Twelfth Man flag on building in the distance.

I’m at the hospital but it is just my routine every other week chemo treatment. Yea, and Steve my good buddy is supposed to show up to spend some time with me a little later. So, I am going to work on this before he arrives.

A little lingering issue needs to be taken care of. My Rebecca says that I was a little disingenuous a few blogs ago when I mentioned something about falling asleep while trying to watch Downton Abbey. I think that she was talking about the idea of trying as in not trying very hard. Well yes, I really watch it for the woodwork and also it used to be way more interesting when there were great horses and carriages before the age of automobiles. I’m just not into the melodrama of it all I guess.

OK, that taken care of, the excitment is building here in Seattle with the Super Bowl coming up this Sunday. Our Seahawks are going to kick the snot out of The Patriots, my personal prediction. And I picked up some supplies for our party at Trader Joe’s today. Spanish wine and cheese and some Greek and French olives (couldn’t find any Spanish). Yea, championship football meets the Camino. What could be better?

Just one more football related item and I will shut up for a few more days. This is the phenomenon of the twelfth man. At any giving time a football team will have eleven players on the field. Seattle has this deal where we have twelve only that player is the loud fan in the stands. We are known for all the noise that we make while the opposing team has their offensive team fielded. It just screws them up because it is so distracting. So, now you know because you will maybe hear about it if you watch the game and are unfamiliar with some of the details. So, I took two pics of twelfth man flags for you, one close up and one far away.

So what does this have to do with the Camino anyway? Well, not a whole lot but spending time on the trail in Spain meant getting involved with various bull runs and holy day processions along the way. So this is like that in that if you are anywhere within a five hundred mile radius of Seattle you will get sucked up in Seahawks fever. You will see blue flags with a white 12 on them everywhere. Everybody and their brother wants you to know that they are the real twelfth man.

So, that about it for now. Steve’s going to show up and we will be smokin and jokin and getting rowdy and that is not conductive to the serious literary endeavor of bloging. Yes. So go Hawks, love you offensively, Felipe.

Monday, and we have a big day today. Mam Jones is back from South Africa and coming to visit and I definitely want to give you a report on her message. And today is the day that the beloved tractor will start. I have to walk in a few minutes so I need to gear up and get some laps in, so must leave for now. But you are always ready and available for my thoughts to contemplate and so you are never far.

Here I am and it is late and the blog is not finished but my Rebecca insists that it gets done before sleep. OK. Well, there is good news and bad news. The bad news is that the tractor didn’t start yet but the good news is that Mam Jones did make it. Let’s talk about Mam Jones.

She is a young woman that is a friend of our son’s from college here at Western Washington University. She has spent the last year and half in South Africa with the Peace Corps. Her tour was supposed to be two years but she had to pull out early because of safety concerns. We were following her closely there and supporting her efforts. Her job was to act as a school teacher there in a government school. The situation was extremely bare bones and one of the problems was that there were little supplies and books.

We shipped numerous boxes to her and talked friends into it also. In the boxes were art supplies, sports equipment and books. Mam Jones started a lending library for the kids which was extremely popular. She also was teaching violin to some of the students. She had all kinds of things going that really inspired us to help. But she finally had to leave early because of safety concerns. But she left a mark on those young people and that is what is important.

As I walked on the Camino I thought about this very issue and I came to the conclusion that in life one must do what one can, as well as one can, for as long as one can. Having ultimate success is not always there but that is not as important as the striving regardless of outcome. This is what Mam Jones did and that is her message to us today. Ah, and I must add, a little late maybe, that is what the students called her, “Mam Jones”, like Ms Jones.

And here is an email that Annie O’Neil sent to me this AM and it is too good not to pass along:

Life is truly
Deeply
Exquisitely
Beautifully
Fundamentally
Rock Bottomly
Good!

Peace-
A

So my life is full of these extremely positive people these days and I am going to keep it that way because it is the only way. Peace – Felipe.

