It’s a bright morning, haven’t looked at the weather forecast. Wiley rolling down the driveway to work. Maybe even tiny patches of blue sky overheard.

I have no idea what I am going to write about today, things could go in a couple of directions. But they are going for sure, and all good, well mostly. Things are swelling up like a spring bud for the Austin Adventure coming up, the premier of Phil’s Freakin Camino. I even hear through the Camino grapevine that President Obama and the First Lady will be in the neighborhood. They know a good thing. So, we will keep you posted with up to date reporting on the AA.

On Sunday afternoon, on my way home from the retreat, I was driving down the road with an intersection coming up. Just before the intersection was a sign pounded in the shoulder of the road informing everyone of an important bit of info or maybe two bits. There was the word “WINE”, and check this out, on the same sign was an arrow pointing left and an arrow pointing right. It was like the classic Camino deal where you can’t possibly go wrong, there will be something of value either way. The perfect crossroad dilemma!

Fortunately I drove on. It was way too early in the day for that. And I had been up two nights participating in various snoring contests to be in my right mind so I went straight but I was intrigued. Road trips are fun especially on Blue Highways (smaller than red highways which are smaller than the Interstates).

OK, I need to get my day off started. Thursday I am in between hospital visits. I’ll up at Our Jennifer’s pushing the bathroom project further down the road mostly. And walking at 0900 beforehand.

Well, good luck with your projects today. OK, let’s review, you guys are all peaches, love, Felipe.

Well, it’s a goal. Traveling down the road that is life we pack some provisions, paying some attention to food groups, quantities, weight. Bringing along a little extra for someone we may meet. Having some sense of the balance between order and disorder, plan and chance.

I brought some chicken salad, a baguette and gummy bears for lunch here at the hospital. It’s my treatment day. Also just had a pow wow with my doc about my scan that happened yesterday. And that was good news! My tumors show no growth. My doc is doing a great job. No growth means that we can continue as we have been with treatment and life. Yes, good news!

Jennifer is here to go to appointments and to keep me on track. But she is not here right now. I’m doing the chemo with a pair of earplugs in, striving for a little quiet to allow me to gather my thoughts and write to you.

I have asked for earplugs often enough that someone finally ordered some for the supplies here. And I usually have a pair in my pack but not today. But that’s not the point really. Asking for the earplugs today started a conversation with my nurse Matt about the day at the hospital that the power went out. And the conversation sort of spread down to the nurse’s station.

Yes, people remembered it for sure. It was memorable in that it turned the usual hustle and bustle of the area into a quiet restful place. The nurses were about their work in a space that seemed to have gone back in time. The emergency lighting was on which was about 10% of the normal amount. The chemo machines were not capable of making any of their normal vocabulary of warning signals. The nurse’s computers were limited to the immediate tasks and the nurses were free to actually spend time with the patients. It was such a wonderful, restive and memorable time.

We always talk about Our Dana as being the Secretary of Ambience. The hospital could here paid her tens of thousands of dollars to come up with a scheme like that. So Matt and I are going to work on this in our spare time, make some recommendations to the board.

So yea, help us celebrate what is. I am going to take a little nap here in the comfy chair. The best to you, love, Felipe.

“It is sad to live in a country so divided, when each of its people woke up under the same sunshine that I did.” Josh, my friend, the fisherman, the fisherman poet.

Josh ~ you expressing that so elegantly points to the care inside you and the care that you are putting out for us to see and to ponder and hopefully put to use.

Josh wrote that on a FaceBook post a couple of days ago. I was so taken to see it there amoung so much FB craziness, my own included. It was there so short and sweet like a perfect heart rock on the perfect randomness of the beach. Thank you Josh.

If I could, I would like to comment on your concern. One of the roles that I see older folks, as in me, playing is the guy that says don’t panic we have been here before. And not only before once or twice but many times. I have seen it with my own eyes and I need to say that it will be OK, steady on your course and don’t get disturbed or disrupted by the political weather at the moment.

We are early in the election process when the craziest of ideas of both parties are talked about with straight faces and put out to see what we think. As monthes go by both parties inevitably move towards the center of the political spectrum to capture those voters in the center that they both need if they are to win. So, all the rancor that is apparent right now is a result of this dynamic. And so at a certain point both parties will be trying to buy our affections with chocolates and flowers.

In other words the water is choppy right now. But we have been having orderly elections for over two hundred years now and I don’t see any reason for this one to be any different. My own take is that it would be helpful if we treated those who think differently than ourselves, when these political contests get everything all heated up, as opponents and not enemies. Save the enemy thing for when we really need it which is fortunately not very often.

I really love it to hang out with the fishermen. They are akin to ranchers, farmers and loggers who are close to the natural resources, the natural world. close to dirt, sweat and real life concerns. So much of our thinking these days seems to come from the big city of CEO’s, lawyers, Indian chiefs and entertainment personalities.

