fcphoto

I've been away for awhile and am just getting back to my Blog now.
Funny how life gets in the way of the things you enjoy sometimes, or maybe not so funny.
I have been finding my way back and forth from Mexico to Canada for the past couple of years with life's stresses changing my desired path but, when one road seems blocked another always presents itself and amazingly enough it often turns out it is where you were meant to be in the first place.

Here is to life's road blocks!

What Is Pangea Day?
Pangea Day taps the power of film to strengthen tolerance and compassion while uniting millions of people to build a better future.

In a world where people are often divided by borders, difference, and conflict, it's easy to lose sight of what we all have in common. Pangea Day seeks to overcome that - to help people see themselves in others - through the power of film.

On May 10, 2008 - Pangea Day - sites in Cairo, Dharamsala, Kigali, London, New York City, Ramallah, Rio de Janeiro, and Tel Aviv will be videoconferenced live to produce a program of powerful films, visionary speakers, and uplifting music.

The program will be broadcast live to the world through the Internet, television, digital cinemas, and mobile phones.

Of course, movies alone can't change the world. But the people who watch them can. So following May 10, 2008, Pangea Day organizers will facilitate community-building activities around the world by connecting inspired viewers with numerous organizations which are already doing groundbreaking work.

I finally have my photo website up and running. To view it just go to the right of this page under links and click fcphoto.

Let me know what you think.

Bye for now

front sitting area


living area


kitchen


master bedroom


our view in the mornings


newest member of the family
Quila short for Tequila

This is an ancient festivity that has been transformed through the years, the best way to describe this Mexican holiday is to say that it is a time when Mexican families remember their dead, and the continuity of life.

The original celebration can be traced to many Mesoamerican native traditions, such as the festivities held during the Aztec month of Miccailhuitontli, ritually presided by the "Lady of the Dead", and dedicated to children and the dead. In the Aztec calendar, this ritual fell roughly at the end of the Gregorian month of July and the beginning of August, but in the postconquest era it was moved by Spanish priests so that it coincided with the Christian holiday of All Hallows Eve (in Spanish: "Día de Todos Santos.") This was a vain effort to transform the observance from a profane to a Christian celebration. The result is that Mexicans now celebrate the day of the dead during the first two days of November, rather than at the beginning of summer. But remember the dead they still do.



The celebrations in San Blas and area are small in comparison to other areas of Mexico. Generalizing broadly, the holiday's activities consist of families welcoming their dead back into their homes, and visiting the graves of their close relatives. November 1 is dedicated to the children, and November 2 is for all those family members who have passed away. It is not a morbid occasion, but rather a festive time. The families come to the graves of their loved ones sweep away any debris and decorate, the graves explode with color, they bring lawn chairs and picnic lunches sitting in the graveyard visiting laughing and, in essence, catching their loved ones up on the year past. It’s a beautiful, loving tradition that honors not tries to forget their dead.

Some however stare up at you, some with a small glimmer of someone's life once celebrated



then there was a childs grave, abandoned, no one decorated or came to celebrate, I wonder if it is just to painful.

The Hounds of the Morrigan.

In the dark of deepest conscience caverns where secret self retreats to hide,
far from the world's accusing vision when sleep's sweet kiss has been denied
Morrigan, avenging huntress, three Grimhounds straining at the leash,
stalks catacombs of paranoia for those who never can find peace.
When hunter's moon at the hour of waking outshines the light of morning sun
the king of darkness in bleak triumph opens the gates of Avalon
to free the hunter from confines of dreams so her hounds may scent the afeared
and chase and hunt down shrinking shadows of those who dare not face their wyrd.

Minutes, seconds stepping by so slowly deny the sanctuary of dawn light
while the hounds; envy, ill - will, resentment gnaw at the mind corrupt with spite.
Morrigan delivers retribution on one who can forgive no wrong:
carry a grudge into the dark days, the Grimhounds will pursue beyond.
Find grace in forgiving on Samhain night or be haunted by the silent sounds
that will track you through the coming year.
The Morrigan and her Hell Hounds.

Hope everyone had a Haunting Hallows Eve

Marcel and I took possesion of this view today.

Why do people skydive, bungee jump or for that matter work in professions such as firefighters, police and ahhh yes, the military?? The thrill? Cheating death? I believe that when it is your time to die, you die, I don’t think I could be in Iraq if I didn’t, and yet … we wear Kevlar, helmets, ride around in armored vehicles, so do I really believe that we have no control over our fate?
We sat in a convoy for the second time this week, why you ask?? Well we are in the middle of badging hell!! This translates into us having to drive back and forth to Camp Victory more than I want, trying to get our identification straightened out. It’s true that as long as we are inside the walls of the base, we are relatively safe, (although that’s hard not to question when, like today, my body shook repeatedly from the force of 5 mortars exploding inside the walls) but as soon as we drive outside the confines of the base, I feel like a tin duck in a carnival shooting gallery. While we were sitting in the convoy waiting to get underway, I noticed the bullet holes in the vehicles around me, then I heard Marcel and a couple soldiers joking about how our vehicle hadn’t been broken in yet, ‘no bullet holes’. Ever since the Marine was killed by a snipers bullet to the head, it’s all I can think of as we drive, I’m constantly adjusting my helmet, pulling it down to cover my eyes then I think the back of my head is exposed so I pull it back, I shift it to the side facing the highway and then think what if it comes from the other direction and as a last resort sink into my seat trying to cover as much of my throat and chin as I can while pulling my helmet down over my eyes. Marcel and I casually discuss how a bullet between the eyes or driving over an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) would be a good way to die, quick, before you knew what hit you. I said, “ It’s weird thinking that we could be talking and it could be over, watch out there is something on the highway” we swerve to miss an object on the road. I watch the hum-Vs that follow all swerve to miss the same object. What’s even more bizarre is this conversation actually took place. I’ve never had anyone want to kill me before, well OK, maybe one or two people, but I don’t think they were really serious. On the way home Marcel and I noticed a fresh hole in the asphalt, the same road we had traveled only hours earlier. We finally pull into Abu Ghraib, off come the helmets and we both smile and jokingly laugh that we made it back in one piece, but it’s nerves, we are both very aware we might not have.



My boys will be on their way soon to work with Marcel, I wonder if I’m a terrible parent. They're all adults now and have made their own choice to come, but we didn’t have to hire them. I know they’ll be fine ... that’s not true, we never know if the ones we love will be fine we just have faith they will. The Wife and Mom in me says I should have said no, but the realist in me knows it wouldn't make a difference.