devestation and detestation

Yesterday I was approached by a woman who worked at an agency downtown.

They asked if the Methodist church could help a women who was pregnant and had seven children under the age of 8.

She was doing all the right things, just ran into some hard times, and couldn't be placed in housing for another month.

The Catholic church turned her away.

Because she wasn't married.

Because her husband left.

The Catholic church told them to try the Methodists.

Anger isn't even the start of it. I'm stuck today wishing there was a huge cache of money somewhere to help all the people in need down here. Everyday I see the poorest of poor. The ones without running water. The ones who use the restroom outside and have to decide between feeding their children or paying the electricity bill. Sure there are people here who just take advantage of those who are willing to help, but then there are women like this one who just can't get on her feet.

A person who needs help is a person who needs help. It doesn't matter their education level, their family ties, who they know, or even their legal status.

When do we all learn that we are called to look out and care for people like this?

clean fruit.

My official job title: Gopher

Normally this would be a little frustrating, but it means i get to do all sorts of things. Take my exciting adventure Sunday morning....

I was leaving the house at 9:30 to run to H.E.B. (the grocery store, also affectionately called Ham, eggs, bread or some guys name) to pick up a fruit and vegetable platter for a reception after church. As I'm leaving the pastor pulls up and asks me to take her car so that I can run through the car wash.

So i'm off with a signed blank check, in the pastors car and decide to go through the car wash first. I'm not a big fan of these things because they always give you that weird vertigo that makes you think you are moving when in reality you aren't and then i'm just confused the rest of the day.

I run into HEB after making sure the car is definitely not moving. Find the pre-made platters that were ordered and go to pay with a blank check that I of course didn't sign. Now you can get away with pretty much anything in Eagle Pass. No one parks on the correct side of the street. Left turns from the right lane happen all the time, and no one checks id's. Except this once at HEB. So I plead with the cashier and after a few skeptical looks it goes through. So out i run through the door, later than expected with two very large trays. I make it to the car, put the trays on the roof to open the door, and the fruit tray slides down the rear window spilling its contents. This is definitely not vertigo.

Long story short (ha) there is white fruit dip all over the back of the car and pineapple and strawberries flying off the back as I'm cruising through E.P. So not only did I fail with the clean car, i ruined the fruit tray.

Just another day in the life...

take it

I woke up in a dead sweat yesterday.

I was probably somewhere I shouldn't have been, but that wasn't what woke me up. I realized that it doesn't snow here in the winter.

How unsettling.

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I have been adopted into the Eagle Pass culture. I kiss cheeks when I meet up with people. I know my way around, and about half the people at any restaurant we go to. I can hold my own when discussing Border Politics. I know that refried beans go with just about anything. And most importantly I'm on a first name basis with the taco stand man.

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that's it. Welcome to my life.

Fala Fala Fala

I've taken a hiatus from writting.

I could blame it on the mounds and mounds of donated clothes that I have no desire to ever see again, but that's not quite it.

It seems that in times of transition, that middle period between coming and going, when I am actually settled, I lose all desire to write. There's no creative spark, no ideas, and no adjectives.

And then there are those days where I wake up and it takes every fiber in my being to keep a pen out of my hand. Usually those days are full of adventure and excitement. Not full of folding and sorting clothes.

I live for adventure. The kind that takes your breath away and makes every little hair stand on end. The kind that pushes you past every last one of your comfortable boundaries.

The adventure bug bit again. For some reason, a year later, I'm back to dreaming of Portugal with interuptions every now and then from Eagle Pass Border Patrol. What happened to being content where I was?

Can't help it if I'm full of fire.

I've been put down, pushed around, apprehended and led downtown. An' I can't help it if I'm out of sight, 'Cause I'm restless tonight.

Sometimes running in circles is the best you can do.

Sometimes being stuck is the only acceptable thing.



But then again, sometimes it's okay to be angry at the sticky mud that has been holding you.

It's okay to be done embracing the feeling of it sucking your cute boots under.