Josh, study up on Harry Truman, the president when I was learning to crawl. He was a no BS guy, just Harry, refreshing.

Have to go, love you all of both parties, Felipe.

Just in from my Monday AM walk. Nice morning here, partial cloudy, dry, no wind. Long ago I stopped writing in my log the comment “Alone”, as in I am walking alone this morning, as in no other pilgrims. I am never alone and now when I am the only one walking I write “not alone”. Hope that makes some sense.

I heard the first hummingbird along Phil’s Camino this morning. He buzzed me and I didn’t see him, just heard him, the wing beat. They are attracted to red and I had my old standby red Camino cap on, although the sun has bleached it so. There are some Anna’s hummingbirds that winter over. Our Jennifer’s got them all over her house because of the feeders that she has out. But we don’t feed them so they start being here when things are blooming. Spring gang!

So I’m back from the retreat and it was a busy one. Like I’m home listening to hummingbirds so I can relax after the retreat, right? I’m retreating from the retreat. Now I see Island Wood, the retreat facitlity, just emailed an evaluation questionnaire. Hmmm. I had so much fun with their registration form on the blog a few days ago.

OK, a life we have to live and today is important in that, let’s go, love, Felipe.

I’m back from my retreat and we walked this afternoon. Cynthia and Roan were here. We are just past Rabe de las Calzadas and 12 kms west of Burgos. We are starting on the Meseta, the plain of central Spain.

Walking schedule:
Monday 0900-1000
Tuesday 1530-1630
Thursday 0900-1000
Sunday 1600-1700.

Just come, I will be here. Remember you still need your rubber boots.

Felipe.

Way back when, Pilgrim Farmer John and myself (Pilgrim Farmer Felipe) watched our fathers and their friends demonstrate the fine art of fishing. We were little squirts and didn’t realize we were privileged to be learning from masters. This is way back before catch and release, a weird concept. And definitely before fishing shows on Cable. Watching other people fish, I mean strangers, very weird.

So just to review I was talking about Gracie’s fabulous smile on a reply to a comment. And PFJ was talking about the ability of some women’s smile to bring him in like a big old bass to a Hula Popper. Now I knew exactly what he was talking about. I know what a big old hog bass weighs to a kid, not only looks like. And I know what a Hula Popper looks like and is capable of in action.

Action is the key word here talking about women or fishing lures. Maybe I should stick to fishing here for now. Anyway, the most exciting kind of fishing, in my book, happens on the surface of the water when you can actually see the fish rise and attack the lure. And the Popper is noisy and splashy as you work it in a stop and go manner imitating a careless juicy frog. All that commotion on still water will draw fish from a long way and thus a large part of its success.

This elegant little invention is right up there with Monday Night Football as being the possible high point of Western Civilization. I was thinking the nectarine was on the short list but maybe that came out of China. And maybe film as in movies is way up there too. But there is an interesting parallel between fishing lures and movies which used to exist but who the heck knows these days with fishing shows. But it seems that when times are bad and people feel the pinch and need to “get away” they go to movies and/or go fishing. Ticket sales go up and sales of fishing lures goes up. Yea, little known fact.

So, Felipe, where are you going with this? Well, ah, just in general I find there is too little fishing going on. That could be real life fishing or symbolic fishing. Jesus wants us to be fishers of men. Ah. It can be very exciting and rewarding but also when things are slow the time spent watching a motionless bobber can be very restorative. God knows we need some restoration. All kinds of lessons to be had there too.

So along with the revival of the quince the Hula Popper needs some attention. As I was researching on Google I saw some encouraging signs. Hula Popper tattoos are making there appearance. There was a very touching one that I saw with the words “Forever Fishing” and birth and death dates next to the Popper:

My Rebecca is shaking her head, yes I am writing about Hula Poppers. She never heard of one before yesterday. Thus the value of this blog, broadening horizons. Ever onward, Popper loves, Felipe.

I have a Camino buddy in Australia that checks in on me. Her smile first attracted me to her as I saw it in a rush of early morning pilgrims. Somehow, I jostled over to walk with her and it paid off. Despite Kelly’s best attempts to keep us moving we managed to dilly dally our fool heads off at each and every opportunity. That’s our story and we’re sticking to it.

Also, the documentary shows her with me in the “collapse scene”. Kelly, Gracie and I went to Mass in this small beautiful old church. I made a scene by collapsing from heat exhaustion right in the middle of Mass. And my big claim to fame was that “I fell into the arms of Grace” right there. You will see her and Kelly (and the mysterious nurse from Netherlands that always seemed to be there when we were in trouble) in the film.

Recently she sent some pics and some words that I want to share with you:

“here are a few pics i have of you, the first from the day we dilly dallied and daudled the whole way to the next town and arrived very late too some very concerned friends (it was worth it), one of you stopping and smelling the roses, and the third from a glorious morning sunrise falling over the road ahead this particular morning i was walking with you kelley and emily i remember that beautiful orange pink light from the sunrise making me all types of happy.

what a time! so lucky

gracie”

That’s the way it is for me, for us, today with a tear in my eye, love, Felipe of the Camino.

