No one home but the birds

While in NM, my boss took several of us over to a chapel named Sanctuario de Chimayo. It is supposed to be the "Lourdes" of the Southwest, with people from all over visiting in hopes of physical healing for their ailments. There is a room filled with walking canes, orthopedic devices, testimonials, etc., left by the healed. I looked in the window, and it's all there. But no people were there on Tuesday evening. Only the pigeons were hanging out. Maybe it's better that way since we would have been curious onlookers intruding in the rituals of the ardent believers.

Great place for a meeting

Yeah, it has been a while since I updtaed this thing. The weekend was really busy as I got ready to leave town. Sunday through Wednesday I was gone to a meeting (actually a series of meetings). The acaademic and administrative leaders of our univeristy campuses (about twenty-five in all) all came together in Glorieta NM (not far from Santa Fe). The weather was wonderful. Maybe this photo doesn't do a whole lot for those of you who live up north, but for those of us who live in West Texas, this kind of stuff is magical. The trees were beginning to turn, the ducks were squawking for snacks, and there was a chill in the air. Very refreshing. And the meetings went very well also. There have been times in the past that the atmosphere was acrid with antagonism, but the Glorieta meeting was really productive and harmonious. Maybe it was the Mexican food.

Remembering Sydney

One evening in Sydney we went down to the bay and looked across at the sights. Downtown Sydney, all lit up, is quite beautiful. This is the opera house, of course. It has now been a month since we were in Australia and it seems like a year. What is a memory, after all? Several neurons agreeing to link up like they did once before? How do the cells contain memories? Time is a river flowing by, always moving, irretrievably gone. OK, that's enough philosophic pondering. Cat and I went to the fair last Saturday. We enjoy seeing the flower arrangements, the produce (biggest pumpkin was 203 pounds), art exhibits, and the animals. Only, going through the swine barn, I stepped on something squishy. Even though I have scrubbed the sole of my shoe, the smell still lingers. That's a memory that won't go away. I will try to have an audioblog posted on Saturday.

Something from Arthur Miller

Whew, this last week has been very full. At church we have been in the middle of a missions emphasis and I am the chair of the missions committee. I have had something to do in the worship service for the last three weeks (and today I had to run the slides that get projected onto the two big screens at the front). So I have been busy.

But I got double-dog-dared to do another particular audioblog, and I just couldn't refuse. Here is the setup for this clip. The character I am playing is a 90-year-old Russian Jew, an antiques dealer, who has come to an apartment to bid on some furniture. When he gets there, he discovers it is a LOT of furniture and that is troublesome for him. The fellow trying to sell the furniture accuses the old man of jerking his chain. Here is the old man's reply.

A little bit of drama

Some time ago I was in a play called "The Young Man from Atlanta" by Horton Foote. The lead character, Will Kidder, is a Houstonian in his mid-60s who is about to be fired from the company he has worked for all his life. The young boss will claim that they have to downsize. To compound the pain, Will's son Bill has recently drowned. In the following speech, Will is rattling off his views to his younger associate (who will wind up taking his place in the company). Hope you enjoy the accent.

There's just no call for this except it's interesting

Well, it is interesting to me. The other day when I was looking up "puggle" in my dictionary (just to make sure it was not readily available to all you guessers), I saw some other words that were interesting. Imagine that! (I love dictionaries.) There was the word puisne [pyoos-nee] which comes directly from French puisné [pwee-ney]. It literally means "born later" and refers to a younger sibling. But what amused me was, following a hunch, I discovered that the word "puny" comes from this term. I think that's what I will start calling my younger brother. You can try it, too, Rachel.

Here's a puny looking critter, especially considering his reputation. This, my friends, is a Tasmanian devil. Taking a nap, evidently. He wouldn't even give us a snarl. So much for Taz.