performers. But in reality, both are just a way to avoid anxiety- keep it lurking in the shadows like the monster of a horror film, instead of bringing it out into the light. And we all know the suspension of an unknown movie monster is so much worse than after we’ve just seen the damn thing.

Then she went into birth order; first borns tend to be more over-performers with last borns more under-performing, which is fine and probably pretty true and all, but I don’t totally subscribe to those things as pre-destined. But I did like finding a name to a feeling or habit. Naming is the first way to remove power. I had been drastically underperforming all day. And it’s not even my fault. It’s just anxiety- that all of us have, lingering in the peripherals, and our habitual responses.

And honestly, that’s okay. I’d spent time with my partner. I’d seen friends and been the recipient of kindness. I’d gotten outside. I’d cleaned the apartment. We’d had dinner and watched a movie. We were fed, healthy and both have jobs. I’d even called my parents before they went to sleep to wish them happy Easter. Why can’t that just damn be enough?

Before I went to bed, I watched an online Easter church serivce from a local church. It was awkward. The pastor filmed himself walking around a cemetary. And yet, somehow, it felt nice. I felt a tiny bit part of something.

Check the facts honey. It is enough. It’s always enough. You’re enough.

And that’s love in the time of.

#mental health #quarantine #seattle #writing #non-fiction

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gdialex · 5 years

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Hello, Mr. LOGAN WAGNER. My name is Detective Booth and I’m handling this case. I don’t need to go into details; you know why you’re here, and we already have you down as a suspect in her death. We’ve got witnesses to corroborate and a budding timeline, but we need more information from you directly. Make my day easier and cooperate with me on this, will ya’? I just need you to answer these questions for me. Do me a favor and don’t lie – you’re talking to a trained professional right now, I’ll be able to pick up on certain things whether you realize it or not. Lying will only come back to bite your ass later on. Just some food for thought. Let’s begin.

logan, quite frankly, was already bored of this conversation. he had plans with a girl (( and she was a french exchange student, so it’d a real fucking tragedy if he couldn’t make it )), and he was anxiously glancing at his watch every two minutes. she didn’t seem like the type of girl to reschedule.

Q: I’m gonna’ start light. I hate interrogators who go straight into the hard stuff, ya’ know? I find it impolite. So, tell me a little about yourself. Give me your full name.

“logan wagner.” he glanced down at his watch and then looked back up at the detective, grinning, “but my friends call me the notorious a.s.s.” booth didn’t look amused, but logan just snorted. that made two of them, buddy.

Q: Alright. Tell me your date of birth and age.

“october 8th. twenty-one.” he leaned back in the chair and placed his hands behind his head, “but what you should really write down is that i’m a libra. i’ve been told that makes me very happy, and happy people don’t kill people. that’s like legally blonde 101.”

detective booth squinted at him, “is this a joke to you? you’re being interrogated for murder.”

logan leaned forward onto his forearms and shook his head, face somber, “sir, i never joke when it comes to reese witherspoon.”

Q: Where did you grow up? What was your home life like? Tell me about your family and your upbringing. Give me your story.

he didn’t really see how his childhood was relevant to morgan’s death, but there were few things he loved more than talking about himself. “i’m what you call...a scientific marvel. my mom was inseminated by some guy i don’t know––make sure you write that part down––and then i was raised by a string of nannies and my grandma. mom popped in from time to time to express her disappointment in all of my life choices, so don’t worry. you know, come to think of it, i think she’d like you. i could give you her number, but be forewarned, she’s kind of a ballbuster.”

Q: Tell me about the most impactful people in your life. I’m not picky – they can be good or bad impacts.

“kanye west changed my life.” he glanced down at his watch again and tapped his foot against the ground to the beat of the ticking clock in the background.

“do you have somewhere to be, mr. wagner?”

sighing, logan nodded his head and drummed his fingers on top of the cool metal table, “yes, actually, i was supposed to meet this girl at my place, and she was going to bring chocolate sauce and whipped cream––and we weren’t having ice cream if you catch my drift, so i’m sure you understand why i’d appreciate it if we could hurry this up.”

detective booth stared at him for a long time before sighing and turning the page in his notebook, and logan couldn’t help but grin.

Q: What are your goals in life? What would be your ideal final ending? What would help you reach these goals?

booth already looked sorry he asked, and logan supposed that was fair. he didn’t really seem like the kind of guy who had goals, but that was just objectively not true. “don’t laugh ‘cause it’s kind of a sensitive issue for me, but i’ve always wanted to get my name to the top of the scoreboard on the galaga machine at the movie theater. i’m this close, but this little fucker comes in with his babysitter on sundays and steals my spot every time. now, i know what you’re wondering, and the answer is yes, i did sleep with the sitter, but i’m not proud of it. i don’t want to win like that.”

Q: How would you describe yourself?

“i think scientific marvel just about covered it.”

Q: What do you do in your free time? What’s your idea of fun? What sports or extracurriculars are you in at Hyland University?

“i’m on the hockey team, but my main passion in life is puppetry.” he paused and tapped the table, “write down that i said that ‘with impish mirth in my eyes’. i don’t want people thinking i’m a serial killer.”

Q: Do you drink? Smoke? Take drugs of any kind? Answer carefully on this one, kid.

“i dabble in the art of tequila and weed.” he cleared his throat and leaned closer to the camera, “allegedly.”

Q: Tell me about the relationships in your life. Friendships, romantic, everything in between.

he cracked his knuckles and hummed thoughtfully in the back of his throat, “where to begin, where to begin. i like to refer to myself as a serial short-term monogamist because that sounds better than being a hoe.” tapping his fingers on the table, he shrugged his shoulders slightly, “i have one best friend. eden rose. you’ve probably already interrogated her, and i agree with your assessment: she’s way too good to be hanging around me.”

Q: What’s the best thing that has ever happened to you? What’s the worst?

he hummed and leaned back in his chair, wishing that he had something to comfortably rest his feet on to completely sell his pose. “best thing? rachel monroe. worst thing?” he paused and pulled a face, “rachel monroe.”

Q: Let me throw in a fun one, lighten up the mood. Would you rather only be able to tell the truth or only be able to lie?

“i’m a firm believer that lying always solves all your problems.” he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, “except for, you know, in a murder investigation.”

Q: Did you kill Morgan Parrish?

“uh,” logan blinked and stared at the detective, “are you actually serious?” booth didn’t say anything. “no, man, of course not. i didn’t have any reason to kill her.”

Q: Let’s get some background information on this. How do you know Morgan Parrish?

“she’s my cousin. don’t you have a file on her family, my dude? it seems like you guys don’t really know shit about her life––which is weird ‘cause morgan made sure everyone knew everything about her life.”

Q: Explain the extent of your relationship with her. Was it platonic? Civil? Rocky? Romantic?

“we talked at christmas and easter. that was about it. she kind of cramped my style with her ‘no fucking my friends’ rule––and before you ask, no, i didn’t kill her over it. i just fucked her friends anyway.”

Q: In your own words, describe Morgan Parrish to me.

“a real pain in the ass, but she was my first pick for flag football at thanksgiving. she was ruthless.”

Q: Would you say your life got better or worse upon meeting Morgan Parrish?

“i mean, i pretty much met her from the day that she was born, so...i guess better because i wasn’t potty-trained yet.”

Q: What was your favorite thing about her?

“she had really hot friends. have you interrogated bridget flores yet? total smokeshow.”

Q: What was your least favorite thing about her?

“she told my mom that i was the one that broke her lalique vase just because i spilled hot sauce on her dress. what an asshole, right? i had to miss homecoming because of that stupid vase, and my date was stephanie madsen. stephanie motherfucking madsen. she won homecoming queen, you know, with jason poyfair.” he pulled a face and shook his head, “total bullshit.”

Q: Where were you the night of her murder?

logan squinted as he tried to recall his whereabouts, but he honestly couldn’t remember what he did yesterday, so it was a bit of a lost cause. “i was probably with a girl. maybe eden. if there was a party that night, then i was definitely there. i’ll check with my receptionist and get back to you.”

Q: Where were you the day before?

“i would say class, but that would be a fuckin’ lie. i was probably asleep until three in the afternoon, and then i probably hit up eden for some cookies.”

Q: Where were you after?

he clenched his jaw and swallowed hard, “i was at a meeting. for hockey. i, uh, i had to leave early.”

