Posting way over-due.  oh well.

We brought the horses up from their summer pasture yesterday, back to the fresh fall growth south & east of the house.  It was a good challenge of calming attitude and approach, to get them to follow a grain bucket and Corin and I over the line where the hot-wire had kept them out of the east pasture for so many months.   Their wild side tends to stand out after they've spent the better part of summer on their own over by the neighbor's big red barn.  The process went well. The best pleasure was sharing a bit of horse-time with Corin. 
Drove west to town at sunset with Diane to buy some food at Subway ( no one wanted to cook any real food this evening, and Katie & Kirdan had taken over the kitchen to bake cookies)--- and the evening sky looked an awful lot like the sunset over the river as we crossed from Paraguay into Argentina back in July.  It was a pleasant evocation of a happy memory.


bless you and yours

Two weeks ago I was introduced to bus transit in the metro area of Asuncion, Paraguay.  I soon agreed with my niece who stated, "Most of the time it is better just not to look..."
Last night the helicopters weren't flying due to thunderstorms across the top third of Minnesota.  The patient in my care really needed to be in the cardiac cath lab 163 miles away  As there was no other nurse available, and as our region has no paramedic-level ambulance service, I took the ride in the ambulance with the patient to the big medical center far away.  From the time we pulled away from the loading bay at our hospital, we were in the cath lab in 127 minutes.  That includes city traffic and construction zones, and navigating under the escort of hospital security from ambulance bay through hallways & elevators to the cath lab on the 4th floor. 
As my niece said, there are times it's better just not to look...
The pay for those runs seems exorbitant, but it's really just hazardous duty compensation.

This day; to remember and honor our dead.  Loved ones who died in service to their country, loved ones who served their families, loved ones who served their country in places far away from their families, thence returning, living and giving, and finally resting their old body beneath the sod of granite-markered fields.  

This day I voice remembrance of my father, and thousands of men like him, now long gone-  who served their country during World War II in the only way that could be found for them to fulfill the needs of their government while being true to their conscience and to their best understanding of following the Way of Jesus:  The CPS men. 
Dad was a gentle man at heart; and thanks be to God that he had the courage to give voice to his conscience before his local draft board and follow through with faithful service, protecting our western forests against the threats of fire, and serving the daily needs of men less fortunate than he, who's loss of mental health rendered them captive in an antiquated psychiatric facility in Ohio.  Men like my father carried the secret of Japanese firebombs sent to burn our western coastal regions ( a fact not released from "classified" status by the government until the 1980's). Men like my father caused the care of the mentally ill in this country to be completely changed from the sick system in which many were simply "sent away" and never were given any opportunity to regain their health and relationships.  Men like my father staged the only large scale protest on American soil during the war, against the injustice of the interment system for Japanese citizens. Men like my father bore many long hours of hard physical labor, giving their sweat and tears and loneliness to develop thousands of acres of farmland,  land which was previously unusable due to drainage problems but which went on to feed Amercia.  They bathed the feces-throwers in the mental hospital.  They dug the ditches, pioneered smoke-jumping in fighting forest fires, and built community among  amazingly diverse groupings of men in camps all across this country. 

 Sometimes men like my father were called cowards for not going to war.  No, my friend, cowards they were not.  It is courage which enables a man to leave his family behind and submit to a government-administered program.  It is courage which enables a man to follow his conscience when his community rejects him.  Cowardice does not bring forth the presence of soul to upturn an entire system of mental health care, or put your life on the line for the non-military good of your country. 

May we all live with such courage as to dig deep into our own conscience, working out our faith in a state of humility, able to face the darkness of our nights with the comforting knowledge that we have been true-hearted and harmed no one.

If you know a CPS man, greet him whole-heartedly. Give him your deepest respect, and be a listener to the tales he may still need to tell. 
Please do this for all of our elderly vets; for in the speaking of their stories they may find yet once again another piece of healing for the memories they carry.
To David;  and all his commrades who now lie cold in the earth, waiting beyond the grave for what is yet to come.
We love you.