tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11497734231054212142024-03-13T00:32:48.625-07:00Glimpse of Peacea Catholic perspectiveBRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.comBlogger805125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-23851450671398091942014-03-25T12:56:00.000-07:002014-03-25T12:56:26.247-07:00Annunciation Day {3 years ago today}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFxQRKUJ0V80YsWg-llnkESV5t_GT0u-vFUA4X5SXR979DK_zHdddw4MaBSQVkPhqd73bK0FQueVKCXUuPf92_uOeDmYPMBFgwJbSyERQas_NCLFiAkWLLqDsiepHjniDhox1xhkV_4kQ/s1600/SAM_0352.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFxQRKUJ0V80YsWg-llnkESV5t_GT0u-vFUA4X5SXR979DK_zHdddw4MaBSQVkPhqd73bK0FQueVKCXUuPf92_uOeDmYPMBFgwJbSyERQas_NCLFiAkWLLqDsiepHjniDhox1xhkV_4kQ/s640/SAM_0352.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>High altar in the Pantheon (Church of St. Mary and the Martyrs); ready for Mass on the Solemnity of the Annunciation</i></td></tr>
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<b><span style="color: red;"><i>Three years ago today, on the feast day of the <a href="http://catholicism.about.com/od/holydaysandholidays/p/Annunciation.htm">Annunciation</a>, our family explored Rome on the first day of our 2011 family pilgrimage to Italy...</i></span></b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Continued from <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-1-new-york-city-layover.html">Day 1 {New York City Layover}</a></b><br />
<br />
<b>Groggy, but determined to stay awake until bedtime,</b> our
first day in Rome was like an initiation of sorts. We held on for dear
life on the shuttle ride to our flat from the airport, amazed that the
driver could stay on the road while chatting on his cell phone, shifting
gears, and honking simultaneously. Our flat, too, has myriad
complications, mostly relating to a schedule of turning on and off
appliances we take for granted at home (water heater, furnace) and doing
so without going over 3 kilowatts. "<i>If you have a black-out</i>," our landlord informed us, "<i>find Pete in the next building.</i>" Black-outs happen when the legally enforced <u>3 kw of power per day</u> is exceeded .<br />
<br />
<b>A jaunt into the city without a map, snacks, or warm layers </b>proved
to be quite difficult, particularly when we got slightly lost as
everyone was hungry and the cool evening began to fall. We opted to
grab gelatos and visit the next site we came upon, rather than continue
our unsuccessful search for the Colosseum. We landed at the Pantheon,
and entered a crowded, loud, amazing circular space. Only a few minutes
later, a bishop wearing a magenta cassock began ushering hundreds of
tourists out, as a loud speaker announced that the Pantheon was closing
for Mass. We opted to stay.<br />
<br />
<b>The Solemnity of the Annunciation</b>
was being celebrated by our world-wide Church on this day, and we were
just in time for the Holy Mass offered by a cardinal for a small group
of pilgrims. Before Mass we spent a holy hour in the presence of Jesus,
as the bishop led a Rosary in Italian and the cardinal heard
confessions. Unfortunately, the temperature inside the Church of St.
Mary and the Martyrs (the Pantheon) probably dipped into the low 40's,
and we froze throughout the beautiful, solemn high Mass. A formal
procession with a relic veneration followed Mass, and our family joined
the final ceremony before taking one last glimpse of the Pantheon.<b> </b>At the altar known as #7, a magnificent artistic rendition of the <a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Annunciation_Melozzo_da_Forli_Pantheon.jpg">"Annunciation" by Melozzo da Forli</a> brought us even closer to the mystery of the day.<br />
<br />
<b>Navigating the Metro on our way home</b>
was an experience unto itself. We purchased five 7 day passes and took
a round-a-bout path on our journey home. The well-signed subway system
is easy enough to navigate, but perhaps owing to serious sleep
deprivation, we weren't paying close enough attention and got on the
wrong train. Tim caught our misstep shortly after we pulled out of the
station, so we hopped off at the next stop, went back, and started over.<br />
<br />
<b>As we tucked ourselves in for the night, </b>we had to wonder: <i>just how long has it been since we slept on a plastic mattress</i>? We're excited for another day in Rome tomorrow (with snacks, maps, and extra layers). <br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-3-settling-in.html">Day 3 {Rome: St. Mary Major; St. Praessede}</a> follows.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Noteworthy:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>It's hard to be comfortable on an 8+ hr flight when you spill your
orange juice on your lap and all over your seat (just ask Peter).</li>
<li>One fleece jacket forgotten on the shuttle van from airport... will
it be seen again? Or will Peter suffer on the chilly Italian evenings?</li>
<li>Spell check isn't working here, it must be Italian spell check by
default. I'm curious to find out just how many misspelled words my
posts will have without the usual fix!</li>
</ul>
BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-64970902651280346492014-01-24T16:16:00.000-08:002014-01-24T16:16:40.331-08:00Sts.Timothy and Maura {Married Martyrs}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="St. Timothy" height="367" id="san_timoteo" name="san_timoteo" src="http://www.earlychristians.org/images/catechesis/san_timoteo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="271" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Saint Timothy, Pray for us!</i></td></tr>
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<b>Heartbreaking news of yet another marriage and family destroyed by divorce</b> serves as the inspiration to share this fine sermon from Audio Sancto: <a href="http://files.audiosancto.org/20140111-The-Sweet-Cross-of-Matrimony.mp3">The Sweet Cross of Matrimony</a>. Treat yourself to twenty minutes of solid teaching and encouragement on marriage, beginning with the sweet love story of the married martyrs Saints Timothy and Maura, crucified facing one another only twenty days after their wedding. These two offered their very lives rather than turning over the Sacred Scriptures to be destroyed. <br />
<br />
Stay strong, people. <br />
Live for God.<br />
Love your cross.<br />
<br />
<b><i>Saints Timothy and Maura, pray for us!</i></b><br />
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<br />BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-12351403052394252032013-12-23T07:52:00.001-08:002013-12-23T07:52:38.061-08:00Brotherhood Revisited {Full House for Christmas}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKc__34ZDSAw-G0WZfl5mALhN0bQvf4QwlPYInQk48lqDZhN-3uvD1t7RkrJFHmU40kJGLQ07i7f-1t1-9ISbX02d-PzcLDxq_b77cCOIME-6La1Ur5Ky057VZd3ohUXc37SY5_gd_jPE/s1600/DSC_0264.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKc__34ZDSAw-G0WZfl5mALhN0bQvf4QwlPYInQk48lqDZhN-3uvD1t7RkrJFHmU40kJGLQ07i7f-1t1-9ISbX02d-PzcLDxq_b77cCOIME-6La1Ur5Ky057VZd3ohUXc37SY5_gd_jPE/s640/DSC_0264.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Under obedience to photographer-mom, Zachary holds his little foster sister for the first time, as Peter assists.</i></td></tr>
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<b>"Are you glad to have your son home?"</b> a friend at Church asked before Mass yesterday.<br />
"Son<u><b>s</b></u>. Yes, very glad to have them home!" I answered honestly.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Our family reunification project - aka Christmas Vacation -</b> has begun in earnest, with dual arrivals within 24 hours: Peter from Christ the King high school seminary in BC, and Zachary from sophomore year studies at Notre Dame. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjiBe0xeGlTRGaGF9XU3hsPePyYIKGgwbpr4NtZmjCf0C9cIY9Hpiytjn-2_Dm-OVExHY0jyBxc0k_rILjjEQJP5GZll6s9MrX_wJeHsp5nGw06lzUR1-090SJV66cWl3r5BEHVOPr1o/s1600/DSC_0267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjiBe0xeGlTRGaGF9XU3hsPePyYIKGgwbpr4NtZmjCf0C9cIY9Hpiytjn-2_Dm-OVExHY0jyBxc0k_rILjjEQJP5GZll6s9MrX_wJeHsp5nGw06lzUR1-090SJV66cWl3r5BEHVOPr1o/s640/DSC_0267.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Learning new skills on Christmas Break, Zachary comforts a newborn.</i></td></tr>
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<b>Zachary's homecoming package included</b> an introduction to his foster sister (known on the blog as) <i>Angelina</i>. After being home for a few days, Zac asked if <i>Angelina</i> does anything other than sleep and eat, but so far only one fussy stretch and a few alert moments have convinced him otherwise.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Back to the joys of brotherhood,</b> our three guys have enjoyed time together doing guy things like working out after dark in the snow and watching the televised Seahawks game with Tim on his birthday. This time with a full house will surely fly by, but we will certainly do our best to make the most of our every moment together. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter shows 'Luke' and 'Leia' the ornaments on our tree.</i></td></tr>
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<b>Hosting our former foster twins for two days</b>, a favor to their mom whose work schedule conflicted with the daycare holiday closure, brings us ever more family fun in these final days before we celebrate the birth of Christ. So much joy, such great times to cherish... </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivy7BSdh8iU4FdDFmP5a_tiqfZZnYRALAy_YVo9dERErmNbny4gBnHCbNipXJhmu_eoEYWAhWcFACYKMjuX11_kiuTJuKuC-cuwG93ev0kF_RLAhM8xFe2OvE-9X4g8kWiqgyvt7dEs0o/s1600/DSCN6659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivy7BSdh8iU4FdDFmP5a_tiqfZZnYRALAy_YVo9dERErmNbny4gBnHCbNipXJhmu_eoEYWAhWcFACYKMjuX11_kiuTJuKuC-cuwG93ev0kF_RLAhM8xFe2OvE-9X4g8kWiqgyvt7dEs0o/s640/DSCN6659.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter continues the Christmas decor tour with little friends in tow.</i></td></tr>
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<br />BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-61231787926548460202013-12-18T08:26:00.000-08:002013-12-18T08:26:27.708-08:00Training Future Fathers {On Handling a Newborn}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYgUVC776mAK07T6RERcJ16B5pUTdjhECJ7yTEnJCjxHFwqV1EMcyeIFwL4RI_2O5BV0mnzk83hndc27NOMTn4Nt7LRS_C0xZwmTnNUXBKN2daHJdhzjYqZU9TuXl28Rnl8aJ5wjaMQE/s1600/DSC_0109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYgUVC776mAK07T6RERcJ16B5pUTdjhECJ7yTEnJCjxHFwqV1EMcyeIFwL4RI_2O5BV0mnzk83hndc27NOMTn4Nt7LRS_C0xZwmTnNUXBKN2daHJdhzjYqZU9TuXl28Rnl8aJ5wjaMQE/s640/DSC_0109.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Pre-performance </i> <i>rehearsal</i> <i>with first time baby handlers and 'Angelina'</i></td></tr>
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<b>When Father Abbot suggested</b> little <i>Angelina</i> play the part of baby Jesus in Peter's high school Advent play, we were quick to give our consent. The high school boys were delighted to have a real live baby in the play, rather than the lifeless doll with which they'd been rehearsing. But their delight was tainted with a dose of understandable nervousness, given that the two young men with baby handling parts were novices in handling a newborn.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tim gives a few baby handling pointers to the cast of Christ the King's Advent play before showtime.</i></td></tr>
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<b>Tim gladly stepped up to the task of training the guys</b> in the fine art of baby handling, meeting about an hour before show time to offer a few pointers and allow for hands-on experience under close supervision. The guys warmed up to <i>Angelina</i> right away, and practiced picking her up and passing her off, two important movements for 'baby Jesus' in the upcoming Advent show.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlRnqNvBbDO6JpVkurCQoaK6GlKk1bWmubTMxmnpWvMIM6tZDeYMTHj7w-VBBcCdI_JN7kzvrcw_E5PVSJYU8oO_IcwCPw4wc6lKeAoSpjnQUOIKQHSB8HEmPF-IYSjgELTlsmyb_p6IQ/s1600/DSC_0114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlRnqNvBbDO6JpVkurCQoaK6GlKk1bWmubTMxmnpWvMIM6tZDeYMTHj7w-VBBcCdI_JN7kzvrcw_E5PVSJYU8oO_IcwCPw4wc6lKeAoSpjnQUOIKQHSB8HEmPF-IYSjgELTlsmyb_p6IQ/s640/DSC_0114.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Rehearsing the hand-off of baby 'Jesus'</i></td></tr>
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<b>As the time for curtain drew near</b>, we prayed that our little foster daughter would remain calm and quiet for her debut performance as our Newborn King. Our prayers were answered, as <i>Angelina</i> gave only the slightest indication of liveliness during the show, squirming a bit in the arms of 'Mother Mary' to the excitement of the audience, many of whom had assumed the figure was probably a doll.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvlXv1u2kd7DTCmb5MLRdtnsaK234TMgA3IUJQWXoqG7BuzbZirnBHmM8TNjqq7fx0_pirxGS4RBspTIODjHwfy5mRvi8NYj4Zfkmz6Rl7kjH4CmgclNjX8etKV1dUN0dzPiTLO3D7bI/s1600/DSC_0135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvlXv1u2kd7DTCmb5MLRdtnsaK234TMgA3IUJQWXoqG7BuzbZirnBHmM8TNjqq7fx0_pirxGS4RBspTIODjHwfy5mRvi8NYj4Zfkmz6Rl7kjH4CmgclNjX8etKV1dUN0dzPiTLO3D7bI/s640/DSC_0135.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Three Kings pay homage to baby Jesus in the arms of Mary.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDxfimcYtFRxp1DtmXGVGzNyfMxzWSXuqPolSw9DhozzKpssi90yMl1kSDipcPm4jPiSxyBFiGP77mrQmO7FOQhDead08tle9jwnO0hculfAFmXDJsZAPAvAA1KBHgZLFanFDMuQbZ9I/s1600/DSC_0179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDxfimcYtFRxp1DtmXGVGzNyfMxzWSXuqPolSw9DhozzKpssi90yMl1kSDipcPm4jPiSxyBFiGP77mrQmO7FOQhDead08tle9jwnO0hculfAFmXDJsZAPAvAA1KBHgZLFanFDMuQbZ9I/s640/DSC_0179.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cast of Christ the King's Advent play, with our son Peter the centurion</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFb-Jm1XoJi4FQkgNLDnm8h99JKz2C9FM215SEkx-NFT5YtMCc_gO3Gu25EsMBQBK4bvPfjeFKMaFaQb3UbxHGahksjOn54g9uvhPPq7XU792qNY5tkvvCfqwoQ0ryQ6y6vk1R3XK36Q/s1600/DSC_0120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="419" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFb-Jm1XoJi4FQkgNLDnm8h99JKz2C9FM215SEkx-NFT5YtMCc_gO3Gu25EsMBQBK4bvPfjeFKMaFaQb3UbxHGahksjOn54g9uvhPPq7XU792qNY5tkvvCfqwoQ0ryQ6y6vk1R3XK36Q/s640/DSC_0120.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Seminary of Christ the King's high school orchestra performs at the Advent program.</i></td></tr>
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<b>In addition to the great privilege of delivering the 'baby Jesus'</b> for the high school play, we enjoyed an outstanding Advent program by the high school and college seminarians of Christ the King. The high school orchestra, though only a few months along, performed pieces suited for third year, including a favorite piece from <i>Lord of the Rings,</i> and pulled them off beautifully under the direction of Father Peter Nygren. The entertaining vignette put on by the major seminarians highlighted their unique skills and abilities, including a humorous and fantastic martial arts display and a rousing Celtic musical number. Under Father Prior Benedict, the high school boys' choir sang "O Holy Night" in its original French, an angelic delight for those of us in the audience.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIGmHxf-AKnQt3qHrfP7ydUy-wSm5qOVJR7WQ7p4Ub7d-nb-s7UeQkn8LvmLXdjNqEPY_1CeqL37QTrH8zWpIU4pRXBPqUfi9zecW4Wk0pQO6if0z26ItyT2m9rjXY5XOhnVEfdmc9lY/s1600/DSC_0182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIGmHxf-AKnQt3qHrfP7ydUy-wSm5qOVJR7WQ7p4Ub7d-nb-s7UeQkn8LvmLXdjNqEPY_1CeqL37QTrH8zWpIU4pRXBPqUfi9zecW4Wk0pQO6if0z26ItyT2m9rjXY5XOhnVEfdmc9lY/s640/DSC_0182.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bridget, Peter and baby 'Angelina'</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Our heartfelt thanks to the monks, teachers and prayer warriors</b> at Christ the King Seminary and Westminster Abbey. We trust that your efforts, by God's grace, will have everlasting results in the lives of our son(s) and in our families.<br />
<br />BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-9418237716451680412013-12-15T20:15:00.000-08:002013-12-15T20:15:33.661-08:00Low Mass {+2 New Altar Boys}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKNSkvg9FcBL8lmM9mxp7_tcmHlkx9jvaOl92P8j3O3VwWldqWhIstEPp1ElElmtMjoDcVMJYDwtTyLS4FmaxoXT2sOXvQDtC77_nZktMetQT99Gl_VdvYlyQYN83s0eo5pGenvoJecc/s1600/DSC_0197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKNSkvg9FcBL8lmM9mxp7_tcmHlkx9jvaOl92P8j3O3VwWldqWhIstEPp1ElElmtMjoDcVMJYDwtTyLS4FmaxoXT2sOXvQDtC77_nZktMetQT99Gl_VdvYlyQYN83s0eo5pGenvoJecc/s640/DSC_0197.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph assists Father Saguto with candle lighting before low Mass on <a href="http://catholicism.about.com/od/holydaysandholidays/f/Gaudete_Sunday.htm">Gaudete Sunday</a>, Holyrood Cemetery Chapel.</i></td></tr>