Q: How did you feel about her passing?

he sighed, finally feeling the agitation of going over his cousin’s death again and again creep into his tone. “i don’t know. what do you think? it fucking sucked. my grandma couldn’t stop crying.”

Q: What do you think about the way she died? Just as a refresher, Morgan Parrish was drugged, strangled, beaten, and then shot.

logan looked down at his hands and swallowed the bile rising in his throat. he wasn’t sure why, but every time he imagined her corpse, she always looked like she was five years old again. “it was fucked up. what else do you want me to say?”

Q: Did you make any sort of tribute to her death and put it on social m-

Another interrogator walks into the room. She’s holding a folder with your picture clipped to the front. She opens it in front of Detective Booth and whispers something into his ear. He shoots you a look and then excuses himself from the room. He returns twenty minutes later, features stony. He quickly writes something down on his notepad and then caps the pen.

Q: Change of plans. I’m going to scrap the questions I had prepared and ask you what I see fit. Where were you exactly the night Morgan Parrish died?

logan quickly placed his carefully crafted smirk back onto his face and held out his hand, “enchanté, mademoiselle. logan, logan wagner, but you can call me james bond––and what might i call a fine lady such as yourself?”

her stern face didn’t move. “detective. answer the question.”

he sighed and retracted his hand, “you know what, i’m just going to call you karen. you look like a karen; you have a very karen-esque face. it’s a good thing; karens are hot.”

she tapped her pen against her pad of paper, and logan held up his hands. “jeez, relax, karen. i just wanted to get to know you a little better before we got down to business. i just told detective sunshine that i’m pretty sure i was at a party.”

Q: Tell me all the details you can remember from that night.

“i don’t really remember anything from any party i’ve been to. i’m a big fan of patron.”

Q: Were you intoxicated at any point?

“uh ,,, just the entire night.”

Q: Are there any witnesses able to corroborate your story?

“probably the entire hockey team. greek row, too, if they can manage to remember anything past breakfast.”

Q: I feel like you’re leaving things out. Tell me all the details you can remember from that night.

logan smirked slightly, “are you asking for the explicit version ‘cause i could come up with something if you’re interested, or we could just create our own version of events.”

detective karen something held up her hand, “that’s enough, thank you.”

Q: … are you telling me the truth, kid? We got six other students we’re talking to today – sure would suck for you if one of ‘em was able to prove that something you’re saying is false.

“i’m not really sure, but i believe what i’m saying, and nietzsche says that means it’s the truth, and we all know that philosophers never lie.”

Q: What was the last thing you said to Morgan?

logan frowned and scratched his cheek, “i...i don’t actually know. probably something stupid.” he kind of wished that he had known at the time. not that he had any idea what he’d say to her if he knew that he’d never see her again, but it probably would’ve been better than whatever bullshit he said at the time.

Q: Have you ever gotten into a physical altercation with Morgan before?

“past the age of five? no. and i want it on the record that no matter what my grandma says, i won that fight.”

Q: Have you ever fought verbally with Morgan?

“yeah, ask booth about laliquegate. it’s a real page-turner.”

Q: Would you say you felt safe around Morgan?

“emotionally? no. physically?” he paused and shrugged his shoulder, “probably not.”

Q: Do you wish you had never met Morgan?

“i like to focus on the future, karen. for example, what are you doing tonight because i’m a big fan of donuts and being handcuffed.”

Q: Do you own a gun?

“yes, but it shoots strictly nerf foam, and i only use it in case of emergencies.”

Q: Have you handled a gun before?

“i just explained that i’m very well-equipped to handle any nerf gun model made after 1997.”

Q: Do you know someone who owns a gun?

“me, but i got my license to carry from toys r us before they went bankrupt.”

Q: Have you gotten into physical fights before?

“i’m a lover not a fighter, karen. i thought you knew that about me already.”

Q: Is there anyone who can prove where you say you were on the night of her death?

“probably eden, but don’t hold me to that. i might’ve been with a girl i don’t remember.”

Q: Do you think Morgan deserved to die?

“what the fuck? no. people don’t just deserve to die.” he titled his head and paused, “except maybe chris martin. fuck that guy and his dead fish eyes.”

Q: Do you wish she was still alive?

“obviously, but despite popular belief, i’m not god.”

Q: Do you miss her?

he shoved away thoughts of a little girl with pigtails and pink dresses that skipped rocks with him in their grandma’s backyard. it was...easier not to have substance, far less painful. “i mean, she was an asshole, but she was family. it’s weird not seeing her at reunions anymore. i guess that’s kind of missing her, right?”

Q: Has your life gotten better or worse since her death?

“honestly, the same. i didn’t really talk to her that much. she was kind of a downer most of the time.”

Q: If you could bring her back to life, would you?

“again, i’m not actually god.” he grinned and winked at the detective, “but i think i could make an exception for you.”

Q: Are you hiding something from the people of Hyland? From your family? From me?

“i’ll be honest, i haven’t exactly been forthcoming on exactly how much i like one tree hill––but i’m going to come clean now. i think that one tree hill is a gift to mankind, and i cried when nathan told haley that he loved her for the first time.” he paused and shrugged his shoulders, “twice.”

Q: Have you been telling the truth this entire time?

“i’m more than a little hurt you don’t trust me after all we’ve been through, karen. deeply hurt, and that’s on you. i hope you think about that for the rest of today and consider how your actions affect other people.”

Q: Did you kill Morgan Parrish?

“i would not last one day in prison, so no.”

#tw: stupidity #hylandtask

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themadamelibrarian · 5 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester Characters: Sam Winchester, Gabriel (Supernatural) Additional Tags: Priest Kink, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rough Sex, Light Bondage, Wing Kink Summary: Sam should be careful what he prays for.

Note: Since it’s Easter and you’re probably sitting at a relatives house wondering when the ham or turkey is going to be served or you don’t celebrate and it’s just a Sunday, I thought I’d give you all a little “religious” flavored fic.

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Sam adjusts the white collar of his priest’s outfit with a smirk on his face. He’d left the bunker to spend the next few days in a hotel with the intention of teasing Gabriel into a quivering mound of goo. And step one, was this outfit. He knew that the Archangel had a thing for him dressed as a man of the cloth but until today he’d never actually thought of using that tidbit of information. He even went so far as to make sure that his face was clean shaven and smooth enough to run over silk stockings without snagging them.

He does one last check of the room to make sure everything is in its place before sinking to his knees beside the bed. Folding his hands together, he bows his head and begins to pray. “O loving messenger of the Incarnation, descend upon all those for whom I wish peace and happiness. Spread your wings over the cradles of the new-born babes, O thou who didst announce the coming of the Infant Jesus. Give to the young a lily petal from the virginal scepter in your hand. Cause the Ave Maria to re-echo in all hearts that they may find grace and joy through Mary. Finally, recall the sublime words spoken on the day of the Annunciation— 'Nothing is impossible with God', and repeat them in hours of trial—to all I love—that their confidence in Our Lord may be reanimated when all human help fails. Amen.” The last line of the prayer is accompanied by the sound of wings echoing through the room.

Gabriel stands behind Sam with his hands shoved in his pockets and chuckles. “A little flowery don’t you think?”

Sam slowly stands and turns to face the angel, the white of his collar shining like a beacon in the dimly lit room. Gabriel’s jaw drops open in shock when he gets a good look at him. A spike of want jarring through his body as golden brown eyes travel over Sam from head to toe. “It seemed only appropriate that I send you a respectful prayer. Unless you’d prefer something...different.” Sam’s voice is low and reverent as if he’s actually standing in a church instead of a hotel room.

“Some-something different?” Gabriel stutters out.

“Of course.” Sam closes his eyes and directs a new kind of prayer towards Gabriel without speaking. “Gabriel, I beseech you to touch me. To lay me bare so that I might be filled...” Sam peeks open one eye and gives him a mischievous smile. “with your glorious cock.”.

“Dammit, Sam.” Gabriel moans out as he steps into his personal space and runs a finger over Sam’s collar. “Do you have any idea what this does to me?”

Sam gently places his hand on Gabriel's waist and runs his thumbs over the soft flesh of Gabriel’s stomach through his shirt. “I have a vague idea, but I could do with a bit of clarification. A man can only run on the faith of what he can’t see for so long.”