Ah, my WiFi is back working again. Time to be with you and catch up. First I just slept through Downton Abbey, no huge loss as they will be showing them over from now to eternity. But have to report on some major culture that I was in on last evening. My Rebecca and I were invited to The Robert Burns Dinner here on our fair isle. What is that you might ask and I was in the same boat myself.

But it so happens that old Rabbie Burns is the national poet of Scotland and his dates are 1759 – 1796. So every year hither and yon his birthday is celebrated by crazy Scotsmen doing things Scottish that roughly revolves around his memory. Some of it is just plain fun and drink. This is the first one that either of us has ever attended although it is coined the best party of the year on Vashon by some.

So add that one to your bucket list. I understood two words all evening as everyone, not me, was maxing out there brogue, I think is the right term. But you don’t have to understand it to grasp its power and grandure which is the charm of it all.

That was last night and then today was beeeautiful weatherwise and everyone was outside enjoying that. Three folks came and walked with me which was great. And I had one of my archery students come for some shooting. And the days are noticeably longer allowing me more time to get more greasy working on the old 1956 Ford tractor. It’s all fun and part of shaking off winter.

Well, so glad that my WeeFee is up again as I get grouchy when I can’t blog. So, I have to tell you about a little project that I have going that I will need help on from some of you. This is something that goes back to my high school days in Buffalo, New York. That is only important in that Buffalo lies in the Northern Hemisphere. I can clearly remember my Earth Science teacher Mr. Kelsey drawing diagrams explaining how in the Northern Hemisphere water goes down the drain one way and in the Southern Hemishere it goes down the other way as one in clockwise and the other counter clockwise.

So yesterday I checked in with any old friend in Buffalo that currently does teach Earth Science and she says it’s bogus. That the design of the fixture dictates the direction. And I can see that to a certain extent but what about a simple pool of water over a simple drain in the bottom of a sink? Nothing is forcing it one way or the other when you pull the plug, so which way will it go?

So in the interest of science I would like you guys to report in with one observation of three different sinks in your locale and we will keep track. OK, I want Sydney and Cairo and London and etc reporting as in hither and yon. Just put it in the comments. This will be fun and above all educational. Who will be right Ms. Laurie or old Mr. Kelsey?

So a report by you should should be simple and straight forward so we can put them all together in a final overall report. And that would look like:

Robert Burns from Edinburgh, Scotland on February 1, 2015.
Sink one – counterclockwise.
Sink two – same.
Sink three – same.

Well, that’s all the fun I can handle for the moment, time to get some shut eye. Off to Monday, love, Felipe.

Here are seven small lavender plants that I got in the ground along Phil’s Camino. Thank you my Rebecca for buying them for me.

Yea flora, as in plants. It was 52 degrees F this morning as the sun is coming up. That very warm for January and it is the result of the weather pattern known as El Nino. The ocean currents coming from the west set up in certain ways and they set up weather patterns that effect us here along the coast. So, even though I whine about our winter, this one has been almost a non winter.

OK, three times I have lost the rest of this post. I am really loosing my touch and perhaps you didn’t have time to read it anyway. So I will try and add the pics and call it good. Calling it good loves, Felipe.

(for the life of me I can’t seem to place the pics on this post, sorry)

A few days ago I sent this message to our Cherry: Hey Cherry ~ haven’t heard from you. Thinking of you, wherever you are. Need some Cherry energy. Write a few words, love, Phil.

So, today I am feeling all wintered out and ready to write a post about Spanish toothpicks, which will happen soon. Maybe not the most exciting of starting points but I was going to see what I could do with it. Anyway, when who shows up on my e-doorstep but Cherry of the Southern Hemisphere. Complete with pic with palm tree in the middle distance. Just when I am feeling so wintered out I get suntanned Cherry with a palm tree. See how it works! Love you Cherry.