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<b>After almost a year of training and memorizing</b> the Latin responses, Joseph and his friend Jonah had the privilege of serving their first low Mass in the Extraordinary Form at dawn on Gaudete Sunday in a cemetery chapel about an hour and half from home. This 'old' form of the Mass <a href="http://www.realclearreligion.org/articles/2013/01/03/the_rise_of_latin_youth.html">appeals in a very particular way to many young people</a>, our boys included.<br />
<br />
<b>Benedict XVI re-opened the door for the 'old' Mass</b> in 2007 with his Apostolic Letter <a href="http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/letters/2007/documents/hf_ben-xvi_let_20070707_lettera-vescovi_en.html">Summorum Ponitificum</a>. Interestingly, Benedict XVI specifically noted the appeal of the Traditional Latin Mass for young Catholics:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"Immediately after the Second Vatican Council it was presumed that
requests for the use of the 1962 Missal would be limited to the older generation
which had grown up with it, but in the meantime it has clearly been demonstrated
that young persons too have discovered this liturgical form, felt its attraction
and found in it a form of encounter with the Mystery of the Most Holy Eucharist,
particularly suited to them</i>." <span style="color: #663300; font-size: small;">© Copyright 2007 - Libreria Editrice Vaticana</span></blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUHiyof5stBoLBcR0ZLaBIRerF7DIp-dPSc0riFzFwW0sn167OGspIu9DR_WAJBjPkpIpgdkAYazj559FYJ2P8Po6SmMEMDq-Rp_JCu6Z0r_Q_yfSBuF2uBAHb7e2YOP8Aqtfx172Mkw/s1600/DSC_0201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUHiyof5stBoLBcR0ZLaBIRerF7DIp-dPSc0riFzFwW0sn167OGspIu9DR_WAJBjPkpIpgdkAYazj559FYJ2P8Po6SmMEMDq-Rp_JCu6Z0r_Q_yfSBuF2uBAHb7e2YOP8Aqtfx172Mkw/s640/DSC_0201.JPG" width="422" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph and Jonah assist Fr. Vreeland at low Mass on Gaudete Sunday in Edmonds, WA.</i></td></tr>
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<b>A look around the congregation in the Extraordinary Form Mass</b> seems to validate that the 'old' form of the Mass appeals to young people. The pews are packed with young Catholics, truly engaged and actively participating in the Mass. Many young men eagerly assist at Mass as altar boys, a great privilege to be sure. Even the very small children are seemingly drawn into the mysteries of the Mass and show age-appropriate reverence and participation. <br />
<br />
<b>Another interesting phenomenon to note </b>in an Extraordinary Form congregation is the average size of the families in attendance. These authentic Catholic marriages ~ couples living true to their sacred vows with an 'openness to life' and the faithful rejection of artificial contraception and sterilization ~ are truly inspiring to see on such a large scale. Extraordinary indeed, and while large Catholic families are not found only in Latin Mass congregations by any means, they simply seem more plentiful here.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2lA7MmjC9PF_Z0CQg2M5lxkeWbSpshF8TDAt2tswsCptzhwjuaOMP_l944Tqi9GnLO09cEVOc0fbyz-dLIAUjzOBg_k-DSjK0wAmUqohQTw3vnGaUkAmddD6qoELNJjZOUaA3lVYU2U/s1600/DSC_0202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL2lA7MmjC9PF_Z0CQg2M5lxkeWbSpshF8TDAt2tswsCptzhwjuaOMP_l944Tqi9GnLO09cEVOc0fbyz-dLIAUjzOBg_k-DSjK0wAmUqohQTw3vnGaUkAmddD6qoELNJjZOUaA3lVYU2U/s640/DSC_0202.JPG" width="408" /></a></div>
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<b>Before heading off to high school seminary</b>, our youngest son,
Peter, had nearly completed his formal training to serve Latin Mass, and
was very eager to do so. However, his distance from home and the
infrequency of his home-visit weekends means that he will have to wait,
perhaps until next summer, to serve the Latin Mass. Peter greatly anticipates serving at the
Ordinary Form (English Mass) at our home town parish during his home-visit
weekends, as his opportunities to serve at the seminary are somewhat
scarce. Joseph, too, remains active as an altar server in our home town parish, hopeful that someday the cassock and surplice will be welcomed back.<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>In what can only be explained as "God's
perfect timing,</b>" or better yet, <i>Divine Providence</i>, on this very same Gaudete Sunday, Peter
served his first Mass in a cassock and surplice, assisting at dawn in the seminary chapel. The Extraordinary Form (or Traditional Latin Mass) has not
returned to Westminster Abbey, BC, but the vestments worn by the altar boys there
are still the traditional (masculine) cassock and surplice. The extremely reverent, chanted Masses at Westminster Abbey follow the prescribed rubrics beautifully and solemnly, at a measured monastic pace which allows for prayerful contemplation throughout. An extraordinary ordinary, so to speak. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWOKigyxpLcgtt-BV_ZE0WK24ZTYCCdWOKOmDsPbtQoPDwRZPNxlEmi9H9PyFoK0bnbMJNMrv62BubMlzbfi2j1AEHeurAq6wL_7qsFPla0oxcnva6pjUxlUQAOLmg7eY3tpQMPH4Mec/s1600/DSC_0208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWOKigyxpLcgtt-BV_ZE0WK24ZTYCCdWOKOmDsPbtQoPDwRZPNxlEmi9H9PyFoK0bnbMJNMrv62BubMlzbfi2j1AEHeurAq6wL_7qsFPla0oxcnva6pjUxlUQAOLmg7eY3tpQMPH4Mec/s640/DSC_0208.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Jonah and Joseph vested in cassocks for the first time.</i></td></tr>
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<b>How blessed we are to have a wide range</b> of reverent and authentic Catholic Masses to attend daily; from our small <a href="http://www.sacredheartbellingham.org/OP5.shtml">local parish</a> in Bellingham, to our <a href="http://www.northamericanmartyrs.org/">FSSP Latin Mass parish</a> in Seattle, to our son's <a href="http://www.westminsterabbey.ca/">Benedictine community</a> in BC; we are part of an awesome and truly Universal Church.BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-57194167267470155012013-12-13T09:00:00.001-08:002013-12-13T09:00:56.849-08:00Christmas Tree Hunt {U-Cut}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBh96gRFCx702uAvpxho-29IDOOtNPKgMMWaeqnUeCKO2xOiHKa3OMMak9kjgpfwZ0FgooKpdHhZMy3SNU1nDw9pZk3gTI-lbrhK_Op7hMGhjb9G6NpZMWQKYYAuhMfeHSnBQkMt0RYg/s1600/IMG_20131207_134900_065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBh96gRFCx702uAvpxho-29IDOOtNPKgMMWaeqnUeCKO2xOiHKa3OMMak9kjgpfwZ0FgooKpdHhZMy3SNU1nDw9pZk3gTI-lbrhK_Op7hMGhjb9G6NpZMWQKYYAuhMfeHSnBQkMt0RYg/s640/IMG_20131207_134900_065.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Noon Road U-Cut Tree farm owner shows us the tree variety map.</i></td></tr>
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<b>We veered off the <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2011/12/tree-hunting-chop-chop-chop.html">tried and true Christmas tree route</a> this year</b>, exploring a new U-cut tree farm at the suggestion of a friend. On the coldest day of the year ~ perhaps the coldest day in human history ~ we braved the great outdoors amidst the bitter winds of North Whatcom County. Leaving our little foster daughter with Grandma Billie due to the severity of the weather, we made a threesome: Tim, Joseph and me. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1q3a7D8ELpnDDMNYf_hrJhVzILT4hdP6Ne_VFvmMlDgXWNwlQrgglcMt-5y1nlq9SQrMYW3kdKrWK4CpFdmyeUOgIRSqPkSRsz1V3114Vg-mZm_Djj0dt8NwgfHDoX_Lw5bwFKuMzW8s/s1600/IMG_20131207_142342_450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1q3a7D8ELpnDDMNYf_hrJhVzILT4hdP6Ne_VFvmMlDgXWNwlQrgglcMt-5y1nlq9SQrMYW3kdKrWK4CpFdmyeUOgIRSqPkSRsz1V3114Vg-mZm_Djj0dt8NwgfHDoX_Lw5bwFKuMzW8s/s640/IMG_20131207_142342_450.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Follow the rules and no one gets hurt.</i></td></tr>
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<b>Being the smallest tree contingent in recent family history</b>, we didn't have to negotiate as many opinions on which tree took top honors and earned a ride home to be lit and decorated in anticipation of the big celebration of our Savior's birth. Regardless, the selection process did drag on for what seemed like hours. The tremendous freeze began to paralyze our faces and our fingers, making the discussions of our tree selection brief and to the point.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8p90JBEf4sJ6kyIkxmqUHLTQj19vdFLvfzRjEGMyctK8hFcQ6F75faw_rFVuYbcdXPmzgQi4n1fCYHdun8BsS6CFj3l5qC29v-sS-YVDoBVLCDTAUbaMHy5vLSn_wwdTlHee0PHVsxJE/s1600/IMG_20131207_135303_440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8p90JBEf4sJ6kyIkxmqUHLTQj19vdFLvfzRjEGMyctK8hFcQ6F75faw_rFVuYbcdXPmzgQi4n1fCYHdun8BsS6CFj3l5qC29v-sS-YVDoBVLCDTAUbaMHy5vLSn_wwdTlHee0PHVsxJE/s640/IMG_20131207_135303_440.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Taking a moment to refer to the tree varieties map, Joseph and Tim plot out our route through the tree farm.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYQm-A-zafxHqcd18i9vQG_5_rfIH-TqMtxNoWbDwbs_jzAV7XvPdPz2FoudAdCSIuJFsNuBJi41wkprC137-FcykYKx5NhxcpIfVis6FHe_C_7MDZnSly0yCecrTYkCBAhnsMM4BoZw/s1600/IMG_20131207_135832_033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYQm-A-zafxHqcd18i9vQG_5_rfIH-TqMtxNoWbDwbs_jzAV7XvPdPz2FoudAdCSIuJFsNuBJi41wkprC137-FcykYKx5NhxcpIfVis6FHe_C_7MDZnSly0yCecrTYkCBAhnsMM4BoZw/s640/IMG_20131207_135832_033.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The old amidst the new</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYLBAIq398E73e7paRCTvvcn5tOMhQCjNdP56L7PDS_Vijn6jJgKsqVCdU52in2eLTN4_5BzSmSvqrwsi1TylGLeZW3wjOqBezsvVlGnebvYQVYE9boyGQwdEsmyKKrnoTSPAI7yT8WoE/s1600/IMG_20131207_135927_762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYLBAIq398E73e7paRCTvvcn5tOMhQCjNdP56L7PDS_Vijn6jJgKsqVCdU52in2eLTN4_5BzSmSvqrwsi1TylGLeZW3wjOqBezsvVlGnebvYQVYE9boyGQwdEsmyKKrnoTSPAI7yT8WoE/s640/IMG_20131207_135927_762.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tim stomps through the lane, looking for the ideal tree to take home</i>.</td></tr>
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<b>When the time came to chop</b>, or rather <i>saw </i>down our tree, we were consoled by the fact that we would soon be in a warm car heading toward our warm home. However, as we loaded the tree into our van, we discovered that its length would necessitate driving with the back door tied down, rather than shut properly. A relatively small price to pay, both for the tree itself (compared to years past), and for the short open-air ride home, our Noble Fir soon graced the living room ready for illumination.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtiQJobQgasvSTkwpFYvEwlp7pLK-Ib_IvLuWuePr6PWlC1LZ75uxPy-IDIszW3zS0hDFaHwY9tH3TXk52_PGY0NXqG9YmmaQyWYoKvB3U1Rx4e-TKjmB2g2TtZsC9y-Ygd0oVTDbuAgE/s1600/IMG_20131207_141757_259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtiQJobQgasvSTkwpFYvEwlp7pLK-Ib_IvLuWuePr6PWlC1LZ75uxPy-IDIszW3zS0hDFaHwY9tH3TXk52_PGY0NXqG9YmmaQyWYoKvB3U1Rx4e-TKjmB2g2TtZsC9y-Ygd0oVTDbuAgE/s640/IMG_20131207_141757_259.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph begins the sawing chore, through a frozen trunk.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7F9mQTwZwVSuqoYuFlGgZ0uk3niupiHIolKy74Jf6sfGu3w03v4CYytK0txmLCjTZ-SnOIt5xhB3gUZNJjz03AvLIpoxCz5N2p3a_KazZN14gaVq2ZZF-e4LreBtc4dyY0rMDIhArSiU/s1600/IMG_20131207_142049_734.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7F9mQTwZwVSuqoYuFlGgZ0uk3niupiHIolKy74Jf6sfGu3w03v4CYytK0txmLCjTZ-SnOIt5xhB3gUZNJjz03AvLIpoxCz5N2p3a_KazZN14gaVq2ZZF-e4LreBtc4dyY0rMDIhArSiU/s640/IMG_20131207_142049_734.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our tree-cycle</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_BZsLzH-x_uspkyBMF-4sg-MfVCu8SMkao7XbKF8hSZDgxEoz1W7THBwFG7z0bNnSKEpwYqpUG6Vi5g5C3V6ZtV4eY-Wqt1tu2aWrFgBGjEPZyNDJqfe1b53mmd462piwzgq2VOTT_8/s1600/IMG_20131207_142107_201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_BZsLzH-x_uspkyBMF-4sg-MfVCu8SMkao7XbKF8hSZDgxEoz1W7THBwFG7z0bNnSKEpwYqpUG6Vi5g5C3V6ZtV4eY-Wqt1tu2aWrFgBGjEPZyNDJqfe1b53mmd462piwzgq2VOTT_8/s640/IMG_20131207_142107_201.jpg" width="640" /></a></td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Loaded up and ready to roll</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQT7uhHUOSzkfjTcKiw0f2OLPvG8DimTQRNkD8B9gug1CVkdJCx973YlDLKaKWLQci8wxw6HtxL00VUblCjMbYZrHxoUvgprhwZLkMRTIhJtNmPd4B2IJZEkIw5QGGwWvb4Scg5n3xCdg/s1600/IMG_20131213_084715_363.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQT7uhHUOSzkfjTcKiw0f2OLPvG8DimTQRNkD8B9gug1CVkdJCx973YlDLKaKWLQci8wxw6HtxL00VUblCjMbYZrHxoUvgprhwZLkMRTIhJtNmPd4B2IJZEkIw5QGGwWvb4Scg5n3xCdg/s640/IMG_20131213_084715_363.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lit and ready for ornamentation</i></td></tr>
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BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-34551634970077336622013-12-10T12:20:00.000-08:002013-12-13T09:07:00.846-08:00Death Bells Toll {Westminster Abbey, BC}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iYRQIGteBF7OxBZPXdwksIKXm7gljPmHjTnOq2s3t-rDP7eqKlKoC0s2BOsKE0K7oOq0Bz9bl4DEfldcFAFf_dMrY5RbTNcvKStUqI05YAH5W5XIQiauSa9_ofIoXXhQy6tVpPZJU8I/s1600/DSC_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5iYRQIGteBF7OxBZPXdwksIKXm7gljPmHjTnOq2s3t-rDP7eqKlKoC0s2BOsKE0K7oOq0Bz9bl4DEfldcFAFf_dMrY5RbTNcvKStUqI05YAH5W5XIQiauSa9_ofIoXXhQy6tVpPZJU8I/s640/DSC_0019.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Following the Mass of Christian Burial, Fr. Fulton's body is solemnly processed to his grave in the abbey cemetery.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>At first Peter didn't understand why the abbey's solemn bell</b> sounded repeatedly at an uncommon hour on a recent Sunday afternoon. Soon a priest passed by announcing that Father Michael had died, and asking the high school boys to pray for the repose of his soul. As the death bells continued to sound, the monastic community began mourning the loss of their departed brother and praying for his swift passing to his heavenly reward.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtEX5k6dR5qz7fJPRsZAqM6dzYOfkW7U9dKJ85_kIgqe0N7YRXcpvV3ZA7mSKQHcJ_IGZDgiJWD8arpMw_YPzIjAUtzxaOdJrM6YD0w227Fa2ynqNAkiqvdhECs03dWb8-zD-dAA2Z1o/s1600/DSC_0023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmtEX5k6dR5qz7fJPRsZAqM6dzYOfkW7U9dKJ85_kIgqe0N7YRXcpvV3ZA7mSKQHcJ_IGZDgiJWD8arpMw_YPzIjAUtzxaOdJrM6YD0w227Fa2ynqNAkiqvdhECs03dWb8-zD-dAA2Z1o/s640/DSC_0023.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lowered into the ground by brother monks and Benedictine postulants, Father Michael is laid to rest following graveside committal prayers on a bitter cold December morning.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Today <a href="http://www.telegram.com/article/20131127/NEWS/311279832/0/FRONTPAGE">fewer and fewer Catholic families are opting to include a funeral Mass</a> </b>(or wake or burial) for their deceased Catholic relatives. Many of the <b><a href="http://www.catholicworldreport.com/Item/2557/catholic_funerals_and_the_true_perspective_of_faith.aspx#.UqdomOKQPD0">funeral Masses that are being said</a></b> for our deceased are tainted with abuses, including proclamations that the decedent is 'already in heaven.' This common and unfortunate occurrence at modern Catholic funerals all but deletes the possibility that the soul may be <i>saved yet suffering</i> in purgatory, relying on our prayers to aid their passage to heaven. <br />
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<b>Father Michael's funeral at Westminster Abbey followed an authentic Catholic approach</b> to burying the dead with the full Rite of Christian Burial: a wake (overnight prayer vigil with the body in the Church), a funeral Mass (celebrating the life of Father Michael within the context of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus), and the graveside committal (prayers of committal and final commendation). A profound witness for the high school boys, major seminarians, the family and friends of Father Michael and the Westminster Abbey community, this funeral was a reverent, solemn and joyful liturgy; authentic Catholicism in action.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEUoiGbnBENt_ESkz7F-mlFAGFw7Xw5mawgMTN5Fven0dCdv7CQtQuBACWG7sXwYhCrPNWZp4OzGUR89I28DstD9GQdiDP1Z9dlJ0vs1oLcnr_kyxszCTHRmnfVvAf44XgCSCC6Sxqqc/s1600/DSC_0029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSEUoiGbnBENt_ESkz7F-mlFAGFw7Xw5mawgMTN5Fven0dCdv7CQtQuBACWG7sXwYhCrPNWZp4OzGUR89I28DstD9GQdiDP1Z9dlJ0vs1oLcnr_kyxszCTHRmnfVvAf44XgCSCC6Sxqqc/s640/DSC_0029.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">High school seminarians participate in the burial rite of Father Michael Fulton, OSB+ (b. 1926- d. 2013)</td></tr>