A choked gasp breaks free from Gabriel’s throat as he surges up and pulls Sam into a heated kiss. Their mouths pressing together and each of them taking their time to suck and nip at each other's lips. The feeling of Sam’s tongue sliding along his own was so deliciously filthy that all he could do was thread his fingers through his long chestnut hair and hold on. Sam’s hands drift down until they’re gripping the round curves of Gabriel’s ass, pulling him forward until their growing erections press together through their clothing. The Archangel breaks the kiss with panting breath and begins to back Sam up towards the bed. “I’m going to enjoy watching you shake apart beneath me, Priest.” his voice is low and thick with desire.

“If that’s the penance I must pay for my sins, then I’ll do so with a glad heart.” Sam’s legs hit the edge of the bed, causing him to topple backward. Gabriel gives him no time to right himself before he’s crawling into the taller man’s lap. His hands skimming beneath Sam’s coat until his fingers brush over hardened nipples. Arching into the touch, Sam lets out a quiet moan as he rolls his hips up in search of some sort of contact to relieve the growing ache in his cock.

Gabriel leans forward to suck a line of kisses along Sam’s jaw. “You think I am that easy?” he purrs as he slips a hand between them to palm at his bedmate’s erection, pulling a low groan from him. “I won’t be the one to break. You will.” Using a touch of his grace, he binds Sam’s hands to the bed. At first, Sam tugs his hands as he looks at Gabriel with a protest on his lips. Gabriel brushes his lips against Sam’s ear. “You can tell me to stop at any time, Sam. I would never hurt you.” he sits up so that he can look into the eyes of his lover. “Do you want to stop?”

Sam slowly licks his lips as he thinks about it. All too quickly he’s shaking his head. “Don’t stop, Gabriel. Please don’t stop.” He cranes his neck in search of a kiss. A search that Gabriel ends by dipping down and claiming his lips in a searing kiss. With tongue and breath, he devours every sigh and whimper. His hand busy with gripping Sam through his trousers, stroking every granite-like inch of him. With an arch of his back, Sam whines low in his throat. “Please, Gabriel.”

“Tell me, Samuel. What are you pleading for?” Gabriel sits back on Sam’s thighs, letting the hand not otherwise occupied, caress over the prone man’s shirt front. Stopping to gently circle each nipple until he could feel them harden through their cotton covering.

Sam opens his glassy, lust filled eyes. “To feel you inside me.” he sighs as he writhes under the onslaught of sensations going through his body from Gabriel’s skilled fingers.

Smirking, Gabriel rocks his hips, putting a little added pressure to the back of his hand to set a more regular rhythm to his touch on Sam’s erection. “Not yet. I want to watch you first.”

“Oh. Oh, God.” Sam exclaims as he feels pre-come wet the front of his boxers. Rocking faster into Gabriel’s palm, a coil of tense pleasure builds deep inside him.

“Blasphemy, Samuel. Mind your tongue or I’ll mind it for you.” The Archangel bends down to nip at his bottom lip. His own desire making him ache to do as Sam is asking for but he truly wants to see this man lose control without the distraction of seeking his own pleasure.

Turning his head, Sam presses his cheek into his bicep with a choked cry as everything inside him draws tight. He’s teetering on the edge but a tinge of embarrassment holds him back. He’s not come in his pants in years and here is Gabriel being unrelenting in his desire to see such a thing. Which shouldn’t be frustrating but Sam finds himself extremely turned on by the thought of being watched like this.

“There we go, Samuel. Let go. Show me how much you love my touch.” Gabriel whispers to him as his hand squeezes him a little tighter as the Angel grinds down into the warm lap under him. Sam’s mouth falls open, letting out short little pants of breath until a long, low moan escapes from his lips. His release pulsing hot and hard into the front of his boxers. Gabriel watches in awe of the sight before him. His own body screaming for something more than simple touches. Once Sam settles down Gabriel removes himself from the taller man’s lap, releasing the hold he had on his wrists. Standing at the foot of the bed Gabriel starts to undress. Sam pushes himself up to recline on his elbows so that he can enjoy the show of precious inches of Gabriel’s body being revealed. “Liking the show, Priest?” The Angel smirks as he removes the last article of clothing.

“Very much.” Sam sighs as he reaches down to undo the button of his pants. With a tilt of his head and crooked smile, Gabriel raises his finger, ticking it back and forth in a ‘no’ gesture.

“Not yet, Sam. I’ve got plans for those pants of yours. But first..” He bends down to run a hand up Sam’s thigh. Without breaking eye contact, he slips his hands around until he can dig his fingers into the fabric covering Sam. With a quick tug, Gabriel tears the seams apart in the seat of both pants and boxers, leaving Sam’s ass exposed to the cool air of the room.

The movement is so unexpected that a yelp of surprise bursts out of Sam. “Gabriel!”

“Did you think I’d let you remove your vestments so that you could forget who you are, Samuel?” He says as he pulls Sam by the hips towards the edge of the bed and flips him over so that he’s bent over and open to Gabriel’s mercy.

Sam grunts at the sudden movement. “I was hoping.” The pretense of the game slipping away as he pushes himself up onto his hands to look over his shoulder with a wicked smile and a little wiggle of his hips. “Nightstand.” is all he says.

Gabriel smiles at the hunter’s foresight when he spies the nightstand where Sam had left a bottle of water and another of lubricant. Taking a few quick steps, he retrieves the smaller bottle and returns to his place behind Sam. Drizzling the liquid over his fingers, he rubs them together to evenly disburse the slick before running his fingers along the cleft of Sam’s ass.

With little hums of anticipation, Sam cants his hips back in hopes that there would be more than light touches which were starting to drive him crazy. This is what he’d been wanting all night, hell he’d been wanting this all week and now he was so close and all Gabriel was doing was teasing him. “Dammit Gabriel, would you stop playing around and get inside me.” he growls as he pushes against the angel’s hand, making the tip of one of the fingers press against his opening. Gabriel sees Sam’s head tilt back in pleasure. With a shake of his head at how impatient Sam can be, he pushes the finger forward until it’s sheathed inside.

At first, Sam finds the intrusive sting a little unpleasant but that quickly changes as Gabriel carefully works him open. Each thrust and twist of Gabriel’s fingers sending waves of pleasure through him until he’s panting out Gabriel's name.

Placing several small kisses along the nape of Sam’s neck, he slowly withdraws his fingers and moves to generously slicken up his own aching cock. “Ready for me, Samuel?” The taller man nods as he braces himself on his forearms and spreads his knees a little wider.

“Yes, Gabriel. Need to feel you inside me.” Sam groans into the covers.

Gabriel lines up his cockhead with Sam’s pliant opening and sinks into him down to the root with a hiss at the tight squeeze of muscles around him. “Oh. Fuck, Samuel. You’re so damned tight. This may not last long.” Sam inhales sharply as he’s filled, reveling in the stretch Gabriel’s cock creates. They both held still for several moments, each of them adjusting in their own ways. When he feels that he can control himself, Gabriel pulls back at an agonizingly slow pace until he’s about to slip out before thrusting forward with a snap of his hips. The movement making both of them cry out. Sam’s fingers claw into the bedspread below him as he pushes into each of Gabriel’s thrusts. Sam was pleasantly surprised as his cock began to swell once more. He was used to needing more time to recover from orgasms before regaining the ability to go a second round. Lifting his hips to give him just enough room, Sam slips his hand under him and opens the fly of his pants. Pulling out his cock, Sam gently strokes himself in time with Gabriel’s thrusts.

Gabriel runs his hand up Sam’s spine until his fingers card into his long hair. Closing his fingers, he tugs on Sam’s hair until the brunettes head tips back. The angel nips at the shell of Sam’s ear as he pounds into him, chasing after his own release which he can already feel the telltale tingle running along his wings that are safely hidden from human sight. “Tell me you’re close, Sam.” he pants “Don’t know how much longer I can hold off. This suit...your ass...dangerous combo.”

“Want to see you, Gabe.” Sam pleads as he tries to twist his head around to look at Gabriel. “Got to see me come. Want to see you come too.”