Everytime I hear that word I’m back in that Humphrey Bogart movie and “Badges! We don’t need no stinking badges!”. Yea, but this is 2016 and we do need the official badges to get around at the upcoming film festival in Austin. Waiting for the official email with news on that.

Ah,the life of a movie star. Yes, not all glitz. And Pilgrim Farmer John in Iowa has started a campaign to flood the festival folks in Dubuque with requests for Phil’s Camino. What a guy! We have to start something in Seattle to stir up trouble here. Michele?

Yup, and it’s springtime (almost) (on the verge) (95%) (close as can be) (particularly) (at least hopefully) here at the ranch. Busy time of year to get everything done that the change of season dictates. Then we have these pesky film festivals to contend with. They couldn’t do them in the rainy season?

Let’s see what else is going on? Ah, Mrs Graves (My Rebecca in her teacher role) gave me a “Cute” on my blog post yesterday. What? Well, I jumped on it and lobbied it up to a Cute+. Yea, at least.

Well, OK, have to run and make it all happen, making hay while the sun shines. Ok, the email from South By Southwest just came in with the stinking badges, ah the badges. Keep it all going there where you are, love, Felipe.

I am off on a retreat this coming weekend. There will be fifty men there from all over Western Washington, Bible Guys I call them. The shindig is put on by Teleios, an umbrella outfit that oversees over a hundred little neighborhood bible study groups. Anyway, the main guy, Art, walked the Camino last summer and took my walking sticks across Spain again. And Bart, Art’s mentor, walked with him and is the guest speaker this weekend. So you can see the attraction for me. Well, we will do some serious bible study and discussion for sure but maybe get some time for Camino chatter between things.

So I am off to this other island, Bainbridge Island. The retreat is at a “retreat center”. OK, yes. Most times if I feel the need to retreat I just pull my cap down a little lower over my eyes. I don’t get over there hardly ever to Bainbridge so this will be different. Visiting a friend maybe on the way. So this morning I’m filling out the really official registration/emergency/who’s your lawyer/ online guest form (the “risk waiver form”). Man, I don’t know but it kind of made me feel like I was from a different planet. That’s not very inclusive.

Maybe I’m getting old, you think, but it’s definitely a different world out there these daze. So on the form, one section was the dietary restriction choices. Geez, I didn’t know there were so many conditions out there. What did we do before this? Somehow reminds me of Marine Corps boot camp, in an opposite way. SOS for breakfast for everyone. If you didn’t like that you could try and find somewhere else to eat, I guess, the Officer’s Club maybe? Yea, but noticed they didn’t have kosher dietary restrictions down there, on Bainbridge Island not Parris Island. That’s an obvious flaw.

OK, then I got to the Disability Requirements Section. It was a big blank. that’s intimidating, no choices? Look, I am not making fun of anything or anyone but just this form (my disclaimer), OK? I was tempted to put down something really silly like “all sidewalks must list 17 degrees to starboard” but held myself back. I mean it was a big blank on the form, inviting my creativity, right? Not wanting to leave it blank I put simply, “Not today!”.

So, yea, one day at a time for this retreater. I am walking Phil’s Camino this PM, with no disability requirements required, God willing. In other words, “Not today!”. Love you, you know what I mean?, Felipe.

After my big Sunday with Father Marc, Gardener Terry and Sister Joyce working me over I had the decompression of walking and tapas. We had some new folks for the trail walk which is always good. But really it wasn’t till tapas with my Rebecca and Catherine y Dana that I finally was able to take a breath and put the day in perspective. That’s what tapa time is for, right?

Yes, and it was one of those tapa times that are so good and bountiful that it turns into the evening meal and Bob’s your uncle after all. We had the standbys of smoked fish, salami, cheese, crackers, pickles and of course olives. But an addition to this that I must mention is the quince jelly. C y D had made this out of fresh quince last fall. Apparently there are areas along the Camino in Spain where it is quite common to serve this as a condiment. I don’t remember it but it may have been the area between Leon and the Samos Monastary the I bussed through.

But the quince is such a forgotten odd fruit that just because of that it may need a revival. I have seen half a dozen in my life, which would be like seeing something every ten years, rare really. So, just an idea to check out. It will definitely raise your grade on the next tapa spread you serve. Yum.

And maybe this odd little fruit has a lesson for us Caminoheads. We who walk ancient trails, search and commune, who are we really? We who walk at two or three miles an hour in the dirt but with the vapor trails of jets high overhead with folks traveling modern speeds. Maybe we are the almost forgotten odd little fruit. And maybe we are part of the revival?

Onward, to read the blogs of Richard Rohr and Terry Hershey. Thanks for being here with me. Sweet quince loves, Felipe.