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<b>Newly acquired official documents</b> made it possible for me to travel to and from the funeral in Canada with our one-month-old foster daughter, <i>Angelina</i>. Her first funeral, <i>Angelina</i> stayed toasty warm in a fuzzy suit from Owen's family, a handmade hat from Elle, a toasty blanket by Christine, and brought smiles to many faces on this solemn occasion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQLt5GHR0QRiJp24DIyHXXNxdA_NBrT9LAhwrFbA0U9igqvxoKiH8fO9SkHR0nJiNVi0tR-UYC0pb51yeT7BtwGK-mPbDLqbCJP6hq-EwGnFYjnyF-o7tJFoj0pr2unTofK0agORsPzE/s1600/DSC_0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQLt5GHR0QRiJp24DIyHXXNxdA_NBrT9LAhwrFbA0U9igqvxoKiH8fO9SkHR0nJiNVi0tR-UYC0pb51yeT7BtwGK-mPbDLqbCJP6hq-EwGnFYjnyF-o7tJFoj0pr2unTofK0agORsPzE/s640/DSC_0026.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Father Peter meets 'Angelina'</i></td></tr>
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<b>A keepsake from Father Michael's funeral</b> included the story of his path from family life to and through his many years as a Benedictine Priest, and also gave a glimpse into his holy death:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>On Friday, November 22, he suffered a mild heart attack. He recovered somewhat in hospital, but on Sunday, November 24, he took a sudden turn for the worse. When he was anointed, it was the passage of the good thief from the feast of Christ the King that was read to him: "Today you will be with me in paradise." With characteristic obedience he waited until Father Abbott arrived, acknowledged his presence and then passed to the Lord as the prayers of commendation were being completed.</i> </blockquote>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHLpZNYVsn4I-_PMxDNwneDSV_k6HO_krMGk2C4WPQWM-L7ReY49miq9UYz0OH77kbshgWe170dAg21b1VyA0CyU5VlJ2z2rfKFZuLv3toolSWRTLXLwPKzHY32Yrpw9CiAkUQ8BOUyM/s1600/DSC_0036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHLpZNYVsn4I-_PMxDNwneDSV_k6HO_krMGk2C4WPQWM-L7ReY49miq9UYz0OH77kbshgWe170dAg21b1VyA0CyU5VlJ2z2rfKFZuLv3toolSWRTLXLwPKzHY32Yrpw9CiAkUQ8BOUyM/s640/DSC_0036.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter shares his foster sister with his Benedictine teachers and the monastic community.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>As they had so lovingly cared for him and prayerfully aided him throughout his life</b>, the Benedictines of Westminster Abbey, BC, showed tremendous charity for Father Michael in his death.<br />
<br />
<i>Dear Lord,</i><br />
<i>Let perpetual light shine upon him, </i><br />
<i>and may the soul of Father Micael Fulton, OSB, </i><br />
<i>through Your mercy, Lord, rest in peace.</i><br />
<i>Amen.</i>BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-74077272855239509102013-12-02T12:12:00.001-08:002013-12-02T12:12:18.336-08:00Advent Displays {Interior + Exterior}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLg8E8_kvwT_CuUPGKtk5g5WoeBojc_HRB0EpicQeYge2kLA4m1EgaGoMJcwHe00cH7uE3wKgPamy2bDDwMKiYBLDP6GPxFy5xbmPe4Qef3z2LRJdTd8JGOcdJv2Fuf2Op7TmRBraIbo/s1600/DSCN6290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLg8E8_kvwT_CuUPGKtk5g5WoeBojc_HRB0EpicQeYge2kLA4m1EgaGoMJcwHe00cH7uE3wKgPamy2bDDwMKiYBLDP6GPxFy5xbmPe4Qef3z2LRJdTd8JGOcdJv2Fuf2Op7TmRBraIbo/s640/DSCN6290.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<b>Preparing a place in our main living room for a Christmas tree</b> will be slightly
more complicated this year due to my annual (but slightly belated) soap
making chaos taking up half the room. The crafty clutter, though hard on
the eyes, is easy on the nose ~ the scents of the essential oils
beautifying the air. Soon the freshly minted bars will be mature enough for their relocation to obscure curing areas in the home, but for now they stand in opposition to any urgent decorating or tree importing schemes.<br />
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<b>On a short furlough from high school seminary</b> for a sumptuous Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma Billie's, Peter stayed up well past his normal bedtime to hand the outdoor lights with Joseph. Their decorative enthusiasm, dampened slightly by the parental regulation not to climb upon the high roof in the rain after dark, netted many strings of lights strung, powered and illuminated before the official end of Thanksgiving and Peter's return to school.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>As important as the external preparations for Christmas seem</b>, the internal preparations are much more urgent. Advent, offered for our eternal benefit as a season of penitence, or repentance, should be a time to clear the ground a bit, making the soil of our souls more fertile for the Lord's coming. Along those lines, I stumbled upon a tremendous series of sermons for Advent Recollection at the <a href="http://www.audiosancto.org/">Audio Sancto Sermon Series</a>. I highly recommend making time to listen to the three sermons on <a href="http://www.audiosancto.org/sermon/20111217-Advent-Recollection-Part-1-Silence.html">silence</a>, <a href="http://www.audiosancto.org/sermon/20111217-Advent-Recollection-Part-2-Prayer.html">prayer</a>, and the <a href="http://www.audiosancto.org/sermon/20111217-Advent-Recollection-Part-3-Spiritual-Life.html">spiritual life</a>. Amidst your bustling to-do lists and business of the season, give yourself the gift of time to prayerfully fortify your soul for the coming of our Savior.<br />
<br />
<i><b>Jesus is coming! Will we be ready?</b></i>BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-79841033051693246392013-11-28T09:04:00.002-08:002013-12-02T10:44:48.701-08:00Giving Thanks {Giver + Receiver}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGwyBAdmCZAcdZOmlfKifb6WkzHd8IctGOkWBrvTcXrTNMiRtwJ5o2iDpNtP9JejbfQaP6xpq8EpXDER_jdfG4SJ33w-tLMjZsoHJ2gMmXIHlFZTuywNXlWDqu3CUJf1IZ1TZGaP-2tQ/s1600/IMG_20131127_103442_399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVGwyBAdmCZAcdZOmlfKifb6WkzHd8IctGOkWBrvTcXrTNMiRtwJ5o2iDpNtP9JejbfQaP6xpq8EpXDER_jdfG4SJ33w-tLMjZsoHJ2gMmXIHlFZTuywNXlWDqu3CUJf1IZ1TZGaP-2tQ/s640/IMG_20131127_103442_399.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><b>Someone recently quipped that Thanksgiving was 'all about abundance'</b> and cited the <i>number of pies Bridget bakes for the feast</i> as exhibit A for the abundance argument. Truth be told, I bake quite a few pies for this celebration. I love pie. My mom always baked pies for my birthday cakes, but I digress.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><b>The heart of our celebration today</b> centers on 'giving' thanks...<i>to Someone</i>. Getting stuffed on seasonal delicacies and saturated with televised sporting entertainment may be the hallmarks of the day in many American families, but the true meaning still remains: We give Thanks to God for His abundant blessings.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white;"><i>Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving, and pay your vows to the Most
High. Call upon me in the day of trouble. I will deliver you, and you
shall glorify Me . . . Mark then you who forget God, lest I rend and
there be none to deliver. He who brings thanksgiving as his sacrifice
honors me. To him who orders his way aright, I will show the salvation
of God.</i> ~Psalm 50:14-15, 22-23</span></blockquote>
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<span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><b>What better place to thank God</b> than in His holy house, the Church? The word <a href="http://catholicism.about.com/od/thesacraments/g/Eucharist.htm">Eucharist means thanksgiving</a>, and by God's grace our family will begin this secular holiday within God's house, praising Him and receiving Him in holy Eucharist. The rest of the holiday is, as they say, gravy.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span style="background-color: white;">The kingdom of God is not a matter of eating or drinking, but of
justice, peace, and the joy that is given by the Holy Spirit. Whoever
serves Christ in this way pleases God and wins the esteem of men. Let
us, then, make it our aim to work for peace and to strengthen one
another.</span></i><span style="background-color: white;"> ~Romans 14:17-19</span></blockquote>
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<b> </b><br />
<b>I give my humble thanks to God:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>For the gift of life and faith given to me by my parents in cooperation with our Lord who gave His life to save me from my sins</li>
<li>For the gift of eternal life offered through my baptism and renewed through frequent sacraments, especially Holy Communion and confession; for the Holy Catholic Church</li>
<li>For the gift of our marriage, and my husband's infant baptism on the same day as my own</li>
<li>For our children Zachary, Joseph, and Peter; for our other pregnancies and miscarriages</li>
<li>For our parents, grandparents, siblings, families, Godparents, priests, and the Church Triumphant ~ the saints in heaven</li>
<li>For our Godchildren, foster children, spiritual children and their families</li>
<li>For our friends, prayer warriors, benefactors, students, teachers, readers, employees, contacts, Scouting and home schooling families, </li>
<li>For the Fraternal Society of Saint Peter (FSSP), Benedictines, Carmelites, Passionists, Dominicans, for our Seattle Archdiocese, and our parishes</li>
<li>For our health, home and daily sustenance </li>
<li>For our freedom and for those who defend true freedom and the right to life for every human being</li>
<li>For Truth </li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>I offer thanksgiving to Almighty God</b> for the many and varied resources so readily available to build up my faith and deepen my knowledge of the Truth:<br />
<br />
The Holy Bible<br />
Divine Intimacy<br />
<a href="http://divineoffice.org/">Divine Office </a><br />
<a href="http://www.churchmilitant.tv/talks/">Church Militant TV</a><br />
<a href="http://wdtprs.com/blog/">Father Z's blog </a><br />
<a href="http://www.audiosancto.org/">Audio Sancto Sermon Series</a> <br />
<a href="http://www.vatican.va/phome_en.htm">The Holy See </a><br />
<a href="http://www.markmallett.com/blog/category/daily-journal/">Spiritual Food for Thought</a><br />
<a href="http://fredbroom.podomatic.com/">Father Broom's podcasts</a><br />
<a href="http://jnorth21.podomatic.com/">Father Jim Northrop's podcasts </a><br />
<a href="http://www.starofthesea.net/index.php/parish-media/audio/homilies">Father Lappe's homilies</a><br />
<a href="http://on-this-rock.blogspot.com/">Father Hollowell's blog</a><br />
<a href="http://thesestonewalls.com/">Father MacRae's blog </a><br />
<a href="http://theradicallife.org/">The Radical Life</a><br />
Divine Mercy: Saint Faustina's Diary <br />
<br />
<b>And lest I forget, there is one last thing</b> to be especially thankful for on this day:<br />
Pies!<br />
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BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-33500188588860491522013-11-25T16:20:00.000-08:002013-11-25T16:20:21.421-08:00Eagle Scout Board of Review {Joseph Passed}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjP3Ajg1mkIaia4gBPodkz9RO4447ZtGcRdCzWExqUwp__WGEERxHawBTuVITmYbBMUCqNM_eWDol4CDhiMiKuu0wASe8PheZwHTK-beUrgzD7Tx1xJwpgbWPpsfWaZm45aqwfyHNrxk/s1600/DSC_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLjP3Ajg1mkIaia4gBPodkz9RO4447ZtGcRdCzWExqUwp__WGEERxHawBTuVITmYbBMUCqNM_eWDol4CDhiMiKuu0wASe8PheZwHTK-beUrgzD7Tx1xJwpgbWPpsfWaZm45aqwfyHNrxk/s640/DSC_0003.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Troop mates Caleb and Joseph await their Eagle Scout Boards of Review.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>On one hand, Joseph's formal interview for Eagle Scout Rank</b> resembled a
'rubber stamp' experience for a job well done and completed exactly according to
the prescribed formula. <br />
<br />
<b>On the other hand,</b> Joseph's Eagle Scout Board of Review included
escalating levels of anxiety and a drawn out suspense-filled wait in the hallway after the lengthy interview with <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2011/06/scoutmaster-conference-failed.html">an unfortunate precedence</a> nagging his memory, "The last time I had to wait this long for an answer, it was '<i>No</i>.'"<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxA7pKkqJsGbhLF3zLWxAo4nFFFV-ui6u_2kbtJoUWwGJn2-yUeMtP1Loftf1nOHGfyl_Rlfh305U8QdYR82ud83-dRYBDErER5hcdNWFJBCEGIDCWW4OpkT1CSeRh3Oa87hZwT5RBNPE/s1600/DSC_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxA7pKkqJsGbhLF3zLWxAo4nFFFV-ui6u_2kbtJoUWwGJn2-yUeMtP1Loftf1nOHGfyl_Rlfh305U8QdYR82ud83-dRYBDErER5hcdNWFJBCEGIDCWW4OpkT1CSeRh3Oa87hZwT5RBNPE/s640/DSC_0004.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Whatcom District's Eagle Coordinator gives board of review and public speaking pointers.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Joseph's Scouting career includes many highlights</b>, including serving as <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/06/senior-patrol-leader.html">Senior Patrol Leader</a> as well as two-time patrol leader of his Burning Bullfrog Patrol. Jettisoning his patrol to earn the prestigious National Honor Patrol (twice), Joseph's leadership and his patrol's eagerness to achieve set the bar high for Troop 3's other patrols. Improved communication skills and self confidence blossomed from his experience as troop scribe and chaplain's aid, and various other positions of leadership along the way. Strong bonds of friendship and healthy doses of competitive sports and group games inspired Joseph to keep suiting up and showing up throughout his years in the troop.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjnuwmeIkPKpXSv6JZfHx28dTZyfR-iAAVz0EP5hJAtsu19NjW7iy2cogBFs3rH-NOl3Zm0Qyb_VuyACAzWoZxOP3HusIqleeyMQRSrbP35pgsrgdHbWpiLpNZmUrtP8z3w297cDtGHo/s1600/DSC_0016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjnuwmeIkPKpXSv6JZfHx28dTZyfR-iAAVz0EP5hJAtsu19NjW7iy2cogBFs3rH-NOl3Zm0Qyb_VuyACAzWoZxOP3HusIqleeyMQRSrbP35pgsrgdHbWpiLpNZmUrtP8z3w297cDtGHo/s640/DSC_0016.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The community Eagle board panel passed Joseph; Mrs. Quinn was his troop witness, and Tim the proud papa.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Paddling the <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2011/09/bowron-lakes-canoe-circuit-11-day-1.html">Bowron Lakes Canoe Circuit</a> (twice)</b> and hiking the 50 mile North Cascades trek <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/08/cross-2-ross-13-day-1-hannegan-pass-to.html">Cross to Ross</a>, along with many other Scouting adventures, Joseph certainly advanced in his leadership and survival skills in the great outdoors as well as the more mundane indoors. Advancing in character, faithfully living the Scout Oath and Law, and maturing into a fine young man along the trails and trials, Joseph earned the highest rank in Boy Scouts. When the official application clears the national level, it will be official and Joseph will be awarded the Rank of Eagle Scout.<br />
<br />
<b>Congratulations, Joseph!</b><br />