Groaning, Gabriel releases his hold on Sam’s hair and carefully pulls out. Sam goes to turn himself over when Gabriel grabs ahold of him and manhandles him onto his back. Reminding Sam for the second time that night that he is dealing with a being with far more strength than his vessel conveys. A fact that makes Sam’s heart race with excitement and a touch of fear from too many years of hunting creatures stronger than him. Crawling back until he’s in the middle of the bed, Sam expects a bit more teasing but from the look Gabriel was giving him, that wasn’t anywhere near what the Archangel had planned. Before he could overthink the situation, Gabriel was kissing him with such intensity and passion that it would have made Sam weak in the knees if he wasn’t already laying down. Gabriel grabs Sam’s legs and wraps them around his waist so that he can push into him once again.

Any sound that Sam would have made at that moment was muted as Gabriel slides his tongue in alongside Sam’s. He seems to flounder for a moment in indecision on where to put his hands first, but Gabriel helps him by taking his hand and guiding it between them and wrapping their fingers around Sam’s now dripping hard cock. Pulling from the kiss with a gasp, Gabriel rests his forehead against Sam’s. “Come on, Sam. Let me have it.”

Sam places his free hand on the back of Gabriel’s neck to hold him right where he was. “Love you, Gabriel,” he whispers as he feels his orgasm building until it’s a nearly unbearable pressure that needs just the right push to explode.

“I love you too, Sam. From Wingtip to tail.” Gabriel mutters in response just as his own release starts rolling through him. He has no time for utter a warning so he pulls his hand from between them and claps it over Sam’s eyes just as he shouts out in pleasure as he comes the harder than he has in years. The sensory overload on his grace flows over the boundaries of his vessel until the room is filled with a bright, eye-searing light.

The lack of sight and the sound of Gabriel’s cries was the push that Sam needed. With a shout of Gabriel’s name, Sam arches up against him as he shoots thick ropes of come. When the light of Gabriel’s grace fades, they’re both left panting for much-needed air as they come down the initial post-orgasmic high. Gabriel’s gentle in his movements as he pulls out and flops down beside Sam.

“I’m having that suit bronzed and hung on my wall,” Gabriel says as he throws an arm over his eyes.

Chuckling, Sam makes an effort to remove the jacket but is too jelly limbed to do much but shift the lapel. “Gotta get it off me first and I’m not moving to do it at the moment. Besides, it’s destroyed.”

“That’s why I’m having it bronzed.” With a snap of Gabriel’s fingers, Sam’s clothes disappear.

“You’re not really going to bronze them, are you?” Sam asks as he turns over and rests his chin on Gabriel’s chest. “Because that’s kind of... gross.”

“Says the guy with a prayer kink.” Gabriel teases as he reaches up to run his fingers through Sam’s damp hair.

“You’ve got a point. A weak one, but I’m not going to argue. ‘m too relaxed to argue.” Sam lets his eyes drift shut as he listens to Gabriel’s heartbeat. That’s when something Gabriel said comes back to him and his eyes snap back open. “Um...Gabe? When did you get a tail?”

@copperseraphim @truxblooded

#Sabriel #Supernatural #Sam Winchester #Gabriel #My Writing #Madamelibrarian's Writing

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littlemisssquiggles · 6 years

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So Lindsay Jones recently confirmed that Ruby is already 17 years old. Does this mean that Oscar could already be 15?

Ifthis is a confirmed fact then it would mean that Ruby only turned 17 as recentas the end of V5 going into V6. My guess is that Oscar is 14 going on 15. My theory is that Oscar was born early in the yearwith a birthday falling between April and May (because I want him to be aTaurus horoscope to complement Ruby’s Scorpio). So even if Ruby has turned 17now, the two year age difference between her and Oscar still applies. So Oscarmust have a birthday coming up soon. But like I said, that’s my theory untilthe CRWBY confirms otherwise.

IfI had to take a wildguess at Oscar’s official birthday,my hunch would be May 14th. As a Pinehead, I really want ourprecious freckled farm boy to be a confirmed Taurus born and according tozodiac, Taurus birthdays fall between April 21st and May 20th.

Somy first choice for Oscar’s birthday is May 14th ---14seems to be a number that’s significant withOscar since I find it interesting that he was 14 at the start of hisintroduction which correlates with the number of freckles he has on his face.Oscar being 14 years old and coincidentally having 14 freckles on his face is acool detail.

Mysecond choice for Oscar’s birthday is April 21st sinceI once shared a Pineheadheadcanon that I hope Oscar’s birthdayfalls on Easter.Easter is basically the Halloween of Springtime so having Oscar’s birthday fallduring Easter would be cute. And according to research, April 21stmarks Easter Sunday next year 2019 so it’d fit.

Imagine RWBY Chibi S4 premieresearly next year and after V6 Oscar finally gets added to the Chibi cast.Similar to Ruby’s birthday in Chibi, what if…there’s an Easter themed Chibi episodewhich confirms Oscar’s birthday. Imagine…the CRWBY confirming Oscar’s birthdaywith an Easter Day tweet the same way they did for Ruby on Halloween. Thatwould be cool. But then again, these are just my hunches.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2018)

#squiggles answers: rwby #oscar pine #rwby theories #miggy97

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thehikingviking · 3 years

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Devils Peak, Santa Cruz Island High Point

Devils Peak is the high point of Santa Cruz Island and lies just off the coast of Santa Barbara. To peak geeks, it boasts over 2,000 ft of prominence and over 25 miles of isolation. It is not high, nor necessarily difficult to hike, but the main challenge lies in getting there. Typically, peak baggers must charter a private boat across the Santa Barbara Channel. Making the crossing is heavily dependent on weather and can be quite pricey. To minimize the cost per person, filling the vessel with the maximum allotted passengers is the best pricing strategy aside from knowing someone with a boat. In this case 6 were allowed; Chad, Beer, Josef, Michael, Asaka and myself. A secondary personal challenge was to figure out what to do with Leif, our new born baby. While it would have been definitely possible for me to carry him to the top, the captain recommended for us to leave the baby on dry land (which we found out later proved to be the right call). Luckily, my parents were willing to spend that same weekend in Santa Barbara to visit my mom’s cousin, so we had baby sitters for the day. Asaka was not very happy with leaving the baby, and protested to me for the several months leading up to the trip. I could have left her behind, but I already skipped a previous outing to Devils Peak several years back because there was no room for her on the boat. Finding a compatible hiking group to go with is rather rare, so I felt I had to take her. Besides, I needed to spend some personal time with Asaka, so that I can view her as my wife rather than my baby mama. After the trip, my parents reassured us that Leif did not mind one bit that we were gone for that half day. As the trip grew nearer, I realized that our reservation was on Easter Sunday! This caught me off guard, but everyone else, including the captain, seemed not to mind. My parents were flexible enough, realizing that spending a whole day with their only grandson would be the best way to spend their East Sunday anyways.

We woke up in our hotel, dropped the baby with the parents, then began our short drive to Santa Barbara Harbor. My car notified me of a wind advisory for the local area. This concerned me but the weather outside was fine. We met our group prior to 7am at the dock. Shortly after we met our captain Martín, looking like your stereotypical chill dude. Unshaven and unbothered, he wore a beanie, sweat shirt and sweatpants. He didn’t look like he was dressed to get wet, which was a good sign. He claimed to cross the channel to Santa Cruz Island over 100 times a year, which surprised me. I didn’t realized such a crossing was so popular. At any rate, this gave me confidence that we would have smooth sailing ahead. The boat was smaller than I expected, having taken a giant ferry on my previous trips to the Channel Islands. A made sure to make a “3 hour tour” Gilligan’s Island joke before we set off. Martín was polite enough to laugh, even though he probably hears that same joke on a weekly basis. Josef and Michael, Austrian buddies, sat together on the back, while the couples sat in the middle on opposite sides.

The islands looked close but this was deceptive as the ride took about an hour and a half. I was initially jealous of Josef and Michael for having the most comfortable seats on the boat until they both got completely drenched. I saw several misty spouts in the distance, which could have been from a whale or an orca. There were a couple of times where Asaka and/or Beer went flying. I was sure to hang onto her tight after the first airborne incident, and no one fell out of the boat, although Michael, who was completely drenched, might as well have. It felt like a long time to reach the island cliffs where Martín switched the dinghy into a lower gear. We cruised along until we reached Ladys Harbor, which contained a beautiful rocky beach.

The sea lions curiously watched us while swimming along the rocks.

Martín blew up a kayak which he used to transport us to shore two at a time.