Enough of me, here she is:
It’s great that Phil has welcomed me back even if I’ve not been the most reliable lately. I’ve been spending the last 4 weeks with my family and friends at home in Australia. I have mixed feelings still about being home. Thankfully it is only temporary as I’m off to Indonesia tomorrow morning for my final month of my travels. It’s a hard life.

Actually life has been a little hard lately. They say when you travel for long periods of time with a partner that it’ll either make or break. Sadly for us after nearly 5 years, it was break. I’ve been feeling rather empty. And then I stumbled on these wise words that I wrote 10 years ago which gave me some hope and a smile.

“Life has this strange way of working out right but not in the way you think it should. Life has a strange way of giving you what you ask for but not in the way you think you’re going to get it. Life has a strange way of making you suffer undeservingly but yet rewards you with unbelievable gain. Would you willingly put yourself through worse, with the possibility of unbelievable rewards? Of course I would but I’m a risk taker and I know full well that the only way to achieve the best is to suffer undeservingly at times.”

Peace and love from Cherry the newly Single Lady.

That’s the name of the book I am reading currently. Jim at American Pilgrims turned me on to it. It is about bull “fighting”and “running”. It is a beautiful book full of history and artistry. I’m learning a lot about Spain from exploring this national sport. I have to back up a little since there is a lot wrong here all of a sudden.

Bull fighting is the way we express this in English but in Spanish the word isn’t fighting but we have no equalivalent. It is more like being in rhythm with the power of the bull. And sport really doesn’t do it justice either. And this activity also occurs in parts of France. Our troubles with language parallels our stereotype way of thinking about bull fighting which really needs straightening out.

I can remember watching it on TV as a kid in the early sixties before we were taught that it was something barbaric by who knows who. It was before color TV too and that would have made it even richer. I was fascinated by the whole thing and somehow that early interest plays into my current armchair enthusiasm.

So the full name of the book is “Fiesta: How to Survive the Bulls of Pamplona”. Which brings up the whole activity of running with the bulls which Pamplona is famous for. This is an ancient deal that goes along with “fighting”. It is supposed to be the act of herding the animals and moving them with respect to next part of the pageant. It is not supposed to be some hair brained sucidal deal although runners do get injured and occasionally killed. It is a way for the average guy to be an active part of the whole thing.

So, Pamplona has the most famous run although each city that has a fight has a run but each is different. Estrella where I participated is no different and the book filled me in on something interesting. And that is the bulls of Estrella may not be bulls at all but horned females, at least when the book was published and that was a while ago. Maybe it was some sort of Spanish Junior Varsity Bull Run that I got my feet wet in. Nobody told me at the time and I was too focused on those horns and not getting trampled by moving bodies to have time to check for other things. And I was probably above my pay grade there even but I survived. There is a saying that God watches out for Marines and fools, take your pick.

Untrampled love, Felipe.

Finally got to Skype with Angela! She is looking good with long hair and her ever present wonderful smile. It’s a little shock to see us cleaned up after we got used to each other with our pilgrim patina on the Camino. Makeup and winter coats throw me off, but I digress. One more digression is that it is summer and bright there south of the equator. Yea, summer. Yea, Angela.

The best thing about Skype is seeing a friend in their environs. And the best thing about Ange’s scene was her Christmas tree still being up. She said that it will probably stay up for a few months. Haha. Why mess with a good thing, right?

So, before going to the Camino to be with us she had quit her job for a newspaper thinking she needed a change. So, now she is in job hunting mode. She looks confident and motivated. That’s the Camino spirit. So we wish her luck with that and I will put a stone on my pile for her to have that thought there. May the Universe conspire for her benefit.

We talked about our film guys Todd, Jessica and Rebecca. She asked about the documentary and how that is coming. It’s a’comin. We talked about Mary Margaret’s visit to our island and the possible appearance of Sheriff here in March. She asked about Kelly and I gave her the Kelly report. We gossiped about all of you but with much love and longing as only pilgrims can do.