<b>Congratulations, Caleb!</b>BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-4892879431301351922013-11-12T19:10:00.001-08:002013-11-12T19:10:52.393-08:00Home Weekend with a Twist<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixQSYFcodQi5D7yWrPexwEOAEgnfBhmqble5VJ8C4PTCUrioBCP0WnFbxnCpZMUKFohKtaCC0Ac4OdQlxhbZxBzrymccC9-NY9P_afIpsgi8O6e4yg9ZtLA0oshljPhWASev0Es1oDozw/s1600/DSCN6260.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixQSYFcodQi5D7yWrPexwEOAEgnfBhmqble5VJ8C4PTCUrioBCP0WnFbxnCpZMUKFohKtaCC0Ac4OdQlxhbZxBzrymccC9-NY9P_afIpsgi8O6e4yg9ZtLA0oshljPhWASev0Es1oDozw/s640/DSCN6260.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter and Joseph prepare for a ride on Galbraith.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Mountain biking, duck hunting, football viewing, and a pizza dinner</b> were all part of the predictable plans for Peter on his second home weekend this fall. But the big (tiny) surprise rested in his arms as he welcomed a new foster sister,<i> Angelina</i>. Peter woke up early with lots of love to share and helped feed and bathe our little visitor at the crack of dawn. Of course early rising is part of Peter's normal routine at high school seminary, but nevertheless, his willingness to jump right in was heartwarming. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMRLkwEcSKbyYY6CdyZtN0dU7zpnQjLz3e8m9-_VtsISHe0lfRZU16035mIgkz5O7jFoXpCbyHb4rWWy5Y1h5JPtjpoXMhMkpm7ousrtRATfwgWxb03R1Tl4CKyrJ4G9B1yMTA3aRK1V8/s1600/DSC_0088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMRLkwEcSKbyYY6CdyZtN0dU7zpnQjLz3e8m9-_VtsISHe0lfRZU16035mIgkz5O7jFoXpCbyHb4rWWy5Y1h5JPtjpoXMhMkpm7ousrtRATfwgWxb03R1Tl4CKyrJ4G9B1yMTA3aRK1V8/s640/DSC_0088.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>'Angelina' rests in Peter's arms</i> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Joseph's role as the primary teen assistant around the house is relaxed</b> on Peter's home weekends, so not only does he anxiously await opportunities for fun with his little brother once a month, but also gladly shares the chores and duties. Joseph, true to his easy going nature, joined Peter for a chanted evening prayer (praying the Psalms) one night, doing his best to follow the unfamiliar routine reverently.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvHm4G5J1W5rLW8WWNaNDeaDlN1qkci3gYreBL51nRHHfC8WpPi9GusL5fzoX0UnpJivIRPMQfcr-RpcL4UuV0xRUgp9S44H-SWCfXW1VzKx_7zPBcOH5P9Gto9nRWXpHbxKa7PMyMxM/s1600/DSCN6268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguvHm4G5J1W5rLW8WWNaNDeaDlN1qkci3gYreBL51nRHHfC8WpPi9GusL5fzoX0UnpJivIRPMQfcr-RpcL4UuV0xRUgp9S44H-SWCfXW1VzKx_7zPBcOH5P9Gto9nRWXpHbxKa7PMyMxM/s640/DSCN6268.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter feeds 'Angelina' breakfast</i>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>We celebrated another first for Peter</b> as he moved up the ranks of altar servers at our local parish, accepting Father Altenhofen's invitation to serve as acolyte. Just as Zachary mentored Joseph a few years ago, Joseph trained Peter before vesting, and stood nearby in the role of cross bearer ready to assist if any situations arose. Peter handled his new liturgical role with poise and reverence, and took great care to perform his duties properly and not to draw attention to himself.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmQNGSCQQMWJAdoD_NXOxVbbySUjJjIQZBsuy8rAC7Y2X16JjytTieynek5EIMmkb-gaGsAW0pG131nj98jDwd7pD7GwEzvIHTLk4JQIhs5en4vBy3zvh1eynfB7ubOueavuF_T3m96ls/s1600/DSC_0042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmQNGSCQQMWJAdoD_NXOxVbbySUjJjIQZBsuy8rAC7Y2X16JjytTieynek5EIMmkb-gaGsAW0pG131nj98jDwd7pD7GwEzvIHTLk4JQIhs5en4vBy3zvh1eynfB7ubOueavuF_T3m96ls/s640/DSC_0042.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter serves as acolyte at Sunday Mass, behind the scenes at E's baptism</i>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7LvVdToqiSYrKmEn-jRkUO3dmLeHYBG32TrTLH5uqfdmOG5l1qGdFazrNpcxqGvMdHz-mKBpS4cF5x_aU8zTunETCJBbG1zMmGYJ3NCSFbYE7gAEhyphenhyphennNpz3S7eOBQ0VHbanxulD1h6g/s1600/DSC_0069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7LvVdToqiSYrKmEn-jRkUO3dmLeHYBG32TrTLH5uqfdmOG5l1qGdFazrNpcxqGvMdHz-mKBpS4cF5x_aU8zTunETCJBbG1zMmGYJ3NCSFbYE7gAEhyphenhyphennNpz3S7eOBQ0VHbanxulD1h6g/s640/DSC_0069.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter serves first Mass as acolyte, assisting Father Joseph at the altar</i> <i>as Joseph looks on from the cross bearer seat</i>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Returning to school Monday evening with a bag of clean laundry and a pile of books,</b> Peter greeted his schoolmates and spent a few minutes in the game room before the bells rang for evening prayer. As many of the major (college) seminarians had not yet returned from home weekend, several of the high school students, Peter included, were able to pray vespers from within the Benedictine's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Choir_%28architecture%29">choir</a>. Joining the community's Liturgy of the Hours in the abbey church and feasting on home made piroshky (freshly prepared by the high school boys under Father Peter's tutelage) rounded out my monastery drop-off experience quite nicely. Peter's home weekends really are a blessing for all of us.BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-58098536692299961142013-11-10T15:44:00.001-08:002013-11-10T15:52:41.337-08:00Working the Night Shift {Fostering a Newborn}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoa0tAoWc0uRm07FwGn-1i8X-fdHC1tKA8do2PugH2sRbMd-EV6GaDhPotwNYv7Oum8zUvv2_mLK_Nl6IXRCjGLnl5fs4zGknrEkg4Zn9sYc6SYetQ_w3BFmyQwnTsYhrIzeqo8tqu9s/s1600/DSCN6226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoa0tAoWc0uRm07FwGn-1i8X-fdHC1tKA8do2PugH2sRbMd-EV6GaDhPotwNYv7Oum8zUvv2_mLK_Nl6IXRCjGLnl5fs4zGknrEkg4Zn9sYc6SYetQ_w3BFmyQwnTsYhrIzeqo8tqu9s/s640/DSCN6226.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>After Mass on the Feast of Saint Charles Borromeo,</b> we answered a call to take in a newborn whose parents cannot yet take care of her. Due to a strange 'coincidence,' it seems like Saint Charles himself was involved in this new foster placement, but I'll save the 'communion of saints' story for another day. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2k-czAuY427Q9Bgdqou_QtXOXkgM6ZB0rT48rvcQ-VEhbyDOhihB1o_yw1mPXgfyX7_HNhpvxXpPCIO6ekCUOeqKQyN6xQI3BKE5zXLNufGbaNmmekO6As3lNfFY5QwfIu9MKJv6Kah0/s1600/IMG_20131106_164637_414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2k-czAuY427Q9Bgdqou_QtXOXkgM6ZB0rT48rvcQ-VEhbyDOhihB1o_yw1mPXgfyX7_HNhpvxXpPCIO6ekCUOeqKQyN6xQI3BKE5zXLNufGbaNmmekO6As3lNfFY5QwfIu9MKJv6Kah0/s640/IMG_20131106_164637_414.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>For privacy purposes,</b> we shall call her <b><i>Angelina</i></b> on the blog. To answer the most common question: <i>No, we don't know for how long she will be with us.</i> It could be one week, one month or longer. The fostering process involves much mystery and many moving parts. Our prayers (and hopefully yours) go out for little <i>Angelina</i> and for her family at this time of separation and the various trials and tribulations accompanying such an unsettling occurrence.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqN8d-6FC-km50l3hGbtsA-YMPng43QCEmdk71lfUiV9yqjpNPDYl70McD77xufs6T07vSm6Gr6901nNE0BW_b4AMgy0ympsOV3oN8z5fy4TItL377oN0_aFkDXCTULyP_iQmZafIgc50/s1600/DSCN6228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqN8d-6FC-km50l3hGbtsA-YMPng43QCEmdk71lfUiV9yqjpNPDYl70McD77xufs6T07vSm6Gr6901nNE0BW_b4AMgy0ympsOV3oN8z5fy4TItL377oN0_aFkDXCTULyP_iQmZafIgc50/s640/DSCN6228.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Within 24 hours of our new foster placement, our friends began showering gifts upon little Angelina.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Speaking of St. Charles... </b><br />
<b><a href="http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=212">St. Charles Borromeo</a>, St. Peter Canisius, St. Turibius of Mongrovejo and St. Robert Bellarmine </b>are the only four people mentioned by name at the beginning of the <a href="http://www.usccb.org/beliefs-and-teachings/what-we-believe/catechism/catechism-of-the-catholic-church/epub/">Catechism of the Catholic Church</a>; cited as responsible for the Council of Trent, which gave way to the modern day catechism. Have you ever looked at the Catechism of the Catholic Church? Inside, the teachings of the Church are clearly taught with Biblical citations throughout. <br />
<br />
<b>If your authority on what the Catholic Church teaches</b> includes lapsed and/or poorly catechized Catholics or anti Catholics, there's a good chance you'll be pleasantly surprised when you discover what the Church<i> actually teaches</i> and <i>why</i>.<br />
<br />
<b>Recently, someone shared an interesting fact</b> gleaned from a historical study of the reformation. Another asked in response, "I wonder if you will also <a href="http://www.catecheticsonline.com/Saints/index.php">study the counter-reformation</a>?" If studying one side of the great divorce of the Church makes sense, doesn't studying <i>both sides</i> of the huge break seem appropriate? The documents from the <a href="http://www.ewtn.com/library/councils/trent6.htm">Council of Trent</a> make for some interesting reading:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b></b><br />
<b><small>CHAPTER XII<br />
</small><span style="font-size: x-small;">RASH PRESUMPTION OF PREDESTINATION IS TO BE AVOIDED</span></b><br />
<b>
</b><br />
<i>No one, moreover, so long as he lives this mortal life, ought in regard to the
sacred mystery of divine predestination, so far presume as to state with absolute
certainty that he is among the number of the predestined,[74] as if it were true that the
one justified either cannot sin any more, or, if he does sin, that he ought to promise
himself an assured repentance.</i></blockquote>
<b>St. Charles Borromeo was a key player and brave leader in the counter reformation,</b> and quite an effective reformer within the Church. He's also a personal friend and a great and powerful intercessor, alive in heaven. My grade school and parish Church was named in his honor, and I consider him one of my finest teachers. Thank you, Saint Charles Borromeo; please pray for us!BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-11992655309378537572013-11-08T12:29:00.002-08:002013-11-10T10:09:05.524-08:00News from Notre Dame {Zachary's 2nd Year}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBz5Zajtk6PB8lSlOiYEPzI0tx970KnUEISLRrap8HW2K5e6gDP5kO-fkosSQvRZD7HwPrFJTzXePDyA0BZYfhaHLsrWdQNqPVvJy1QCnHuNRKKjeI4rxyRATkXW9RYzM2C591ybqCulk/s1600/ResizedImage951382969501701_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBz5Zajtk6PB8lSlOiYEPzI0tx970KnUEISLRrap8HW2K5e6gDP5kO-fkosSQvRZD7HwPrFJTzXePDyA0BZYfhaHLsrWdQNqPVvJy1QCnHuNRKKjeI4rxyRATkXW9RYzM2C591ybqCulk/s640/ResizedImage951382969501701_1.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Notre Dame; the Golden Dome</i></td></tr>
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<b>About this time last year, </b> my husband Tim arranged for a <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2012/10/surprise-sight-for-sore-eyes-zachary.html">surprise return home</a> for Zachary during Notre Dame's fall break. Although it would have been truly awesome to have a repeat performance this year, it wasn't in the cards, so Zac spent his break week on campus getting caught up on homework and sleep. His break from the normal university routine allowed for a few extra phone calls, which we enjoyed greatly. <br />
<br />
<b>Rival football fans,</b> Grandma Billie and Grandpa Cliff visited
Zachary at Notre Dame for the Oklahoma University game in October, and proudly sat in the
OU section with a crowd of supporters bussed in from Chicago for the big
event. Grandma's Sooners claimed victory, but Zachary's time with his
grandparents included many other special moments that were less rivalry
and more camaraderie. Taking a long tour of campus, attending daily
Mass together at the Basilica, and eating out off campus were a few of
the highlights. Grandpa's trusty camera bit the dust,
and Zachary tends toward photographic minimalism, so unfortunately there are no images to share from their time together at ND. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBrDG4891gPQhb_zazUxPRH-v_uo3MsdadNKWVTDXrAkW7Y-a6aaaBGGk69IkQJGxOB_SI0B9LrNh_Aiugn2WA9qI8PhkU90f8w3LkBmbwPCZo8Z-OaAHpLrClNzBhDlX8kyVN4tiX134/s1600/ResizedImage951382966319753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBrDG4891gPQhb_zazUxPRH-v_uo3MsdadNKWVTDXrAkW7Y-a6aaaBGGk69IkQJGxOB_SI0B9LrNh_Aiugn2WA9qI8PhkU90f8w3LkBmbwPCZo8Z-OaAHpLrClNzBhDlX8kyVN4tiX134/s640/ResizedImage951382966319753.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Autumn view from Zachary's dorm room in Knott Hall</i></td></tr>
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<b>This year, Zachary joined a few extra curricular clubs</b>, including the Notre Dame <a href="http://recsports.nd.edu/programs/club-sports/men-s-club-sports/men-s-boxing/">men's boxing team</a>. Early season training focuses on conditioning and sound quite intense; Zachary reports icing up to five different injuries so far. Training with punches begins soon; please consider this a prayer request. All for a good cause, the boxing club season culminates with the fundraising event "Bengal Bouts" which supports missionary work in Bangladesh. <br />
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<b>On the topic of sophomore year academics</b>, Zachary reports that his philosophy class "Paradoxes" is his favorite. Second year German studies continue, and Zac's renowned theology professor, <a href="http://www.news.va/en/news/ratzinger-prize-prize-2012-to-go-to-philosopher-re">Father Daley, S.J.</a>, is both teacher of "Conversions" class and a coach for the boxing club.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQO_8XUQa2F7R0F9you_66y2f47S9gIJ-Dwv54X11qU8IJM0x8hRkrPLm9ejQiOYS9ch-R7ggNdYdCvznr5yD5NB81KdA2W32IUhlYiyHVvFQn8dPAwxDMPAMjtuU3whYskSZyXPtb4k/s1600/ResizedImage_1383964556919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjQO_8XUQa2F7R0F9you_66y2f47S9gIJ-Dwv54X11qU8IJM0x8hRkrPLm9ejQiOYS9ch-R7ggNdYdCvznr5yD5NB81KdA2W32IUhlYiyHVvFQn8dPAwxDMPAMjtuU3whYskSZyXPtb4k/s640/ResizedImage_1383964556919.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Zac's view from the stands at a ND hockey game</i></td></tr>
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<b>In six short weeks,</b> our firstborn will return home for Christmas break and share a bit of wintery adventure and family time here in the Pacific Northwest. Six weeks...six short weeks!<br />
<br />BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-57386266450633747092013-11-06T15:59:00.001-08:002013-11-06T15:59:27.093-08:00Abbey Visit {High School Seminary Parents' Day}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5kOx8OdNcFL2FNC2kq9enXT9U_-RK5tvnZvM-0d5-xabdPkUu_gABajslFEslpht6mHeZmAdDy7vmOW-BruvC-HzeXED_eVXp1ayVe1-u0r_RVdYVS4Adbe_DtqNZ5Sr8fd8SFxlLVo/s1600/DSC_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5kOx8OdNcFL2FNC2kq9enXT9U_-RK5tvnZvM-0d5-xabdPkUu_gABajslFEslpht6mHeZmAdDy7vmOW-BruvC-HzeXED_eVXp1ayVe1-u0r_RVdYVS4Adbe_DtqNZ5Sr8fd8SFxlLVo/s640/DSC_0011.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter picks up the flute and joins the high school seminary orchestra.</i></td></tr>
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<b>Some things just feel right</b>, even though difficult, painful, or requiring great sacrifice. Peter's attending high school seminary this year as an 8th grader is one of those things. Our family and home school just isn't the same without Peter here, and the past few months adjusting to his absence have been both trying and rewarding.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Grandma Billie and Grandpa Cliff join Joseph, Peter and Father Peter, rector, after Sunday Mass.</i></td></tr>
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<b>Given that Peter comes home for a few days' stay each month</b>, and that his orthodontic appliances require the occasional visit home for business' sake, we enjoy his company fairly regularly despite the miles and international border that distance us. Peter uses a phone card and an old fashioned pay phone to call home every so often which offers the gift of instant communication that the one-week+ snail mail routine can't offer. The students do not have access to the internet, so all other modern forms of staying in touch are out.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter, tour guide at Westminster Abbey, BC</i></td></tr>
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<b>A few times each year,</b> the high school seminarian host a performance for parents and families showcasing their orchestra and elocution programs. Combined with the show, parents are able to visit with the monks who teach the seminarians and receive important feedback about their son(s)' grades, behavior and adjustment to community life at the monastery.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VKm-9OLpDC2NnpqMheIGHcs33yYeg0c77SwAQfFz3y40hKlm7QGWwTdWKhdOAOFgPHbCLVMK94ZhNzLN8mYsa9fzommoOUWUOMb9gx3HpqT30U6aGLOE-Hhr3g9Wn18IxeGo6esvAko/s1600/DSC_0046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VKm-9OLpDC2NnpqMheIGHcs33yYeg0c77SwAQfFz3y40hKlm7QGWwTdWKhdOAOFgPHbCLVMK94ZhNzLN8mYsa9fzommoOUWUOMb9gx3HpqT30U6aGLOE-Hhr3g9Wn18IxeGo6esvAko/s640/DSC_0046.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter performs on stage in an adaptation of A Midsummer Night's Dream.</i></td></tr>