We had to balance very carefully once on the transport vessel. Getting wet was inevitable, but we stayed dry above our knees. Once at shore, we dried out our feet and waited for the others to complete the transfer. Asaka took delight in the various sea shells.

Martín would hang out on the boat while we did our short hike. We expected to be gone only a few hours. After leaving the rocky beach, we entered a thicket. Thankfully there was no poison oak, but there were several sections of our route that required some bushwhacking. We aimed left (East) towards the ridgeline above. I took my place in the rear with Asaka, content to let the others break trail. My only fear was rockfall, but luckily nothing came down that day. Once through the worst of it, we emerged on a steep hillside which we followed to the top of the ridge.

-Alta 2 Benchmark

Once atop the ridge, the route was pretty straightforward as we could see all that lay ahead of us. Sure there would be some minor ups and downs, but nothing that I considered difficult.

-Dudleya succulent

It was a social occasion. I took turns chatting up each individual. I was excited for Asaka to meet Beer, since they had a similar background, coming to America from Asia to marry mountain men.

-Moonset

Though less impressive, the reddish rock reminded me of the volcanic conglomerate found in Pinnacles National Park. Over 15 million years ago, lava flows covered much of the area that now comprises the northern Channel Islands. The the rock formations at Pinnacles started in Lancaster, California, just north of the Transverse Range in the Neenach Volcanic Field, so maybe there’s some kind of distant connection.

-Lupine

-Beavertail Cactus

Rather than stay atop the ridge, we sidehilled down to a patch of shady oaks.

We took our first break in the shade. I sorted through the various Japanese snacks that Asaka’s mom shipped from Japan. The summit was near but we had no reason to rush. Sometimes you need to learn to enjoy the hikes.

After our break we climbed up the grassy hill to our right and followed a parallel ridge towards Devils Peak. The summit structure was now visible from our vantage point.

We climbed a steep, grassy hill underneath some more oaks then emerged on top of the final rocky ridge.

We reached the summit several minutes later. We all did our best to stay in the shade on that warm day. I ate my dry sandwich, wishing I had some more mayo to go along with it. I wondered how they serviced the tower, since I didn’t see a road leading up to the structure.

To the east was El Montañon, the high point of Channel Islands National Park.

To the north were the Santa Ynez Mountains and the Santa Barbara Channel.

To the west were Santa Rosa Island and Alta 2 Benchmark

To the southwest were Sierra Blanca and the endless Pacific Ocean.

To the southeast ran the fault line that divides Santa Cruz Island.

Asaka didn’t want to wait on the summit for too long since she was worried about the baby, so we took a final photo and began our hike back down.

Asaka ran off ahead of the group while I organized some final things.

Much to her nature, Asaka quickly got lost. She wasn’t on the descent route, so I had to run off to find her. She had continued along the ridge past our turnoff point. I hollered down to her and waited for her to climb back up, disappointed and embarrassed as usual. Now that we were back on track, we pretty much followed the exact same way back down to the boat. I was relieved to see Martín's boat was still there.

Much care was taken on the final section. It was steep and I didn’t want to kick down any rocks. We then trashed our way over the last section, just barely missing our ascent route too far to the left. It took us 4.5 hours to do our little hike. This included two very long rests and a gentle pace.

Once at the beach, Martín began to fill his kayak. I jumped in the super cold water to cool off. Perhaps that was a bad idea because I would end up being too cold over the next hour and a half.

Once in the boat, we began our ride back, and that’s where the fun began. Martín informed us that a small craft advisory had been issued for the area. These particular words didn’t mean much to me, but his tone and body language were more effective at conveying our situation. He then said that it was going to get pretty gnarly, which was an easier statement for me to understand.

Things were smooth coming out of the cove, but it wasn’t long until we reached open water and things started to get dicey. Martín recommended for us to sit on the deck as opposed to the seats. The water was very choppy and the swells would take us up high peaks and down to low valleys. A couple times the waves even broke over our boat and soaked everybody. First Josef got got completely soaked, and then Asaka. It was like someone dropped a bucket on each of them. It was scary and funny at the same time. Martín lost his sunglasses and his sweatpants got soaked. After 30 minutes of some crazy maneuvering, the swells began to relent slightly, and things got progressively smoother as we neared shore. I was relieved to pull into the sunny harbor. After Martín docked, I asked him if that was typical. He stated that was the roughest crossing he’s ever experienced. He has owned his current boat for 7 years, which means with a conservative estimate, he's done at least 700 out and backs. I don’t know if we were unlucky to have experienced such wild conditions, or conversely lucky just to have survived. It will be a good story to tell for years to come. We all got our sea legs that day. We met up with my parents and the baby later that afternoon, and I went crabbing with my cousin. We didn't yield any results, but I got to stare out at the island for a couple more hours. Now I need to take a more leisurely tourist trip out to Channel Islands National Park.

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pamphletstoinspire · 6 years

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The Church's Year - SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY

Why is this Sunday called "Septuagesima"?

Because in accordance with the words of the First Council of Orleans, some pious Christian congregations in the earliest ages of the Church, especially the clergy, began to fast seventy days before Easter, on this Sunday, which was therefore called Septuagesima" - the seventieth day. The same is the case with the Sundays following, which are called Sexagesima, Quinquagesima , Quadragesima, because some Christians commenced to fast sixty days, others fifty, others forty days before Easter, until finally, to make it properly uniform, Popes Gregory and Gelasius arranged that all Christians should fast forty days before Easter, commencing with Ash Wednesday.

Why, from this day until Easter, does the Church omit in her service all joyful canticles, alleluias, and the Gloria in excelsis etc?

Gradually to prepare the minds of the faithful for the serious time of penance and sorrow; to remind the sinner of the grievousness of his errors, and to exhort him to penance. So the priest appears at the altar in violet, the color of penance, and the front of the altar is covered with a violet curtain. To arouse our sorrow for our sins, and show the need of repentance, the Church in the name of all mankind at the Introit cries with David: The groans of death surrounded me, the sorrows of hell encompassed me: and in my affliction I called upon the Lord, and he heard my voice from his holy temple. (Ps. XVII, 5-7.) I will love thee, O Lord, my strength; the Lord is my firmament, and my refuge, and my deliverer. (Fs. XVII. 2-3.) Glory be to the Father, etc.

COLLECT O Lord, we beseech Thee graciously hear the prayers of Thy people; that we who are justly afflicted for our sins may, for the glory of Thy name, mercifully be delivered. Through our Lord, Jesus Christ etc.

EPISTLE (I. Cor. IX. 24-27., to X. 1-5.) Brethren, know you not that they that run in the race, all run indeed, but one receiveth the prize? So run, that you may obtain. And every one that striveth for the mastery, refraineth himself from all things: and they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible one. I therefore so run, not as at an uncertainty; I so fight, not as one beating the air; but I chastise my body, and bring it into subjection; lest perhaps, when I have preached to others, I myself should become a castaway. For I would not have you ignorant, brethren, that our fathers were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea: and all in Moses were baptized, in the cloud and in the sea; and did all eat the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink (and they drank of the spiritual rock that followed them: and the rock was Christ); but with the most of them God was not well pleased.

EXPLANATION Having exhorted us to penance in the Introit of the Mass, the Church desires to indicate to us, by reading this epistle, the effort we should make to reach the kingdom of heaven by the narrow path (Matt. VII. 13.) of penance and mortification. This St. Paul illustrates by three different examples. By the example of those who in a race run to one point, or in a prize-fight practice and prepare themselves for the victor's reward by the strongest exercise, and by the strictest abstinence from everything that might weaken the physical powers. If to win a laurel-crown that passes away, these will subject themselves to the severest trials and deprivations, how much more should we, for the sake of the heavenly crown of eternal happiness, abstain from those improper desires, by which the soul is weakened, and practice those holy virtues, such as prayer, love of God and our neighbor, patience, to which the crown is promised! Next, by his own example, bringing himself before them as one running a race, and fighting for an eternal crown, but not as one running blindly not knowing whither, or fighting as one who strikes not his antagonist, but the air; on the contrary, with his eyes firmly fixed on the eternal crown, certain to be his who lives by the precepts of the gospel, who chastises his spirit and his body as a valiant champion, with a strong hand, that is, by severest mortification, by fasting and prayer. If St. Paul, notwithstanding the extraordinary graces which he received, thought it necessary to chastise his body that he might not be cast away, how does the sinner expect to be saved, living an effeminate and luxurious life without penance and mortification? St. Paul's third example is that of the Jews who all perished on their journey to the Promised Land, even though God had granted them so many graces; He shielded them from their enemies by a cloud which served as a light to them at night, and a cooling shade by day; He divided the waters of the sea, thus preparing for them a dry passage; He caused manna to fall from heaven to be their food, and water to gush from the rock for their drink. These temporal benefits which God bestowed upon the Jews in the wilderness had a spiritual meaning; the cloud and the sea was a figure of baptism which enlightens the soul, tames the concupiscence of the flesh, and purifies from sin; the manna was a type of the most holy Sacrament of the Altar, the soul's true bread from heaven; the water from the rock, the blood flowing from Christ's wound in the side; and yet with all these temporal benefits which God bestowed upon them, and with all the spiritual graces they were to receive by faith from the coming Redeemer, of the six hundred thousand men who left Egypt only two, Joshua and Caleb, entered the Promised Land. Why? Because they were fickle, murmured so, often against God, and desired the pleasures of the flesh. How much, then, have we need to fear lest we be excluded from the true, happy land, Heaven, if we do not continuously struggle for it, by penance and mortification!