She had a little map of the States and I was giving here a geography lesson. Chicago is in that yellow state, LA is there and Seattle is way up there in the corner. And Seattle is in Washinton State which is different than Washington DC. That is a big one I have found with friends outside America is the confusion between the two Washingtons. Well, that is an easy one to straighten out now as the Seattle (Washington State) Seahawks are going to the Super Bowl and the Washington (DC, stands for District of Columbia) Redskins are not. Yea!

Well, I want to wrap this up by saying that I personally want to have the ability to work together like the film crew, be energetic as Mary Margaret, as serving as Sheriff, as caring as Kelly and as brave as Angela. That’s my wish today. Thanks guys for sharing the trail with me and teaching me along the way by just being you.

OK, it’s finally light out and it is a very mysterious looking foggy morning here on the island. Have to get this blog done so I can make spaghetti sauce, recycle our paper and bottles, rebuild the carburetor on the old tractor and run to town for a baguette. A little bit of everything happening today here on Vashon Island. Hope your day goes well, love you, Felipe.

I’m thinking that yesterday’s post was one of my better ones. Every once in a while everything comes together for me, for us. Annie emailed this AM that she had just read it and she had been contemplating the same notion. The notion of getting in step with God,is how I am expressing it this AM.

This is great that I have Annie on my mind now with this notion all swirling around. One of the things that I get from Annie is that our connection with God is not just something rare and only for great historical figures of the past. It is in the here and now and closer than we are conditioned to thinking. I can’t find her exact words but I am doing OK. It is the point, I think, that we are the limiting factor not God. We somehow make things harder than they need to be.

So, integrating the Camino into our lives or maybe better, integrating our lives into the Camino is this same process. How do we keep step with God and our fellow man in our everydayness? How do we integrate all the important things? How do we keep walking in the right direction when there are no yellow arrows?

God recognizes us each as totally unique and perhaps we all reach out to God in our own totally unique way. We need to know ourselves and find our way. We need to ask for help to be able to be there for God and our fellow man.

Wow, pretty lofty conversation today but touching the Camino is touching this stuff and the reason it remains so powerful. Power on, love, Felipe.

I was going out the door this morning to walk and my Rebecca said, “Buen Camino!” to me. And as I walked I was thinking about that and how my perception of that phrase as changed and grown. I remember the first few days of the walk in Spain and we said that to each other. But we said it, or at least I said it, with no inkling of what it meant or what it was going to mean.

It felt good to say it because finally after so much preparation I was finally on the trail and actuallay doing it, finally I a real pilgrim. And all the people around me were real pilgrims. Like we are so cool. “Buen Camino!” “Buen Camino Dude!”

Then at some point in the first week after everyone had equal opportunity to develop their own unique pilgrim walk and the reality of the situation really got to dwell in us we could say it again with a certain defiance. “Yea, Buen Camino!” “Buen, we are still frickin here, Camino!” The Camino was still there and we also were still there and that was the way we were going to keep it. We were staying.

Then at Santiago it was all good and the “Buen Camino” meant something like a congratulations. Yes, my stigmata and I arrived unscathed. Thank you St. James. “Buen Camino, yes!” Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could have left it at that.

But then what? The darn grim reentry, which is real and undeniable, is what’s next. Just when you thought the world was all roses and tapas it’s reentrytime. Just when life is beautifully painfully sweet, it’s what to do with realitytime, whatever that is? The celebratory high five “Buen Camino” becomes softer and softer till it’s almost crowded out by facts and figures and details. It becomes just a wee little flame like a tattered snapshot.

And for months, collectively, we have been guarding that little flame and keeping it safe and coaxing it along. Haven’t we? Trying to integrate it with our life or trying to integrate our life with it is always going on it seems. That darn little flame is truly such a bother. But then this morning when my Rebecca said a simple clear alperfect, “Buen Camino!” as I had my winter clothes on and my walking sticks in hand, on my way out the door to walk my Camino, it all seemed so nicely integrated. The before, the during, the after and the now seemed one for the first time. Ah! Can I keep it? I can do this.

We can do this, immense loves, Felipe.