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<b>An added bonus to any visit to the monastery</b> is the open invitation to join the community for chanted Liturgy of the Hours. Sounding bells from high above in the abbey's tower alert everyone when the time for prayer draws near. On our recent visit for Parents' Day festivities, Peter shared his prayer book with his Grandma Billie and Grandpa Cliff, who were visiting the abbey for the first time.<br />
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<b>Showing us around the beautiful campus</b> <b>on a break between Mass and midday prayer,</b> Peter shared his favorite viewpoint, hidden away behind the seminary. We also made a stop at the cemetery, to continue our All Souls Octave prayers for the holy souls in purgatory. The little cemetery saw many visitors that day on account of this special season of remembrance.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brothers reunited for the day</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Father Peter, harpist, shares his instrument with a seminarian's siblings on Parents' Day.</i></td></tr>
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BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-53838825926184901132013-11-05T12:32:00.004-08:002013-11-05T12:32:50.467-08:00Outgoing T3 Senior Patrol Leader {Joseph's Term Ends}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk4EPdHKBTB1xZ17y1pFsZlNDm6gBNJnJtwhFGVPLqW75o6ELg24xN8qHmIiUzNx_mX4QvtBAOLstpFTOsyPE4VmQujRgoeeW_R_p0dXNWPmAGQ2uM9H0EwnxMwLH_E1owrtjsqRBzFj4/s1600/DSC_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk4EPdHKBTB1xZ17y1pFsZlNDm6gBNJnJtwhFGVPLqW75o6ELg24xN8qHmIiUzNx_mX4QvtBAOLstpFTOsyPE4VmQujRgoeeW_R_p0dXNWPmAGQ2uM9H0EwnxMwLH_E1owrtjsqRBzFj4/s640/DSC_0030.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph prepares the troop meeting agenda one final time on election night.</i></td></tr>
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<b>Not one who clamors for the spotlight</b>, Joseph served well as the leader of his Boy Scout troop for the past six months as the Senior Patrol Leader. He faithfully organized the meetings and coordinated the outings, including several grand outdoor adventures. Joseph delegated as needed and made sure all the various moving parts were in order during his half year term. Mentored diligently by his Scoutmaster/dad, Joseph worked hard behind the scenes to make sure the events ran smoothly and the collective goals and individual requirements could be achieved. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Holding a scepter of power, soon to be passed off</i></td></tr>
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<b>Adding a touch of charm to everything</b>, and always ready with a grin, Joseph's leadership skills blossomed during his term as SPL. Having completing his Eagle Scout Project and rank application, Joseph will soon face the district board of review to complete the path from Life Scout to Eagle Rank.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK8m7-piCNWQbnu8QDx0Z47fBtkpVHBU6IosH1_Z0CNPf-qtwrbRxRE28eRZARpW_Ij55G3QDzHKakyUjHg55cfHFmTc1pzRq8Vg0HxMJmXB2scfvxinKEDoNIHNoyucMxbvndc97WUss/s1600/DSC_0054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK8m7-piCNWQbnu8QDx0Z47fBtkpVHBU6IosH1_Z0CNPf-qtwrbRxRE28eRZARpW_Ij55G3QDzHKakyUjHg55cfHFmTc1pzRq8Vg0HxMJmXB2scfvxinKEDoNIHNoyucMxbvndc97WUss/s640/DSC_0054.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph and Connor lead the troop ASPL elections, collecting ballots to be counted in secret</i>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Game on!</i></td></tr>
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<b>Highlights of Joseph's term as Senior Patrol Leader:</b></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Summer camp</li>
<li>Cross to Ross <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/08/cross-2-ross-13-day-1-hannegan-pass-to.html">50 miler</a></li>
<li>Aviation Merit Badge</li>
<li>Good meetings</li>
<li>Submitting Eagle Rank application</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Introducing the newly elected troop leaders, Joseph prepares to hand off SPL to Connor.</i></td></tr>
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"<i>It was fun while it lasted and it's good to be done</i>." </div>
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~Joseph, Life Scout & outgoing Senior Patrol Leader</div>
BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-53455309489189399312013-11-02T20:31:00.000-07:002013-11-04T06:46:11.336-08:00Never Forget the Dead {All Souls}<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAOafKy6SOmqFsJJitECl5a7Q4FzW8_g3nLEcZ6u3pNFIawCiNC7xcBBJOenGY6ScCHNRnh0mKBuWsLKK9eJZ2oeyC_cWg2VbtxFC6Eqpkbx5OjEvtNu-qpqKY0nOGQ7h0tMzkFuJpl4/s1600/IMG_20131102_095050_996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizAOafKy6SOmqFsJJitECl5a7Q4FzW8_g3nLEcZ6u3pNFIawCiNC7xcBBJOenGY6ScCHNRnh0mKBuWsLKK9eJZ2oeyC_cWg2VbtxFC6Eqpkbx5OjEvtNu-qpqKY0nOGQ7h0tMzkFuJpl4/s640/IMG_20131102_095050_996.jpg" width="640"></a></div>
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<b>Do you give more thought to fallen leaves</b> than to your fallen relatives and friends? Some of our dearly departed are still awaiting heaven, in a cleansing place called purgatory, and benefit from our prayers and sacrifices on their behalf. <br>
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<b>Whether one believes in it or not</b><span><b>, purgatory is real</b> and if we end up there we'll wish more people down here were earnestly praying for our release. On </span><span><span>All Souls Day</span> (November 2) the Church commemorates all the faithful departed and we continue to hold them in our prayers in a special way throughout the month of November.</span><br>
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<span><b>Priests are allowed to offer three Masses on All Souls Day</b>. Participating in these Masses (though not required) is an honor and a gift we can give the poor souls awaiting heaven. </span><br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Father Saguto, FSSP, offers Mass at Holyrood Catholic Cemetery on All Souls Day.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>An altar boy lights the candles surrounding the catafalque on All Souls Day.</i> </td></tr>
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<span><b><span>Biblical scholar </span></b><span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VO0nPoFOODI">Dr. Scott Hahn gives a straight forward answer</a> to questions surrounding the biblical truths of purgatory in an interview on EWTN's Journey Home. As a former anti-Catholic and still zealous evangelist, his perspective is especially insightful</span></span><br>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Father Vreeland, FSSP, prays absolution over the catafalque at High Mass</i>.</td></tr>
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<span>If you've never been to a <a href="http://www.sanctamissa.org/en/tutorial/missa-solemnis/missa-solemnis-requiem.html">Solemn High Requiem Mass for All Souls Day</a>, St. John Cantius Church in Chicago, Illinois, uploaded a video of theirs. Consider it a history lesson in this year of faith. </span><br>
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<span><b>Today I attended my first </b></span><span>High Requiem Mass for All Souls Day at North American Martyrs parish in Seattle. The Gregorian Chant from the choir loft above sounded heavenly, as always, and the somber tone of the sequence before the Gospel was especially moving.</span><span> I posted a short clip (above), which, though a poor amateur recording from the pew, gives a little auditory taste of today's high Mass in Seattle. </span><br>
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<span><b>Someone once told Venerable Fulton Sheen</b>, "<i>I don't believe in hell.</i>" Rev. Sheen quipped, "<i>You will when you get there.</i>" The same could be said about purgatory, "<i>You'll believe in it if you stop there on your path to heaven.</i>"</span><span> </span><br>
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<span> <a href="http://www.usccb.org/bible/2mc/12">II Mac 12</a>:38-46</span></div>
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<span>Hebrews 12:29 </span></div>
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<span>1 Cor 3 </span></div>
<br><br><span style="color: red;"><b>May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.</b></span><br>
<br>BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-35694696415476782882013-11-01T09:26:00.000-07:002013-11-01T09:26:07.025-07:00Heavely Friends {Holy Day}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>My best friends, role models, and namesakes are in heaven</b>. These holy friends are certainly not dead, but <i>living</i> in heaven and stand ready and able to assist me (and you) by their prayers of intercession. </div>
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<b>Today we celebrate and commemorate our heavenly friends</b> on the Solemnity of All Saints. I wouldn't miss going to Holy Mass today for anything! I am sad to think of so many Catholic Christians who no longer believe in Holy Days and don't follow the teachings of the Church about the obligation to attend Mass today. <i>But I get it</i>, for I was once very far from caring one whit about holy days of obligation myself. Please, God, have mercy.</div>
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<b>Today's <a href="http://divineoffice.org/">Divine Office</a> readings</b> included passages from the Book of Revelation (5:1-14) and from a sermon of <a href="http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=559">St. Bernard</a>, Abbot and Doctor (+1153). St. Bernard's sermon so eloquently teaches about the reasons why we celebrate this Feast and invoke the saints' intercession in our daily struggles. I love that this sermon dates back to the 1100's:</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Why should our praise and glorification, or even the celebration of
this feast day mean anything to the saints? What do they care about
earthly honors when their heavenly Father honors them by fulfilling the
faithful promise of the Son? What does our commendation mean to them?
The saints have no need of honor from us; neither does our devotion add
the slightest thing to what is theirs. Clearly, if we venerate their
memory, it serves us, not them. But I tell you, when I think of them, I
feel myself inflamed by a tremendous yearning.</i> </blockquote>
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<i>Calling the saints to mind inspires, or rather arouses in us, above
all else, a longing to enjoy their company, so desirable in itself. We
long to share in the citizenship of heaven, to dwell with the spirits of
the blessed, to join the assembly of patriarchs, the ranks of the
prophets, the council of apostles, the great host of martyrs, the noble
company of confessors and the choir of virgins. In short, we long to be
united in happiness with all the saints. But our dispositions change.
The Church of all the first followers of Christ awaits us, but we do
nothing about it. The saints want us to be with them, and we are
indifferent. The souls of the just await us, and we ignore them.</i> </blockquote>
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<i>Come, brothers, let us at length spur ourselves on. We must rise
again with Christ, we must seek the world which is above and set our
mind on the things of heaven. Let us long for those who are longing for
us, hasten to those who are waiting for us, and ask those who look for
our coming to intercede for us. We should not only want to be with the
saints, we should also hope to possess their happiness. While we desire
to be in their company, we must also earnestly seek to share in their
glory. Do not imagine that there is anything harmful in such an ambition
as this; there is no danger in setting our hearts on such glory.</i> </blockquote>
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<i>When we commemorate the saints we are inflamed with another yearning:
that Christ our life may also appear to us as he appeared to them and
that we may one day share in his glory. Until then we see him, not as he
is, but as he became for our sake. He is our head, crowned, not with
glory, but with the thorns of our sins. As members of that head, crowned
with thorns, we should be ashamed to live in luxury; his purple robes
are a mockery rather than an honor. When Christ comes again, his death
shall no longer be proclaimed, and we shall know that we also have died,
and that our life is hidden with him. The glorious head of the Church
will appear and his glorified members will shine in splendor with him,
when he forms this lowly body anew into such glory as belongs to
himself, its head.</i> </blockquote>
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<i>Therefore, we should aim at attaining this glory with a wholehearted
and prudent desire. That we may rightly hope and strive for such
blessedness, we must above all seek the prayers of the saints. Thus,
what is beyond our own powers to obtain will be granted through their
intercession. - St. Bernard, Abbot and Doctor +1153</i></blockquote>
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<span style="color: red;"><b>Saint Bernard, and ALL SAINTS: Pray for us! </b></span><br />
BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-837502184479238222013-10-29T10:46:00.000-07:002013-10-29T10:46:48.299-07:00Heroic Parenting {Father Cozzens' Story}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Bishop-elect Andrew Cozzens shows his mother, Judy, a pectoral cross given to him by Archbishop John Nienstedt. (Dave Hrbacek/The Catholic Spirit)" class="size-full wp-image-38333" height="370" src="http://thecatholicspirit.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/WEB.cozzens.mom_.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="550" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bishop-elect Andrew Cozzens shows his mother, Judy, a pectoral cross
given to him by Archbishop John Nienstedt. </i>(Dave Hrbacek/The Catholic
Spirit)</td></tr>
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<a href="http://thecatholicspirit.com/featured/abort-child-way-says-bishop-elects-mom/#.Um_qykap_bM.blogger">Abort my child? No way, says bishop-elect’s mom</a><br />
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<b>The devil tried to kill Father Andrew Cozzens</b> before he was born, by <a href="http://thecatholicspirit.com/featured/abort-child-way-says-bishop-elects-mom/">tempting his pregnant mother</a> to kill him through the words of a pro-abortion doctor who labelled her unborn child a 'freak.'<br />
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<b>Praise God for Judy and Jack Cozzens' strong faith and God given grace</b> to resist the culture of death and the father of lies. The Cozzens' amazing story exposes the underlying (demonic) forces presenting abortion as simply a 'choice.' The devil will always choose abortion, and tragically, many mothers and fathers will not have the strength or the conviction to resist the temptation to kill their children. May God have mercy.<br />
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<b>Please pray</b> for those tempted to abort. Please pray for <a href="http://www.attwn.org/">abortion clinic workers to seek healing</a> and find employment outside the industry of death. Please pray for the <a href="http://www.antichoiceproject.com/2008/09/anti-choice-project-signs.html">truth about abortion</a> to be known in every human heart. Fast and pray for an end to abortion.<br />
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<i><span class="text John-17-17" id="en-RSV-26759">Sanctify them in the truth; thy word is truth.</span></i> </blockquote>
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<i><span class="text John-17-17" id="en-RSV-26759">-John 17:17</span></i></blockquote>
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BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-72489642902184496062013-10-24T22:16:00.001-07:002013-10-24T22:16:18.559-07:007 Quick Takes {Home birth, Poison, Fog, and Fire}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Necessity: mother of invention...</i></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">1</span></b></div>
<b>Modern appliances cannot withstand the force</b> of masculine teenage energy around here. Thus, there are a few appliances under our roof with missing or damaged handles. We now operate the injured microwave door with a butter knife. The shower's faucet handle was pulled right off in an attempt to turn it on one day, but this required immediate and proper replacement, no butter knife bandage. Dad and lad plumbing project ensued. Note: these are not the result of any angry outbursts or reckless behavior; merely the aftereffects of super-human teenage strength vs. plastic parts.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Rural firefighting action</i></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">2</span> </b></div>