ASPIRATION Assist me, O Jesus, with Thy grace that, following St. Paul's example, I may be anxious, by the constant pious practice of virtue and prayer, to arrive at perfection and to enter heaven.

G0SPEL (Matt. XX. 1-6.) At that time, Jesus spoke to his disciples this parable: The kingdom of heaven is like to a householder, who went out early in the morning to hire laborers into his vineyard. And having agreed with the laborers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And going out about the third hour, he saw others standing in the market place idle, and he said to them: Go you also into my vineyard, and I will give you what shall be just. And they went their way. And again he went out about the sixth and the ninth hour, and did in like manner. But about the eleventh hour, he went out, and found others standing; and he saith to them: Why stand you here all the day idle? They say to him: Because no man hath hired us. He saith to them: Go you also into my vineyard. And when evening was come, the Lord of the vineyard saith to his steward: Call the laborers, and pay them their hire, beginning from the last even to the first. When therefore they were come that came about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny, But when the first also came, they thought that they should receive more; and they also received every man a penny. And receiving it, they murmured against the master of the house, saying: These last have worked but one hour and thou hart made them equal to us that have borne the burden of the day and the heats. But he answering said to one of them: Friend, I do thee no wrong; didst thou not agree with me for a penny? Take what is thine, and go thy way; I will also give to this last even as to thee. Or, is it not lawful for me to do what I will? Is thy eye evil, because I am good? So shall the last be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few are chosen.

In this parable, what is to be understood by the householder, the vineyard, laborers, and the penny?

The householder represents God, who in different ages of the world, in the days of Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and finally, in the days of Christ and the apostles, has sought to call men as workmen into His vineyard, the true Church, that they might labor there industriously, and receive the penny of eternal glory.

How and when does God call people?

By inward inspiration, by preachers, confessors, spiritual books, and conversations, etc., in flourishing youth and in advanced age, which periods of life may be understood by the different hours of the day.

What is meant by working in the vineyard?

It means laboring, fighting, suffering for God and His honor, for our own and the salvation of others. As in a vineyard we spade, dig, root out weeds, cut off all that is useless and noxious, manure, plant, and bind up, so in the spiritual vineyard of our soul we must, by frequent meditation on death and hell, by examination of conscience dig up the evil inclinations by their roots, and by true repentance eradicate the weeds of vice, and by mortification, especially by prayer and fasting cut away concupiscence; by the recollection of our sins we must humble ourselves, and amend our life; in place of the bad habits we must plant the opposite virtues and bind our unsteady will to the trellis of the fear of God and of His judgment, that we may continue firm.

How is a vice or bad habit to be rooted up?

A great hatred of sin must be aroused; a fervent desire of destroying sin must be produced in our hearts; the grace of God must be implored without which nothing can be accomplished. It is useful also to read some spiritual book which speaks against the vice. The Sacraments of Penance and of Holy Communion should often be received, and some saint who in life had committed the same sin, and afterwards by the grace of God conquered it, should be honored, as Mary Magdalen and St. Augustine who each had the habit of impurity, but with the help of God resisted and destroyed it in themselves; there should be fasting, alms-deeds, or other good works, performed for the same object, and it is of great importance, even necessary, that the conscience should be carefully examined in this regard.

Who are standing idle in the market place?

In the market-place, that is the world, they are standing idle who, however much business they attend to, do not work for God and for their own salvation; for the only necessary employment is the service of God and the working out of our salvation. There are three ways of being idle: doing nothing whatever; doing evil; doing other things than the duties of our position in life and its office require, or if this work is done without a good intention, or not from the love of God. This threefold idleness deprives us of our salvation, as the servant loses his wages if he works not at all, or not according to the will of his master. We are all servants of God, and none of us can say with the laborers in the Vineyard that no man has employed us; for God, when He created us, hired us at great wages, and we must serve Him always as He cares for us at all times; and if, in the gospel, the householder reproaches the workmen, whom no man had hired, for their idleness, what will God one day say to those Christians whom He has placed to work in His Vineyard, the Church, if they have remained idle?

Why do the last comers receive as much as those who worked all day ?

Because God rewards not the time or length of the work, but the industry and diligence with which it has been performed. It may indeed happen, that many a one who has served God but for a short time, excels in merits another who has lived long but has not labored as diligently. (Wisdom IV. 8-13.)

What is signified by the murmurs of the first workmen when the wages were paid?

As the Jews were the first who were called by God, Christ intended to show that the Gentiles, who were called last, should one day receive the heavenly reward, and that the Jews have no reason to murmur because God acted not unjustly in fulfilling His promises "to them, and at the same time calling others to the eternal reward. In heaven envy, malevolence and murmuring will find no place. On the contrary, the saints who have long served God wonder at His goodness in converting sinners and those who have served Him but a short time, for these also there will be the same penny, that is, the vision, the enjoyment, and possession of God and His kingdom. Only in the heavenly glory there will be a difference because the divine lips have assured us that each one shall be rewarded according to his works. The murmurs of the workmen and the answer of the householder serve to teach us, that we should not murmur against the merciful proceedings of God towards our neighbor, nor envy him; for envy and jealousy are abominable, devilish vices, hated by God. By the envy of the, devil, death came into the world. (Wisd. II. 24.) The envious therefore, imitate Lucifer, but they hurt only themselves, because they are consumed by their envy. "Envy," says St. Basil "is an institution of the serpent, an invention of the devils, an obstacle to piety, a road to hell, the depriver of the heavenly kingdom.”

What is meant by: The first shall be last, and the last shall be first?

This again is properly to be understood of the Jews; for they were the first called, but will be the last in order, as in time, because they responded not to Christ's invitation, received not His doctrine, and will enter the Church only at the end of the world; while, on the contrary, the Gentiles who where not called until after the Jews, will be the first in number as in merit, because the greater part responded and are still responding to the call. Christ, indeed, called all the Jews, but few of them answered, therefore few were chosen. Would that this might not also come true with regard to Christians whom God has also called, and whom He wishes to save. (I. Tim. II. 4.) Alas! very few live in accordance with their vocation of working in the vineyard of the Lord, and, consequently, do not receive the penny of eternal bliss.

PRAYER O most benign God, who, out of pure grace, without any merit of ours, hast called us, Thy unworthy servants, to the true faith, into the vineyard of the holy Catholic Church, and dost require us to work in it for the sanctification of our souls, grant, we beseech Thee, that we may never be idle but be found always faithful workmen, and that that which in past years we have failed to do, we may make up for in future by greater zeal and persevering industry, and, the work being done, may receive the promised reward in heaven, through Jesus Christ, Thy Son our, Lord. Amen.

#septuagesima sunday

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lawrenceop · 4 years

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Holy Land Retrospective - Day 7

Reminder: clicking on the link for each photo (links are all in red text) will take you to the Flickr page where you can see the photo in larger sizes.

Start with DAY 1, or flip through DAY 2, DAY 3, DAY 4, DAY 5, or DAY 6. Or just read on!

THE LORD’S DAY IN JERUSALEM

“Now after the sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the sepulchre.” – Mt 28:1

This was my first Sunday in the Holy City of Jerusalem, and it was the Third Sunday of Easter. So, on this day, after the Sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, I went with a very few other pilgrims, to go and see the Holy Sepulchre.

We were told it opens at 5 a.m. so we left the hotel at 4:30 a.m., and we walked the short distance to the church of the Holy Sepulchre, pausing three times as we went. At each pause, I read one of the Gospel accounts of the first Easter morning, from one of the Synoptic Gospels.

“And very early on the first day of the week they went to the tomb when the sun had risen. And they were saying to one another, "Who will roll away the stone for us from the door of the tomb?"” – Mk 16:2-3

As we walked in silence, I observed the light in the sky, and felt the coolness of the morning air, trying to imagine what those women saw as they went to the tomb with such devotion, with spices to anoint the body of Jesus, hence the question about how they would gain access to the tomb.

“And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body.” – Luke 24:2-3

The forecourt of the church was silent, all was still, and there were only one or two monks around. Inside, the doors of the Holy Sepulchre were closed as the round of Divine Liturgies were already taking place inside. In fact, the vigils and prayers and liturgies from the various Christian groups do not stop inside this church even when the doors are locked.

PHOTO 31: Pausing for a quick prayer outside the Holy Sepulchre, we continued to this hidden chapel just a stone’s throw from the Empty Tomb of Christ. Standing in this place, I read from the Easter account from the Fourth Gospel:

“Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb. So she ran, and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him." Peter then came out with the other disciple, and they went toward the tomb. They both ran, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first; and stooping to look in, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb; he saw the linen cloths lying, and the napkin, which had been on his head, not lying with the linen cloths but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not know the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples went back to their homes.” – John 20:1-10

Why had we come here? The photo above shows you what we saw. What is it? This is the entrance to a tomb, from the time of Jesus; a 1st-century Jewish grave cut into the rock. Jesus was buried in a tomb like this, and the Empty Tomb itself, now surrounded by the Aedicule, and covered in marble and silver and silk would once have looked very much like this. Indeed, some say that this is the tomb that Joseph of Arimathea made for himself after he had given away his tomb to Jesus. And the stone that would have covered the opening and sealed it is not here; rolled away.

So, on an Easter morning, I had wanted to trace the footsteps of the holy women, of St Mary Magdalene, and to stand and pray in front of an empty tomb that looked much like what the disciples would have found that first Easter morning.

“And looking up, they saw that the stone was rolled back; -- it was very large. And entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe; and they were amazed. And he said to them, "Do not be amazed; you seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen, he is not here; see the place where they laid him.” – Mk 16:4-6

Some of us went into this tomb, others went away in silence to pray by the Holy Sepulchre itself, and I went to the Catholic chapel of St Mary Magdalene, to that area where it is believed that the Risen Lord met Mary:

“But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. They said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him." Saying this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek?" Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away." Jesus said to her, "Mary." She turned and said to him in Hebrew, "Rabboni!" (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, "Do not hold me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brethren and say to them, I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God." Mary Magdalene went and said to the disciples, "I have seen the Lord"; and she told them that he had said these things to her.” – Jn 20:11-18

Then, like the first disciples, having visited the Empty Tomb early that Third Easter Sunday morning in 2019, we went back to our hotel rooms.

PHOTO 32: As we were about to leave the Holy Sepulchre, just by the door leading out to the courtyard, I noticed this. Typically, these stairs are crowded with people making their way up to Calvary, to the site of the Crucifixion. But at this time, early in the morning, it was possible to see these beautiful stones, ancient and worn by countless pilgrims’ feet; elegantly curved and bathed in golden light.

Seen in the light of Easter, the Cross becomes a sign of hope; a promise of life after death; a doorway in our ascent as pilgrims to eternal life in heaven.

“We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men.” – 1 Cor 1:23-25

PHOTO 33: For the rest of the group, after our early rise on Saturday for the Stations of the Cross, this Sunday was to be a more relaxed day. After a leisurely breakfast, we walked along the outside of the walls of Jerusalem to the Lions Gate which opens onto the Muslim Quarter, and leads to the Via Dolorosa. The minaret of the Al-Aqsa mosque, the most important Muslim holy site in Jerusalem, which was built on the Temple Mount, is visible in the background of this photo.

The focus of this shot, however, are these deep red poppies. One of the things I did not expect in the Holy Land is the variety and colour and size of the flowers growing throughout the land. These wild poppies grew among the graves that surround the external walls of the city; many pious souls of all three religions want to be buried facing Jerusalem.

In Britain, red poppies like these are always displayed in November, the month of remembrance, and they are a reminder of our soldiers fallen in battle because they grew in abundance in the fields of Flanders where countless soldiers had died in the First World War. Seeing them growing among the graves around Jerusalem reiterated the point, that these flowers are a summons to remember the dead, and the blood that was shed in war. However, the beauty and vibrance of these blood red poppies are also, it seems to me, a sign of the Resurrection, a promise of life after death through the blood of Jesus Christ which he shed for our salvation.

“But you have come to Mount Sion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the first-born who are enrolled in heaven, and to a judge who is God of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks more graciously than the blood of Abel.” – Heb 12:22-24

PHOTO 34: Going through the Lions Gate, it was a short walk to the church of Saint Anne which, rather unusually, sits on grounds which belongs to the Republic of France. Within these grounds are the substantial ruins of a Byzantine church that stood over some pools of water fed by springs. This is the Pool of Bethesda where, as told in John 5:1-13, Jesus healed a paralytic: “Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Hebrew called Bethesda, which has five porticoes.” (Jn 5:1)

At the time of Christ, the Gate nearby wasn’t called Lions Gate but the Sheep Gate since the sheep from the fields outside the city were driven into the city through this gate, and they were led into this area where there was a cattle market next to the pool where the cattle would have drunk. Here, the cattle would be sold for the Temple sacrifices; the Temple Mount is nearby. However, this place of the healing miracle wasn’t our main destination, for right next to this archaeological site was a large 12th-century church.

For the father of Our Lady, St Joachim, was one of these cattle owners, and his home was next to the cattle market by the pool of Bethesda. So, from the earliest days, a Marian church was built over the site of the cave shown in this photo for this is where St Joachim and St Anne had their home. This is the birthplace of Mary! Hence the Gate nearby has another name in Arabic, the Bab Sitti Maryam, ‘Lady Mary’s Gate’.

The church that stands on this site is the one that survives from the time of the Crusaders who built it in the early Gothic style, and it is renowned for its acoustics. In fact I found it to be not particularly remarkable, not significantly different from the fine acoustics of any stone medieval church since these buildings were made for sung Masses and the sung Divine Office. However, I couldn’t resist joining the choirs singing in this sacred space so I sang the Dominican ‘Regina Caeli’ which one of our pilgrims recorded.

Regina caeli, laetare, alleluia, Quia quem meruisti portare, alleluia, Resurrexit sicut dixit, alleluia, Ora pro nobis Deum, alleluia. O Queen of heaven, be joyful, alleluia, For He whom you have humbly borne for us, alleluia, Has arisen, as He promised, alleluia, Offer now our prayer to God, alleluia.

PHOTO 35: From St Anne’s church, it was a short walk, maybe fifteen minutes, to the Temple Mount, or at least to the site of the Wailing Wall. As it was a Sunday, it wasn’t as busy as it might have been, but there were many families present and celebrating the bar mitzvah of their sons; teenage boys nervously (and even in tears) chanting from the Torah for the first time as their proud parents looked on encouragingly. Jewish cantors led processions to the Western Wall, singing and banging drums, and playing instruments while a canopy was held over the boy at the centre of all this attention as he had reached the age of moral maturity. There’s a video somewhere of my group getting caught up in one such procession, and an enthusiastic cantor grabbed me by the hand and led us in a dance on the street!

I was very moved by these sights and sounds and by these celebrations, and moved to be at the foot of the Temple Mount, at this ancient place of prayer. In the photo above, we see a man in prayer with phylacteries (or tefillin) wrapped around his arms and on his head.

Jesus and his family and his disciples knew this place well; it was the focus of their prayer and worship, as it still is for so many Jews. I imagined Jesus, as a boy around the age of these boys, coming to Jerusalem with his family for festal celebrations. I thought of him, aged 12, found here at the Temple, teaching his elders from the Torah. And I recalled that as an adult he was frequently in the Temple, observing the people, teaching them, and engaged in debate with others. He was “at home” here, for this was his Father’s house.