<b>The three hour crawl</b> transporting Peter back to school after his (Canadian) Thanksgiving break included a dramatic, fiery scene along the two lane highway leading to the US/Canadian border.<br />
A pile of flaming debris blocking all lanes of traffic was beaten back and shoved aside by a farmer with his tractor, while the sounds of the volunteer firefighting crews' sirens were heard nearing the scene. Oddly, the day we drove Peter to high school seminary for day one, there was also wildfire along the side of the road, but on the BC side. Explosive commutes.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Seattle, smothered in fog</i>.</td></tr>
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<b><b><span style="font-size: large;">3</span></b> </b></div>
<b>We are experiencing a string of extremely foggy days</b> in the great Northwest. We get the occasional bursts of fog from time to time, but this season seems especially foggy for some reason. As a result, Joseph's student driving experiences have included a few extra foggy sessions. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVG1pD0ROpBU2p1Ba1FA1_ESZym9fGH1JIARUbe90OwdBBZ2yZ9LmiYqg6FHX_kHCCxkFVQi0TU8JN7ZCW1CC6jOVq6uo_NpGbG8vVBPp86ps8-NX6E6ws6BszslHWlr275ij6xUkCd3c/s1600/IMG_20131011_125543_155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVG1pD0ROpBU2p1Ba1FA1_ESZym9fGH1JIARUbe90OwdBBZ2yZ9LmiYqg6FHX_kHCCxkFVQi0TU8JN7ZCW1CC6jOVq6uo_NpGbG8vVBPp86ps8-NX6E6ws6BszslHWlr275ij6xUkCd3c/s640/IMG_20131011_125543_155.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cathy!</i></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><b><span style="font-size: large;">4</span></b> </b></div>
<b>Our dear friend and old neighbors' nanny Cathy</b> returned for a quick stop over in Bellingham recently, and blessed us with a morning visit at the house. She left covered in Rocky fur, and promised to come back again some day. Who knew we'd be competing with the likes of Philadelphia for Cathy's home town allegiance? A very talented musician, Cathy can be heard on occasion accompanying the choir on her violin at Masses at the Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul in Philly. Not a bad gig, Cathy! Keep the faith!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Homegrown goodies for Grandma Patty's birthday present</i></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>5</b></span> </div>
<b>Gifting our homegrown produce</b> completed the cycle of farming joy. The boys' determination in planting and tending to their gardens this year resulted in a fine harvest of a variety of fruits and vegetables. An odd 'no squash' yield has us a bit puzzled, as does the low turnout of sugar pumpkins.<br />
But the super-sized (perfect for pie) apples from Joseph's tree, and the phenomenal green bean crop took the sting out of the lesser reapings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmA8Oh7LMrIQxZj-B1nCr62Nqucq2dl7uaTBcOblPPXrcxk6oQwXewPji7amP3B7yx9eEmLbrDzApwR8maJyqd5vqnOFSQsJgkmrdVrb5MpttP6278RlOze8huMAcNwFXwUT0Hab1x2pk/s1600/DSC_0043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmA8Oh7LMrIQxZj-B1nCr62Nqucq2dl7uaTBcOblPPXrcxk6oQwXewPji7amP3B7yx9eEmLbrDzApwR8maJyqd5vqnOFSQsJgkmrdVrb5MpttP6278RlOze8huMAcNwFXwUT0Hab1x2pk/s640/DSC_0043.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Grandma Patty and Great Grandma O'D</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifbk5DhgRGnnnPcFStbJ7aThugU5KzhEAuvSzmLkB6F5HaR7AK6UIljUZLWoeanbzwbXUA2OFbTH9zy7OqgsHZ0hVmHVDUUavlurvYav6z6wvo1dE3iZOoIEIM-_eiPT3A2KHvlUlB2TY/s1600/DSC_0052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifbk5DhgRGnnnPcFStbJ7aThugU5KzhEAuvSzmLkB6F5HaR7AK6UIljUZLWoeanbzwbXUA2OFbTH9zy7OqgsHZ0hVmHVDUUavlurvYav6z6wvo1dE3iZOoIEIM-_eiPT3A2KHvlUlB2TY/s640/DSC_0052.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Farmer Joseph with his Grandma Patty on her birthday</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6t9IPi8Fw_SwAPO6EUDKsfvXOlDJdnzqq3KX7PHaxmKeYY-aUlM9r2-7KO15vV1JZeAGe5FT4PwZ-HGk3Vfc2G03n29otXs2oM_SBZ2nWkT0zvPaRHgZOef4uRxB9l7QvHxjKNs4iaQA/s1600/DSC_0099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6t9IPi8Fw_SwAPO6EUDKsfvXOlDJdnzqq3KX7PHaxmKeYY-aUlM9r2-7KO15vV1JZeAGe5FT4PwZ-HGk3Vfc2G03n29otXs2oM_SBZ2nWkT0zvPaRHgZOef4uRxB9l7QvHxjKNs4iaQA/s640/DSC_0099.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Poison in progress</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20ENQezWc8QRLEEkI8069k_e92q9-HPzFFuL_8aJ5asKf86WwN4hDjjRP39-PHrlsZL29PxvtrTHdzxw1NndDng4xbaE4byF7Zx14GIyM5X1WY6YAQxLYfsDnk87FKGLHFghXwBS30z8/s1600/DSC_0100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj20ENQezWc8QRLEEkI8069k_e92q9-HPzFFuL_8aJ5asKf86WwN4hDjjRP39-PHrlsZL29PxvtrTHdzxw1NndDng4xbaE4byF7Zx14GIyM5X1WY6YAQxLYfsDnk87FKGLHFghXwBS30z8/s640/DSC_0100.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Look out below!</i><b><br /></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKVUyRWLptHhF3zHEr2U904G2IC5P-o7FB_-dFOJjoLf6RVW2_9MhehUWeRTCqxufeno69ERrjgIrOoszKDZZZxlnU7hp06ZIFAsm0YGhuszrTiMG3P6F5CqwHKpTeDqSEgQ_oUHHTX8g/s1600/DSC_0110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKVUyRWLptHhF3zHEr2U904G2IC5P-o7FB_-dFOJjoLf6RVW2_9MhehUWeRTCqxufeno69ERrjgIrOoszKDZZZxlnU7hp06ZIFAsm0YGhuszrTiMG3P6F5CqwHKpTeDqSEgQ_oUHHTX8g/s640/DSC_0110.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Judah and Joseph compete in the final round of poison</i><b>.</b></td></tr>
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</b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b></span><b><b><span style="font-size: large;">6</span></b></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Joseph's days as Senior Patrol Leader are numbered</b> as his term draws to a close.</span></span><b><b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></b></b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">A final 'hoorah' will happen as the troop gathers for the semi-annual boy led Junior Leader Training (JLT). Joseph, as the outgoing SPL, plans this JLT to coincide with a day hike in the glorious Chuckanut Range. No use sitting in a church basement on a Saturday when you could be outside on an adventure laden with leadership lessons along the way.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Nuptial Mass at Sacred Heart</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>7</b></span></div>
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<b>Marriage and childbirth!</b></div>
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I had the great pleasure of assisting behind the scenes at a holy wedding and a home birth this week. My role was very minor in both events, but opportunities to be up close and personal in these moments of profound grace are blessings beyond description. The union of Mark and Katy and the birth of Janell and Alain's little Lucia are signs of Christ's light in our local community and throughout our Universal Church. What a privilege to be a witness to these blessed events!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Samuel (3) meets his little sister, Lucia, on her birth day</i>.</td></tr>
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Visit Jen's Conversion Diary via Clan Donaldson for more <a href="http://www.clan-donaldson.com/2013/10/seven-quick-takes_25.html">Quick Takes</a>!</div>
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BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-49234616097811940792013-10-18T14:46:00.001-07:002013-10-18T14:46:30.908-07:00Fruits of the Hunt {Duck Dinner Party with Twins}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfbFkfQMhPCf5B8icA0RoXYCoKqXGzsihJlHh0sRLXUTQIv8YTLxXo9NWeU0_7QMN24R4YNNIrQJzayXrjjnrwqE-Sa_A0sFtMde8CEr35XejDdpDPdCApMcc8BMIAVNw-jysT-UU-f0/s1600/DSCN6141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfbFkfQMhPCf5B8icA0RoXYCoKqXGzsihJlHh0sRLXUTQIv8YTLxXo9NWeU0_7QMN24R4YNNIrQJzayXrjjnrwqE-Sa_A0sFtMde8CEr35XejDdpDPdCApMcc8BMIAVNw-jysT-UU-f0/s640/DSCN6141.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Gargoyle-ish duck 'trophies' proudly displayed on our front porch</i></td></tr>
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<b>Not exactly celebrating Canadian Thanksgiving</b>, but extremely grateful for Peter's first home weekend on the occasion of the national holiday up north, we cooked up the ducks for Sunday's dinner. Our special guests for the feast were our <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2011/07/displaced-for-charity-new-foster.html">little twin friends</a>, <i>Luke and Leia</i>, whose visits are always joyful and fun. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Stuffed, seasoned and ready for the oven</i></td></tr>
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<b>Not known as much of a carnivore,</b> <i>Luke</i> chomped down a few pieces of the steak-like delicacy before he realized what was going on. Peter gladly claimed<i> Luke's</i> portion, though, so nothing went to waste. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph reads to 'Leia' as Rocky stands guard.</i></td></tr>
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<b>In the early morning fog,</b> driving home after collecting the twins, I mentioned that we would be going to Church together and that there would be music, since it was <u>Sun</u>day. "Where's the <u>sun</u>?" <i>Luke</i> demanded. As might be expected of a pair of rambunctious threes, <i>Luke </i>and <i>Leia</i> found it impossible to stay quiet and hold still in the pew, so we took advantage of the parish nursery midway through the Bible readings. As a result, the other Mass-goers could better hear Father Joseph's fine homily, preceded by another <i>cassock controversy</i> update. <br />
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<b>The twins always enjoy attending Mass</b> with us and love the holy water font in the entryway. Oftentimes and at odd times, <i>Luke</i> will beg me to please take him to Church. Many of our friends there have known these two since they were about eleven months old, so there's quite a fan club of admirers and prayer warriors.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>'Luke' practices his daredevil stunts on the plasma car</i>.</td></tr>
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<b>Peter's time with the twins may have taken second place</b> behind his <a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/10/opening-day-duck-cleaning-101.html">first-ever hunting experience</a> as the 'high' of his home visit weekend. But the 'low' must certainly have been the three hour slog back to school on Monday night; especially the two hour crawl to the border at Sumas. Luckily the gate at Westminster Abbey had not yet been locked, so Peter was able to rejoin life at the high school seminary, already in progress. Joseph spent a few minutes helping Peter haul his gear to his room and desk, and after a short visit with other parents we headed back toward the US border. We were the only car and the wait was 0 minutes, so the balance for the night was an hour each way if you average the two crossings. <br />
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{Note to self: Double or triple travel time to Canada on Canadian holidays.}<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter and 'Luke' ride tandem on the plasma car.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZByJKvwC_uJ8yh86FactJByfONOL7aG2TYwKKA35xh8S2DzFOAGS6Rh2xUHbVnFpgRlLjDvzcRZ1Pd67CFvdtZRJ4iFm4uc4vJwvTMdA2utV4i0ninHFGj1lnqIO0xnoatn4ARjSnOs/s1600/DSCN6160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZByJKvwC_uJ8yh86FactJByfONOL7aG2TYwKKA35xh8S2DzFOAGS6Rh2xUHbVnFpgRlLjDvzcRZ1Pd67CFvdtZRJ4iFm4uc4vJwvTMdA2utV4i0ninHFGj1lnqIO0xnoatn4ARjSnOs/s640/DSCN6160.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"I like this meat!" exclaimed Leia, after tasting the roasted duck at dinner.</i> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyB6PmRyynvN9x-j8-3muSv8GpN-4C2QZ5-c-NWdRpK0CYKMS9XuV-smW3e0gWfNt9vTItCTT2-K3lPGeEvmkmCohpBelEW2cf7xjBxPSqNAHnu_C2Nsr-xU-1lyT7UjuAj8RE64o23s/s1600/DSCN6132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyB6PmRyynvN9x-j8-3muSv8GpN-4C2QZ5-c-NWdRpK0CYKMS9XuV-smW3e0gWfNt9vTItCTT2-K3lPGeEvmkmCohpBelEW2cf7xjBxPSqNAHnu_C2Nsr-xU-1lyT7UjuAj8RE64o23s/s640/DSCN6132.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Nearly as tall as Grandma Billie; Peter's recent growth spurt is hereby recorded for posterity</i>.</td></tr>
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<br />BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-18592034045806492132013-10-13T16:23:00.000-07:002013-10-13T16:23:35.802-07:00Opening Day {+ Duck Cleaning 101}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpZSKF6PoQnQe9XjR_dh44EJI3hm6pA2RsACYsW2NEbOLZ6iFO4cxcVmw7bvjOFhBPENTeMGlN9-fk1-tznUNhlrn7AtOGZ5Z8MGzu6Ejl2Jl36MgSleNXfJtPfV1QQhSolkmFAKeJRt0/s1600/DSCN6109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpZSKF6PoQnQe9XjR_dh44EJI3hm6pA2RsACYsW2NEbOLZ6iFO4cxcVmw7bvjOFhBPENTeMGlN9-fk1-tznUNhlrn7AtOGZ5Z8MGzu6Ejl2Jl36MgSleNXfJtPfV1QQhSolkmFAKeJRt0/s640/DSCN6109.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter's first hunting expedition</i></td></tr>
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<b>Peter's first home weekend</b> <b>from high school seminary</b> just happened to coincide with opening day of hunting season. Having recently completed hunter education classes along with Joseph, Peter gladly agreed to spend most of Saturday tromping through marshy fields in pursuit of ducks. Donning camouflaged gear and packs loaded with ammo, the guys set out at dawn for the nearby duck hunting territory with high hopes. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7d9C-SwyOGz46CjNbecWYMC12Z1Q1pOdy5bWDsjgHjlZsmnL-KRKHD4efdHuqfnwU5wfJ5WZNXtuGh-4b45CAQ7_dtOmZR5ubPirzcAz2_Yl9X17H0V4YX40Ke4AfuwBOD4_rAP5dXI/s1600/DSCN6112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge7d9C-SwyOGz46CjNbecWYMC12Z1Q1pOdy5bWDsjgHjlZsmnL-KRKHD4efdHuqfnwU5wfJ5WZNXtuGh-4b45CAQ7_dtOmZR5ubPirzcAz2_Yl9X17H0V4YX40Ke4AfuwBOD4_rAP5dXI/s640/DSCN6112.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph: his first duck down, with high hopes for another shot</i></td></tr>
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<br />
<b>For Peter, the 6AM alarm</b> allowed a bit of a sleep-in compared to his usual routine at school. Up and ready to roll, the guys grabbed a quick bite for breakfast before departing for the big hunting expedition. Rubber boots and hip waders in tow, Tim and the boys found a spot with likely resident ducks and began their pursuit in earnest. A few shots and several hours later, the score was Tim: 1, Peter & Joseph: 0. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHzOUZiTtAbVXP17Ins9Ti8t39-WFmOwSF-J4zN2e0Rw6TayHFYQrkaIyZr1yBqOqm8H5nnThV_5PBT7bIi0FYSdV2JkrvFW4LTsRUhUL5H-Jtzv_Q7Vl3KGw1TcQq5CU5qPPigji_O6o/s1600/DSCN6094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHzOUZiTtAbVXP17Ins9Ti8t39-WFmOwSF-J4zN2e0Rw6TayHFYQrkaIyZr1yBqOqm8H5nnThV_5PBT7bIi0FYSdV2JkrvFW4LTsRUhUL5H-Jtzv_Q7Vl3KGw1TcQq5CU5qPPigji_O6o/s640/DSCN6094.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter displays his dad's first duck of the season.</i></td></tr>
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<br />
<b>The plucking and cleaning of duck #1</b>, captured on video
by Joseph (see below), should be a fun keepsake from the boys' first hunting expedition. Turns out
Peter's chores at the monastery included helping gut over 50 chickens on
slaughter Saturday, so he willingly volunteered to handle the primary duck cleaning duties. With only a little instruction from Tim, the bird was neatly prepared for cooking and put up.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBg8qLBLE3oEur1s2axyvKvrcoOG9W8zeHGlQwpjfUDKq2iwEFmIczXBkdHCV7Ohv7Ce6rqOcnsuz7HHts6S6bab0-VDgjOUiECmhHJPAjAWOHf1csdHQ082Q9IglBhALFHjTNXGztSBY/s1600/DSCN6095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBg8qLBLE3oEur1s2axyvKvrcoOG9W8zeHGlQwpjfUDKq2iwEFmIczXBkdHCV7Ohv7Ce6rqOcnsuz7HHts6S6bab0-VDgjOUiECmhHJPAjAWOHf1csdHQ082Q9IglBhALFHjTNXGztSBY/s640/DSCN6095.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Charlie jumps to investigate the prize.</i></td></tr>
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<b>One hunting trip (netting one duck) on opening day</b> just couldn't satisfy, so after a rest and reload at home (with a glimpse of the Huskies vs Ducks game on TV), they headed out for a second round in the nearby fields.