“After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions; and all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. And when they saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, "Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been looking for you anxiously." And he said to them, "How is it that you sought me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?"And they did not understand the saying which he spoke to them.” – Lk 2:46-50

PHOTO 36: From these ancient places of worship, we went for Sunday Mass in a place of significance for Catholics but which is relatively recent. Built in 1869, and beautifully renovated in 1985, we celebrated the Third Sunday of Easter in the Franciscan church of the Holy Saviour (San Salvatore), which is the parish church for Latin rite Catholics in Jerusalem.

On that Sunday, we heard this reading proclaiming Jesus as our holy Saviour:

“Peter and the apostles answered, "We must obey God rather than men. The God of our fathers raised Jesus whom you killed by hanging him on a tree. God exalted him at his right hand as Leader and Saviour, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. And we are witnesses to these things, and so is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him."” – Acts 5:29-32

Indeed, standing here in the Holy Land on this Third Easter Sunday, we are witnesses to these things!

SUNDAY AFTERNOON

This afternoon, the group was taken to lunch by the Dead Sea, and we spent the rest of the afternoon there relaxing in the water, or by a watering hole, baking in the mud, or riding a camel!

Tomorrow: Carmel and Cana.

#Holy Land #pilgrimage #retrospective #reflections #Easter #holy sepulchre #resurrection #Jesus Christ #206 Tours

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keywestlou · 4 years

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HOLY THURSDAY.....VENERATION OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT

Holy Thursday is probably the least emotional of the Holy Week holidays for Christians. In the life of Christ, the Last Supper, washing of the feet, Gethsemane, and finally Jesus’ arrest.

It is celebrated today as a veneration of Christ. Christ in the form of the a Blessed Host.

When I was young, as far back as grammar school, Catholics visited different Catholic Churche on Holy Thursday. The interior of each was dark, except for a small altar off to the side. There stood a gold frame within which was the Holy Eucharist. The symbol of God’s body.

The altar upon which it stood was buried in green and white. Green type shrubs and white flowers. My recollection is distinct regarding this.

I was raised that we were to visit an odd number of Churches. Don’t know why odd in number. Some thought the requirement only 7.

Through high school, it was a competition among young friends. See who could visit the most Churches.

We walked from Church to Church. Some 2 miles apart. Saw friends and neighbors along the way. Streets full with people coming and going.

A combined religious and fun time.

Tomorrow a bad day. The Crucifixion of Christ. Another day, another story.

In my trips to Milan, I always stopped into the Duomo Cathedral. Majestically sitting at one end of the Square. A huge edifice. Magnificent.

On one of the trips, it was exceptionally hot. I was tired. Close to exhaustion. One thing I learned in my travels is that Churches are generally cool.

I went in. Like a refrigerator.

I sat down away from the people traffic next to a large concrete post. Fell asleep! An hour later, someone was tapping me on the shoulder to wake me. One of the attendants: “Sir, you cannot sleep here.”

My first thought was that not even God wanted me that afternoon. I forgot to mention at the beginning of this story that I had fallen down the train station steps when I arrived in Milan. I had a cut on my head where the blood had dried. A cut on my arm also. And my right leg hurt like hell!

The attendant probably thought I was a bum looking for a place to hang out.

Why Duomo Cathedral today? The famous opera singer Andrea Bocelli is singing live at the Duomo Cathedral on Easter Sunday. To an empty Church. One pm eastern standard time. His performance should be available on U.S. television.

Two dear friends are Bob Marks and Al Cotoia. From different eras of my life. Though I know both, they do not know each other.

A few days ago, I was playing with my cell phone. I had been having problems with it. I was home self quarantined and Verizon was closed. I thought I had it working. I could not do my short afternoon podcast without it.

I finally was able to see my face for a few seconds. Up close. Made my face look fat. Additionally, my beard had not been trimmed in more than a month. Bushy. My fault. I trim it. I was too lazy. Who was going to see me?

I even had a half inch of hair on my somewhat bald head.

Bob wrote commenting on the beard. Think he said I looked like Santa Claus. Al wrote and said I looked fat. Al’s comment hurt! The truth always does.

My face was on the screen only 10 seconds. I was testing. I thought I deleted it. Obviously not.

Yesterday I dealt with the problem. Trimmed my beard back to normal. Thin and lovely.

The head hair another problem. I have a beautician who trims it for me. She takes a power razor, puts it on “1” and runs it over my head 1, 2, 3. All done!

I never cut my hair with any tool. I gave it a shot with by electric beard razor. I was terrific! Got it all off!

When I was done with everything, I felt like little Jack Horner. Remember, he was sitting in a corner eating his pumpkin pie, stuck in his thumb, and pulled out a plumb. And said, Oh, what a good boy am I!

I felt like Jack Horner.

My thanks to Bob and Al in motivating me. I look beautiful! And thinner!

Key West is located in Monroe County. The coronavirus numbers continue to rise.

Total, 52 cases. Seven hospitalized. Three have died. The most recent a 31 year old woman. Twenty four of the 52 cases located in Key West

Deaths state wide total 24.

Moses said to Pharaoh, “Let my people go!”

People today say coronavirus should go.

Read a comment by Hemingway concerning Key West in the 1930’s. The years Hemingway lived in Key West. Key West was extremely poor at the time. The depression in its peak.

Hemingway nevertheless loved the life style of Key West. He referred to it as “the St. Tropez of the poor.”

I have written about Mom’s Tea Room several times. A whore house, a house of ill repute.

First run in Key West. Closed down by the authorities. Reopened on Stock Island.

The bordello did a big business on Stock Island. The Navy base was stationed nearby with horny young sailors.

One problem. The Navy did not approve. Morally and health wise. The Navy was constantly harassing the civil authorities to close Mom’s down.

The situation contained a bit of humor. Local authorities never admitted the existence of Mom’s. Nor did the Navy. Finally however the Navy pressure behind the scenes became too much and the locals closed Mom’s down.

The financial crisis attendant to coronavirus affects government jobs, also. Monroe County announced it would be laying off 100 of its 525 employees.

I was born in 1935. We did not have a telephone till sometime during World War II. A dial phone. Four party line. Then a two party line. Then our line!

Prior to dial phones, calls were made through an operator. You called the operator and gave her the number to connect you to.

The Keys were a little late in getting dial phones. Actually, quite late.

The first dial phone in the Keys was installed in 1960 in a home on Sugarloaf Key.

I lived in my Key Haven home 23 years. It sat on open water. Views spectacular.

Sunrise was a special time. On occasion, I would role out of bed early and sit outside. Watch the sun come up. Very quiet that early. No one around, except for 3 dolphins playing 100-2000 feet away from me. Up and down, up and down.

I assumed they were a family. Father, mother and child. The family continued for several years. Then there were only 2. I assumed the child had taken off on his own. Could never be sure, however.

The remaining 2 continued their playful time at sunrise for years thereafter.

Those few moments in the morning were reminiscent of God’s in His Heaven, all’s right with the world.

I conclude with some “kind” thoughts re Trump. Actually not mine. Those of the New York Times columnist Frank Bruni. Though I agree with everything he wrote.

Bruni’s words/thoughts from his opinion column yesterday.

“He’s a man whose soul went missing.”

Trump does not tell the truth, is petty, mean, has a martyr complex, and passes the buck.

“He’s ill equipped for this moment.”

“This prophet just demands an even greater magnitude of worship. And he grows all the more furious when he doesn’t get it.”

Day 30 for me of self-quarantine. I’m doing well. If I did’t research and write, I might not.

How a quarantined person lives. One phase. Groceries.

I have them delivered from Publix. Just arrived. I had to leave to clean the groceries and store them. I wash everything (and I mean everything) with a disinfectant. Then store. Most in freezer.

Wearing plastic gloves, of course.

Process takes a while. I am tired at the moment.

Still alive though.

I figure another 30 days to go. I’ll make it.

My friend Theo Markis called from Greece a few minutes ago while I was working on the blog. A good man. We met last year when he was visiting Key West.

Reads the blog every day. Love him! He was to have visited Key West 2 months ago again. Obviously could not. Greece has the coronavirus problem also. Not the big deal as here. Only 50-70 died so far. However, as with the U.S., no one working.

Enjoy your day!

HOLY THURSDAY…..VENERATION OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT was originally published on Key West Lou

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