This time Joseph's aim was spot-on, and he brought home his first
duck. Tim connected with two more ducks, and the day was deemed an
overall victory. Dusk fell as they loaded up their guns and headed
toward home.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16j9AMeP8uydXgzP-mmhzrmPyVUeptmYsn-khalnQjDMvduK2BAjiH9bcIiYhM5eOrs672mKdQwTL7q4JVIsjT7PJFICY-YZWKwBdzY7lW9-Kcg28B8EZyGEtbkpK0x6shtmlCWDx85c/s1600/DSCN6104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16j9AMeP8uydXgzP-mmhzrmPyVUeptmYsn-khalnQjDMvduK2BAjiH9bcIiYhM5eOrs672mKdQwTL7q4JVIsjT7PJFICY-YZWKwBdzY7lW9-Kcg28B8EZyGEtbkpK0x6shtmlCWDx85c/s640/DSCN6104.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Peter cleans a duck for dinner.</i></td></tr>
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<br />BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-76496611149835027922013-10-12T17:24:00.000-07:002013-10-12T17:24:25.882-07:00Hosting Isabella {Day 4: Puget Sound Ferry Passage}<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQooM4IbwuRTQ4IXQluo_HVHSnBaTjVv3UNAMDbhZ9U1d41B-kAguwallex7Z8nPqhemnunZxY_vaxHAYDDMO81zHG-OJ3MYIYtsRAI1dvp6xh-sIZxZmasw9qgS4bLXh7egeBd0XqgUk/s1600/IMG_20130928_111834_499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQooM4IbwuRTQ4IXQluo_HVHSnBaTjVv3UNAMDbhZ9U1d41B-kAguwallex7Z8nPqhemnunZxY_vaxHAYDDMO81zHG-OJ3MYIYtsRAI1dvp6xh-sIZxZmasw9qgS4bLXh7egeBd0XqgUk/s640/IMG_20130928_111834_499.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Isabella with our boys' home schooled cousins Violet, Weston, Sawyer, Aunt Bethany and Uncle Craig</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Continued from <i><a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/10/hosting-isabella-day-3-pike-place-to.html">Day 3: Pike Place to the Narrows Bridge</a> </i></span><br />
<br />
<b>Navigating our way home to Bellingham </b>with Isabella after Dad's retirement party involved a sleep-over at Tim's brother's house after a spontaneous Friday night dinner at Aileen's place. With only a short time to visit on Saturday morning before our planned adventure aboard a Washington State Ferry, Isabella became a fast friend of the young cousins over cereal and coloring.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNebYR5_qmy9rPYmla3FUqj8s5RkcQ0GiF20ka09P1lIEj5beHWl_isX10G6biJA5YyD_eKk8N9bZqFeLmRnHjJH6XdR27JEJ2tk-tjXGjF3ENJegekNk1GRFyihI9xIF5YMrDYcwtgs/s1600/IMG_20130928_111516_959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNebYR5_qmy9rPYmla3FUqj8s5RkcQ0GiF20ka09P1lIEj5beHWl_isX10G6biJA5YyD_eKk8N9bZqFeLmRnHjJH6XdR27JEJ2tk-tjXGjF3ENJegekNk1GRFyihI9xIF5YMrDYcwtgs/s640/IMG_20130928_111516_959.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Isabella the artist with Violet and Sawyer</i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAp-Dm3OU2yzaKgDExlzWBOBoHGkDj9ndjnvvY0JywkgBV_LubPfDdlGJt9Tx0oK9qyIztAgnqwI7FBVFPKVBtpVXka88hIJseyGEQoPKzupmRDapaX8_OybeBpH39GH_ctkO2gbrMNI/s1600/IMG_20130928_111617_466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAp-Dm3OU2yzaKgDExlzWBOBoHGkDj9ndjnvvY0JywkgBV_LubPfDdlGJt9Tx0oK9qyIztAgnqwI7FBVFPKVBtpVXka88hIJseyGEQoPKzupmRDapaX8_OybeBpH39GH_ctkO2gbrMNI/s640/IMG_20130928_111617_466.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Isabella teaches geography, highlighting Australia</i></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NX13yIeR4i9_l6yIJH2qkXnXhlEFmYM_iWdpRgFlG5YuNq58qyodYW9LEnSFRjD6m-kY2yx8Ie_nNh15NUdHEjiCJ8y3D4BHXOq1rB88VM6yIRlvka8-sJo16osvLCCLbCW5ewrKJ5Y/s1600/IMG_20130928_111645_650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NX13yIeR4i9_l6yIJH2qkXnXhlEFmYM_iWdpRgFlG5YuNq58qyodYW9LEnSFRjD6m-kY2yx8Ie_nNh15NUdHEjiCJ8y3D4BHXOq1rB88VM6yIRlvka8-sJo16osvLCCLbCW5ewrKJ5Y/s640/IMG_20130928_111645_650.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sawyer takes a closer look.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Arriving at the ferry terminal </b>we were directed to the "maybe" lane, and as it became quite obvious that we wouldn't be aboard the loading vessel, we hatched a quick ejection plan. Isabella, Joseph and I grabbed our rain coats and boarded the ferry as walk-ons, leaving Tim to wait in the van for the next sailing. As the Edmonds Saturday Market would be in full swing, we decided to kill time over yonder. <br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /><i> </i></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5S68-I4kT-y9V-9xuCOV3l33WxkhkFofICdraGuftSLagr_RREZ90yXSsmQGSFTmDpyPhXwt19fbe-VMwCsAgTzz6XHtkBRSM7qVDgDoJMDUaobUexMBk9kgQRkx0mC385PdWeZf7NUA/s1600/IMG_20130928_115508_424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5S68-I4kT-y9V-9xuCOV3l33WxkhkFofICdraGuftSLagr_RREZ90yXSsmQGSFTmDpyPhXwt19fbe-VMwCsAgTzz6XHtkBRSM7qVDgDoJMDUaobUexMBk9kgQRkx0mC385PdWeZf7NUA/s640/IMG_20130928_115508_424.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Isabella, Joseph and I board the Spokane for the Kingston to Edmonds crossing.</i></td></tr>
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<b>White caps on Puget Sound with driving rain and wind</b> made the ferry experience a rather *indoor* experience, at least for Isabella and me. Joseph preferred to tough it out on the prow, and spent almost the entire trip facing the storm head-on, in shorts. To each his own!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdnnU0nbm4nOj-5Idl_MKlZ-sSYfwY4RsYpvjye0uqWqBZb95L-2qKNFgp2weWvwPIlLMbq5zd09VZ4BJU1j2mkILh1kVnMHk0tR8aR9F9GKzTYxhuFRLt5BWXgoATltf1AU8QprQQao/s1600/IMG_20130928_115751_119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjdnnU0nbm4nOj-5Idl_MKlZ-sSYfwY4RsYpvjye0uqWqBZb95L-2qKNFgp2weWvwPIlLMbq5zd09VZ4BJU1j2mkILh1kVnMHk0tR8aR9F9GKzTYxhuFRLt5BWXgoATltf1AU8QprQQao/s640/IMG_20130928_115751_119.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Isabella aboard the Spokane</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>By the time we reached Edmonds,</b> our only glimpse of the Saturday Market was of the few remaining vendors hastily loading up their wares and heading out.
The rain and wind claimed the victory, and we opted to pass the lunch
hour at one of our favorite Mexican restaurants in Tim's old home town. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AGo7EfHQkvQxEJVeFR6i3OJq0tQzaBzWsDTDA5mfmFdeU851pgVtE6m1XYEmZo2SDxzd_KNzdvoMJ9_x7AEdJXoQD7WHRgDNHsapJ0CazIZeelgTQdsQYR6rqu8DvXu1cZNLOKNk7W0/s1600/IMG_20130928_121202_345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AGo7EfHQkvQxEJVeFR6i3OJq0tQzaBzWsDTDA5mfmFdeU851pgVtE6m1XYEmZo2SDxzd_KNzdvoMJ9_x7AEdJXoQD7WHRgDNHsapJ0CazIZeelgTQdsQYR6rqu8DvXu1cZNLOKNk7W0/s640/IMG_20130928_121202_345.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Not much of a view due to the weather, but we caught a glimpse of a passing ferry.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Reunited with Tim</b> <b>after his ferry landed</b>, we made it home to Bellingham in time to collect the twins (<i>Luke </i>and <i>Leia</i>)
and bring them along to the 5PM Mass after spending a bit of time
watching <i>Luke</i> race through the house on Joseph's plasma car at
break-neck speed. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9BpML3BUUED2V36y3GTdCOqF-uWXkPixnH9ou4OInHKPxlk-fMSl82qoXR8cRVkwX7fcvVsaHptoFk0su-zfrvoI7ggX1lGdPsqTAEF78_jSvo71keVw1t-cNP8YREbvhCvaaW7NzS-A/s1600/IMG_20130928_121412_777.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9BpML3BUUED2V36y3GTdCOqF-uWXkPixnH9ou4OInHKPxlk-fMSl82qoXR8cRVkwX7fcvVsaHptoFk0su-zfrvoI7ggX1lGdPsqTAEF78_jSvo71keVw1t-cNP8YREbvhCvaaW7NzS-A/s640/IMG_20130928_121412_777.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph on the prow </i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>We wrapped up our Saturday adventures</b> with a take out Teriyaki supper and an evening trip to Walmart in search of a cheap suitcase to help Isabella avoid overweight baggage fees on her flight home to Australia. We also enjoyed a bit of Facetime with her Aunt Michele, our dear friend, who will be visiting with her family in January, seeking winter adventures in the Great Northwest. <br />
<br />
<b>An early Sunday morning trip to SeaTac</b> concluded our 'hosting Isabella' days, which brought us great joy and helped us reconnect with our wonderful Australian friends. Maybe someday Isabella's sisters will venture our way, or perhaps even her parents? Or maybe we will finally cross the big pond again to visit all of them in their native land. Only time will tell!BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-35090436566383676832013-10-05T21:37:00.000-07:002013-10-05T21:37:39.454-07:00The Stork's Retirement {OB/GYN Career Wrap Up} <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3_Iw1wuRYWtC_tWTkLbRE_7-BSiTpDnPP8LLLaiVR15oa_LYmUJdMY2lJdPZ6hKOvUJ3rKOBkvtqpfbw5FIXimPZ_Y5CcGssDj_er1-M6L0vdCOATqpThFY9r9PUZ_-qFYMj1cR1COw/s1600/DSC_0010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3_Iw1wuRYWtC_tWTkLbRE_7-BSiTpDnPP8LLLaiVR15oa_LYmUJdMY2lJdPZ6hKOvUJ3rKOBkvtqpfbw5FIXimPZ_Y5CcGssDj_er1-M6L0vdCOATqpThFY9r9PUZ_-qFYMj1cR1COw/s640/DSC_0010.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>That's my dad!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>The Stork is grounded.</b><br />
<b>No more midnight races to the hospital for my dad</b>, as his (OB/)GYN days have officially drawn to a close. Locking up his practice, sending off the charts, and closing this chapter of his career wasn't an easy move, but a necessary one, and Dad entered into his retirement with a style all his own. A bittersweet moment to be sure, and one that we sure didn't want to miss.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAQjfBpf8mBIZt7ZYHg18kD8B6XEULjnEcn3YpYveRo0VUPwIbvHuNVAG-VaSE6er0aKeNPht1lpMauv15x_Z_c4eGThdQTMJyXmebN1UFAldCi-MY7HVnZaCSk8e80i5lV90dpaECaw/s1600/DSC_0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAQjfBpf8mBIZt7ZYHg18kD8B6XEULjnEcn3YpYveRo0VUPwIbvHuNVAG-VaSE6er0aKeNPht1lpMauv15x_Z_c4eGThdQTMJyXmebN1UFAldCi-MY7HVnZaCSk8e80i5lV90dpaECaw/s640/DSC_0024.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dad's last dictation for the patient charts</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><b>Business as usual</b> for the first half of his last work day, Dad juggled hospital rounds, patient visits and office tasks. Saving the best for last, he invited Aileen to be his final 'patient' since her mom, Kathy (+), had been Dad's very first patient in private practice. Aileen gladly obliged, and brought two of her sons along for the (non-medical) visit. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEnan7IWx99LO5GFhi9GSr2lRlAeh8zdlYLiT9TUW67B9iKHx5WGaBV17JzCEdulC7DX9L-HF42m_Bgy_o747FhiIp-cp6qs0b6ScA4DP9LUVpLxjtK3qgSW0eYpOacvgmDdBaIkmTjgE/s1600/DSC_0041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEnan7IWx99LO5GFhi9GSr2lRlAeh8zdlYLiT9TUW67B9iKHx5WGaBV17JzCEdulC7DX9L-HF42m_Bgy_o747FhiIp-cp6qs0b6ScA4DP9LUVpLxjtK3qgSW0eYpOacvgmDdBaIkmTjgE/s640/DSC_0041.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Lots of relics around Dad's office will soon have a new home.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNEr9RJ-39HdyhmsqHY21ERW4SVzzvfuyFbxcDMX0mfiTK4WSujTNNpztSqM9kEF9Or7qImqJ3CXYJmZjQspNIBiyFZ1MC7cofvKxE3VKWnjcS0X2dPq0QGLEZHlu1uwS2MvxnR95Wlxc/s1600/DSC_0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNEr9RJ-39HdyhmsqHY21ERW4SVzzvfuyFbxcDMX0mfiTK4WSujTNNpztSqM9kEF9Or7qImqJ3CXYJmZjQspNIBiyFZ1MC7cofvKxE3VKWnjcS0X2dPq0QGLEZHlu1uwS2MvxnR95Wlxc/s640/DSC_0020.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Adorning the waiting area one last day</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjspQ3yRDxfYsab8jM2vekWEwAifRmg51dJa5lFQ0VEDVrM3Sqav9OtKBfdwNkfrhhAdAGqeK2K4cak52z5d_j8Kz50ZcxA1TeCEp72KDyJxfBKycbCKHMDjgW24QdjfQsMB8enPzw2uu0/s1600/DSC_0046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjspQ3yRDxfYsab8jM2vekWEwAifRmg51dJa5lFQ0VEDVrM3Sqav9OtKBfdwNkfrhhAdAGqeK2K4cak52z5d_j8Kz50ZcxA1TeCEp72KDyJxfBKycbCKHMDjgW24QdjfQsMB8enPzw2uu0/s640/DSC_0046.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dad's last patient, Aileen, arrives with boys in tow.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNsrML_ZTJF8gMj2WILwaNOh0-7qBca3dHimyupqo9i-5ONoCTSvUIOuhJi_A9cEVlGEru4Y5adSBBxVjnbMnDGn2gVid5EZhcT_MNZHVU6u4JhCP13AF1FIMEnUAOL2a9C8-XmkcU63U/s1600/DSC_0056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNsrML_ZTJF8gMj2WILwaNOh0-7qBca3dHimyupqo9i-5ONoCTSvUIOuhJi_A9cEVlGEru4Y5adSBBxVjnbMnDGn2gVid5EZhcT_MNZHVU6u4JhCP13AF1FIMEnUAOL2a9C8-XmkcU63U/s640/DSC_0056.JPG" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Aileen (and Ryan behind door) visit with the good doctor at his last office call.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7NAWkoEmvFyptSQK_vT_4EYE7ZuUQsHwfe4BTwE5hOEutu5quBAdObb0QN7mCj15M0UYEc1JTL2xc9oGk5otwyR92az0IHhllZPDgMEvxhl7XSIeD1sqZSog8rP8KMJ62XgeUx5kH_k/s1600/DSC_0064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC7NAWkoEmvFyptSQK_vT_4EYE7ZuUQsHwfe4BTwE5hOEutu5quBAdObb0QN7mCj15M0UYEc1JTL2xc9oGk5otwyR92az0IHhllZPDgMEvxhl7XSIeD1sqZSog8rP8KMJ62XgeUx5kH_k/s640/DSC_0064.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bridget, Sam, and Tim hang out together in the waiting area.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3q7i2AO5tKqrq-rkNjNFPUZG3D8NW5JdIWwDhNxjTj1PYowZjbvzKmPtiZDnqS-70OemH3x7sCtIxXBm6CSXTEhuuazXTpUHjtdv6Nic_pw7Rg3fp5PIlQ-JS21WDtJb_xHlM6UoKZjY/s1600/DSC_0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3q7i2AO5tKqrq-rkNjNFPUZG3D8NW5JdIWwDhNxjTj1PYowZjbvzKmPtiZDnqS-70OemH3x7sCtIxXBm6CSXTEhuuazXTpUHjtdv6Nic_pw7Rg3fp5PIlQ-JS21WDtJb_xHlM6UoKZjY/s640/DSC_0067.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Back in his active OB days, Dad delivered Ryan, Aileen's son, as well as two of Aileen's sisters.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-LTeXzncrDPLr4DW5_KPNoQhL6iQrXa6SfVg-uGIYb3PxievQwRoo-vPjK7nkY_pBzczHtwG0yx_Nz4Gc2lthnVFzM0qxv7lYhASCyq0rGHjnMhw9xxhir8pDFTqMy2_IU0hqKv8oX4M/s1600/DSC_0070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-LTeXzncrDPLr4DW5_KPNoQhL6iQrXa6SfVg-uGIYb3PxievQwRoo-vPjK7nkY_pBzczHtwG0yx_Nz4Gc2lthnVFzM0qxv7lYhASCyq0rGHjnMhw9xxhir8pDFTqMy2_IU0hqKv8oX4M/s640/DSC_0070.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Proud retiring papa with his grandson, Joseph and daughter, Bridget</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM6XHH0j5esiFCpHkMoIkd4OnQhFlqFSRz1zLGWmybVLI2voHai87qdZ0YBeWshqc3gQEpQm59Qw-YORkC0mOBU-fc2OsO3eqVCCOvPyLW-nYdN4qSNwsWiqbaWjLrG5nlmMwSeCpWYVg/s1600/DSC_0076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM6XHH0j5esiFCpHkMoIkd4OnQhFlqFSRz1zLGWmybVLI2voHai87qdZ0YBeWshqc3gQEpQm59Qw-YORkC0mOBU-fc2OsO3eqVCCOvPyLW-nYdN4qSNwsWiqbaWjLrG5nlmMwSeCpWYVg/s640/DSC_0076.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Time to lock up the office for good...</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>When the final hour drew to a close</b>, Dad locked the doors one last
time and we all cheered him to a waiting limo for a short ride to his
retirement party. Joseph and Ryan jumped in the limo, too, and their
youthful enthusiasm kept the mood light and festive despite the
emotional weight of the passing of an era. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPRU04mwDpv4WXlqkYd5SXKz7gsyHzi3D4hXP-BAdUxT04fS_XATMXlAjqOhCZ0jM8_gNRmn4ir52zkuatfCmSkdmag-cqEjlwgv1RCtZl3ESN8gUc97NbhPvfCGngg-xURHO6XRIe_o/s1600/DSC_0082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPRU04mwDpv4WXlqkYd5SXKz7gsyHzi3D4hXP-BAdUxT04fS_XATMXlAjqOhCZ0jM8_gNRmn4ir52zkuatfCmSkdmag-cqEjlwgv1RCtZl3ESN8gUc97NbhPvfCGngg-xURHO6XRIe_o/s640/DSC_0082.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Party shoes on, the old Stork heads off in style for his retirement celebration.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCjrwV5t19UuVlWIhHEfDtPJeWChYisfMc8R7kM-1rBOwPQ2FzqcsORjY4Tv0XrrPvXy-gh0FlmxsaRpwMsAO1STq6HSV22iK2wvImW3Y39XTEQCIucCka25z803ysS4NXW8TEKkqtc2U/s1600/DSC_0088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCjrwV5t19UuVlWIhHEfDtPJeWChYisfMc8R7kM-1rBOwPQ2FzqcsORjY4Tv0XrrPvXy-gh0FlmxsaRpwMsAO1STq6HSV22iK2wvImW3Y39XTEQCIucCka25z803ysS4NXW8TEKkqtc2U/s640/DSC_0088.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>An official retiree, playing the part in full color!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6G23BWeHiYkboumkYA1C1VFt4_blOchPw_pFFji0xSZIEocEPL87LGkgmIoRuZ60oVk0_02N25cP3U91UhqwXYN5HSM0jz7Cx4fqJZw1GE-q8r4xwU8kUXhgWdDqc5mcMUbcpm-DLnpY/s1600/DSC_0103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6G23BWeHiYkboumkYA1C1VFt4_blOchPw_pFFji0xSZIEocEPL87LGkgmIoRuZ60oVk0_02N25cP3U91UhqwXYN5HSM0jz7Cx4fqJZw1GE-q8r4xwU8kUXhgWdDqc5mcMUbcpm-DLnpY/s640/DSC_0103.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Father and son (Michael) load up the tunes</i>. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlmxRFmyGvE18lQe3imkc0jciUwLlu_sSC9M2FPURIKw9EqAY0SVSM32XuS9qL-yAD1BGHYA9U9G7my83HC_bCKTWKNBhbwERDZRq1tkw0XxvmaduWXHGaZIq5vwJ_Kgmfd05BfMwKDj0/s1600/DSC_0108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlmxRFmyGvE18lQe3imkc0jciUwLlu_sSC9M2FPURIKw9EqAY0SVSM32XuS9qL-yAD1BGHYA9U9G7my83HC_bCKTWKNBhbwERDZRq1tkw0XxvmaduWXHGaZIq5vwJ_Kgmfd05BfMwKDj0/s640/DSC_0108.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My little brothers and me (Michael, Peter John and Bridget) at Dad's retirement celebration.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaYF3fvPFuH7Hozeaaqoo4eP5kJAFf336oUenvN37B70nkKtC3rrqULb6ZBc80RKssPEJh1lU_r4z8pd4uj7HgRUgjsmH0UDBNF8wTGLBC-gsL216sOED60vScSg9eqTLOBZFEt6lFmg/s1600/DSC_0109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGaYF3fvPFuH7Hozeaaqoo4eP5kJAFf336oUenvN37B70nkKtC3rrqULb6ZBc80RKssPEJh1lU_r4z8pd4uj7HgRUgjsmH0UDBNF8wTGLBC-gsL216sOED60vScSg9eqTLOBZFEt6lFmg/s640/DSC_0109.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A happy retiree with his musically gifted sing-along-son, Michael</i></td></tr>
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<b>Many faithful friends turned out</b> to wish Dad a happy retirement, and the genuine expressions of love and admiration for his healing ways were touching. Wrapping up over 40 years in the practice of Obstetrics and Gynecology, chances are pretty high that even though Dad's retired, he won't stop hearing the frequent call outs: "<i>Hey, Dr. Pete! Remember me? You delivered me</i>!"BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-59838474916800792822013-10-04T18:13:00.003-07:002013-10-12T17:25:05.393-07:00Hosting Isabella {Day 3: Pike Place to the Narrows Bridge}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnApc42R2-Z8aVVWrmhlH-OVCwAORiDxfEe1IhmpWPFSM7Ko37zoPoqjmh83Pyp6pAXF7ptxByOfUFUri8qGigVpJgpNOl4xt5fVzseQx3lOthXOXI_6lCWYsZgfnwDckxJwHMaluIT28/s1600/DSCN9983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnApc42R2-Z8aVVWrmhlH-OVCwAORiDxfEe1IhmpWPFSM7Ko37zoPoqjmh83Pyp6pAXF7ptxByOfUFUri8qGigVpJgpNOl4xt5fVzseQx3lOthXOXI_6lCWYsZgfnwDckxJwHMaluIT28/s640/DSCN9983.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Seattle street performers with their disturbing doll</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Continued from <i><a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/10/hosting-isabella-day-2-snowy-peaks.html">Day 2: Snowy Peaks</a></i></span><br />
<br />
<b>Had the sky cleared,</b> Isabella's 1 day visit to Seattle would have been longer, and higher. But due to low and plenteous clouds, we nixed the Space Needle and spent a lunch hour together with Sean at the Pike Place Market. Delicious grilled salmon sandwiches on fresh baguettes were worth a heck of a wait, and the boys found gooey treats to wrap things up before we wandered back to our car.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfXUFXv1nrY2X4uIeVpMxcy2Vu576NcunE-A7m3ckAtwXHtZ7qOI0NLDn3icg62p8e0-YMBUsCtsYeSCDGCaLLuJZ2DY-Q8MMTynoM8XbvJaxW-A7uaxXuPvztzbhvofFjh2HwsfEX4M/s1600/DSCN9989+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfXUFXv1nrY2X4uIeVpMxcy2Vu576NcunE-A7m3ckAtwXHtZ7qOI0NLDn3icg62p8e0-YMBUsCtsYeSCDGCaLLuJZ2DY-Q8MMTynoM8XbvJaxW-A7uaxXuPvztzbhvofFjh2HwsfEX4M/s640/DSCN9989+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph, Tim, Isabella and Sean overlooking Seattle waterfront scene and sports stadiums.</i></td></tr>
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<b><b>From above the Viaduct</b>, a glimpse of the Seattle sky line and the Puget Sound beyond </b>gave Isabella incentive to plan another (longer) trip to the Emerald City someday.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzrcAnyn0692mz5Tl8cMltEWIrEiNnZGAL1lDkyNaRN_xB2Yxy78kfx-7uxqvoBXZliwQQgET_zk9T6_OY9tzaMCvzMn66OG9zSMNhGP8tps4mOhXdPyEvmtIt2eWxNbOTJ_gxzeyv4k/s1600/DSCN9990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzrcAnyn0692mz5Tl8cMltEWIrEiNnZGAL1lDkyNaRN_xB2Yxy78kfx-7uxqvoBXZliwQQgET_zk9T6_OY9tzaMCvzMn66OG9zSMNhGP8tps4mOhXdPyEvmtIt2eWxNbOTJ_gxzeyv4k/s640/DSCN9990.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bridget and Isabella (girls only this time)</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWDPZahl1RVglFnS6Ssemq5icxkX4r9frc_-ULXPLW8UvO2ctCr7hEnmTWPFnPgdveBkM-6PnlKVLf5EQyDVIXQRFjvW3osOJaXt7gGcPs4EoRBhsQuSmWYotkTE6Qn-mawtjOOG9mHc/s1600/DSCN9991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWDPZahl1RVglFnS6Ssemq5icxkX4r9frc_-ULXPLW8UvO2ctCr7hEnmTWPFnPgdveBkM-6PnlKVLf5EQyDVIXQRFjvW3osOJaXt7gGcPs4EoRBhsQuSmWYotkTE6Qn-mawtjOOG9mHc/s640/DSCN9991.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sean bought fresh donuts to take home to the family... Yay!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwMGqiQdlY36__7ee9lsAM14xnHBSNXBPcl08a6dtDb6-dAe_sKPJnFBW8lsQsZdOqK2-hr57n2yZUJ7bTeZYFt81AetYdOEFLsbG7iBxZwOUIxRwflu6kgHfSpOYvHr0ot1Mat_GupA/s1600/DSCN9993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZwMGqiQdlY36__7ee9lsAM14xnHBSNXBPcl08a6dtDb6-dAe_sKPJnFBW8lsQsZdOqK2-hr57n2yZUJ7bTeZYFt81AetYdOEFLsbG7iBxZwOUIxRwflu6kgHfSpOYvHr0ot1Mat_GupA/s640/DSCN9993.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A new item on my kitchen wish list!</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Caught filming for ESPN's 'Game Day' at Pike Place Market</i></td></tr>
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<b>Our adventure to points South continued</b>, through some unfriendly traffic in Fife and on through I5 Tacoma to Highway 16 and over the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. On this special day, the very last day of my dad's self employment as a GYN doctor, we headed to his office to be present as he locked up the practice and retreated victoriously into retirement. What a great way for Isabella to be a part of our family history, and to represent her family on my dad's big day!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlzjQ65UQtGDCBh5SEmNPvv5ge0zn1QYyUwLXVdbgRtoTiibwEo0_1P73uvXU6IQYA73DLN_Kb5BlVXcd9uyqvJnXMOKuSnbiEYYmWE6Cw-63l_L4RavmAvSmThTMXMtkUvQXkiXOMBA/s1600/DSCN9997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlzjQ65UQtGDCBh5SEmNPvv5ge0zn1QYyUwLXVdbgRtoTiibwEo0_1P73uvXU6IQYA73DLN_Kb5BlVXcd9uyqvJnXMOKuSnbiEYYmWE6Cw-63l_L4RavmAvSmThTMXMtkUvQXkiXOMBA/s640/DSCN9997.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Crossing the Tacoma Narrows Bridge</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6o9IHsPtckEb8Rr-k3KpkzLlIb2OB1utSS7PkTn50KMTXxqv_xsZnJvGZvqccbMvf5r0j0WnAjZ6AHzR0sUKlaGV5dMOfGc9J5fo5vnP7PFV5NudbwkWZR-cXlRigOjGmRUNK7alti7I/s1600/DSCN9996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6o9IHsPtckEb8Rr-k3KpkzLlIb2OB1utSS7PkTn50KMTXxqv_xsZnJvGZvqccbMvf5r0j0WnAjZ6AHzR0sUKlaGV5dMOfGc9J5fo5vnP7PFV5NudbwkWZR-cXlRigOjGmRUNK7alti7I/s640/DSCN9996.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>One old Narrows Bridge, one new Narrows Bridge</i></td></tr>
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<b><a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-storks-retirement-obgyn-career-wrap.html">The Stork's Retirement</a> </b>and <b><a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/10/hosting-isabella-day-4-puget-sound.html">Day 4</a></b> follows.<br />
<br />BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149773423105421214.post-77937694861746665552013-10-03T14:39:00.000-07:002013-10-05T20:25:06.819-07:00Hosting Isabella {Day 2: Snowy Peaks}<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqwcfdhG3gjYaUi1__GdZ2GNixUcD6YhewiuThyphenhyphenVT07djBreq8EmcQW89kwNW-7osVnNsVihpA4rC2XmOmiIqiEKF2Sd4mUq3VXJF8gsELwn63cLOkFXnN9QpW42B9ihLdIIgC7khoQAY/s1600/DSCN9949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqwcfdhG3gjYaUi1__GdZ2GNixUcD6YhewiuThyphenhyphenVT07djBreq8EmcQW89kwNW-7osVnNsVihpA4rC2XmOmiIqiEKF2Sd4mUq3VXJF8gsELwn63cLOkFXnN9QpW42B9ihLdIIgC7khoQAY/s640/DSCN9949.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph carefully improves his rock monument at Table Mountain </i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Continued from <i><b><a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/10/hosting-isabella-day-1-windy-waterfront.html">Day 1: Windy Waterfron</a><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null">t</a></b></i></span><br />
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<b>Trusting a favorable weather forecast</b>, we loaned Isabella a pair of hiking boots and ascended the Mount Baker Highway to its spectacular dead end at Artist Point, swarming with day visitors and the occasional renegade off leash hound. Our day hike to the peak of Table Mountain just barely qualified as a 'hike' given that the round trip total totaled 1.6 miles. But climbing the 420 feet to summit along the sheer cliffs at Joseph's pace did elevate our heart rates. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDj4fyFvz_A7eUK1VimrrDm6HNhPpGFaso1FZ7Sty4J536G95_BWsXZ-M0qqEmEaSjbWIoH8qy4QuNtLKXN7jHG6uhDelazTs4dJMATgVlUWhT8fREwhhRgw5YpyIazxJ4A2L7_thL_0/s1600/DSCN9955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnDj4fyFvz_A7eUK1VimrrDm6HNhPpGFaso1FZ7Sty4J536G95_BWsXZ-M0qqEmEaSjbWIoH8qy4QuNtLKXN7jHG6uhDelazTs4dJMATgVlUWhT8fREwhhRgw5YpyIazxJ4A2L7_thL_0/s640/DSCN9955.JPG" width="480" /></a></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Monumental collapse</i></td></tr>
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<b>"I was trying to creep her out!" </b>Joseph admitted, confirming my suspicions as to what had inspired him to blurt, "I sure hope the volcano doesn't explode today!" as we paused on one of the switchbacks. In fact, Isabella had not realized we were hiking on a volcano, but since Joseph <i>so delicately brought it to her attention</i>, we were able to share a bit of local geography knowledge with our Australian guest.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPMdxwPixKqG9fbIe7iCR1Ix_ahzJ1iCr3aqMRgoguZeknHIGNCWRCbCFrQA8z3Eqqgm8b2H4dza_VUNdgTQcMxjPWPq3UZfTkwXDBsMFqpODaXh60q5y7ZpZ0A5cVc8YE1kX7HoLM3g/s1600/DSCN9960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPMdxwPixKqG9fbIe7iCR1Ix_ahzJ1iCr3aqMRgoguZeknHIGNCWRCbCFrQA8z3Eqqgm8b2H4dza_VUNdgTQcMxjPWPq3UZfTkwXDBsMFqpODaXh60q5y7ZpZ0A5cVc8YE1kX7HoLM3g/s640/DSCN9960.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A final force</i></td></tr>
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<b>The actual explosions</b> <b>we witnessed</b> were not volcanic, but rather the result of an attempted 'tall-as-me' tower construction project on the peak by Joseph. Tempted by piles of rocks on Table Mountain, Joseph set to work balancing stacks and nearly reached his height. But a slight builder's tremor caused the creation to come tumbling down with a forceful detonation, thoroughly impressing a group of 5th grade boys from Ferndale whose school group had just reached the peak. Several of them immediately set to work building their own towers amidst the rocky landing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEoiYxoMDXfyUfohOZahN1eGuW-EJhIM312HyWpggPNgxm8-9wPXAuykalbpiEJc0QcoiKLnr7IQ-H8VYpDV1wpmLGcPjAuU7zqRlLT5QnnLOMl9IXjQsOR6dco4iBjB_hrR9V0GAmmr8/s1600/DSCN9963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEoiYxoMDXfyUfohOZahN1eGuW-EJhIM312HyWpggPNgxm8-9wPXAuykalbpiEJc0QcoiKLnr7IQ-H8VYpDV1wpmLGcPjAuU7zqRlLT5QnnLOMl9IXjQsOR6dco4iBjB_hrR9V0GAmmr8/s640/DSCN9963.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph, Bridget, Isabella and a summit cloud concealing Mount Baker's peak</i></td></tr>
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<b>Our quick trek back down to the parking area</b> offered a few final peeks at the almost visible tip of Mount Baker, but the pesky summit clouds kept the full stature of the mountain veiled. We could hardly complain, though, as the clouds only added to the dramatic backdrop of our midday mountain adventure. <br />
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<a href="http://glimpseofpeace.blogspot.com/2013/10/hosting-isabella-day-3-pike-place-to.html"><b>Day 3</b></a> follows.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx9Rh9L4Z0Pu6ndCJNl_rImAPdDyrdtn2JqCGdpj3PBBNdhek9lm9MLmCGGF3npSZ2Lvn0eyhIGNhPb7UvGk4QhHvs3EcZ7GfQKL_sZyWepsUD6o2ALU2DcD_-6jC_CcIt8PigOWmvz1o/s1600/DSCN9929.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx9Rh9L4Z0Pu6ndCJNl_rImAPdDyrdtn2JqCGdpj3PBBNdhek9lm9MLmCGGF3npSZ2Lvn0eyhIGNhPb7UvGk4QhHvs3EcZ7GfQKL_sZyWepsUD6o2ALU2DcD_-6jC_CcIt8PigOWmvz1o/s640/DSCN9929.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph at 5,520 feet, Mount Shuksan beyond</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFG0Hjz4RDprYEaiNdFctMJMcUUreEzCNDtu3DN4ejt1R9-5fKxr-tYSe0dK6NFMzG_A-PWZw0nw8H823WmDxfuLGmcB90Tb1Ie3N7ldl_duUxj0UI6Ph2IXkjM3GEB2iZbflv4xCKHWk/s1600/DSCN9915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFG0Hjz4RDprYEaiNdFctMJMcUUreEzCNDtu3DN4ejt1R9-5fKxr-tYSe0dK6NFMzG_A-PWZw0nw8H823WmDxfuLGmcB90Tb1Ie3N7ldl_duUxj0UI6Ph2IXkjM3GEB2iZbflv4xCKHWk/s640/DSCN9915.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bridget and Joseph on Table Mountain</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmWkxGWvibV90lL-qBXOozWXs2yanZ2pIJQYtWshN6Hb6NrQoLSKazEnDxSwv0o62DnGAZOcbdY79OH_9qKae8pydUAdp8MmJmCXuzETnwSSYbtUCviujpMfCpt53dgg4XPUs_4wLYoQ/s1600/IMG_20131003_133839_803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmWkxGWvibV90lL-qBXOozWXs2yanZ2pIJQYtWshN6Hb6NrQoLSKazEnDxSwv0o62DnGAZOcbdY79OH_9qKae8pydUAdp8MmJmCXuzETnwSSYbtUCviujpMfCpt53dgg4XPUs_4wLYoQ/s640/IMG_20131003_133839_803.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Joseph's first trip up Table Mountain </i><i><i>(age 5 mos)</i> ~ a sleepy passenger on Tim's back</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>me and the mountains plus clouds</i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></td></tr>
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BRIDGEThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15535242094051545299noreply@blogger.com2