Swim For The Border

Consider this Queridos Amigos...

Barbara and I are preparing to repeat our efforts to raise money for children living in poverty in the border town of Nogales, Sonora, Mexico.

That's right, SWIM FOR THE BORDER 2011!

Last year we swam 100 kilometers over five weeks and with your support over $5000 was donated to buy educational materials to support the preschoolers attending Mamá Margarita Daycare Center, located in the barrio of Flores-Magon.

 This year we are raising money for DEIJUVEN, an organization that provides quality after school care to 500 children living in extreme poverty in Nogales, Sonora.

We want you to join us! 

Swim, walk, run, cycle, jazzercise and zumba your way to the border!

How does it work?

 

• Choose your preferred activity (swim, walk, run, bike, jazzercise, zumba, etc).
• The fun starts March 9 and goes through April 24.
• Ask your nearest and dearest to sponsor your efforts, and by all means, sponsor yourself and others (please)! 
• Work out with purpose, hold the children in your heart during your workouts.
• Give one hour a day for 40 days (7 hours a week).

Or team up and tackle the challenge together.

 
If you can't commit to the 40 days, what about a one day extravaganza with friends?
 

Donations are tax deductible to Santa Cruz Community Foundation, and can be made online, by mail or phone.

 

Barbara and Anne will provide informational brochures to share with your sponsors, SWIM FOR THE BORDER personalized thank you cards and lots of love and support!

This invitation is for all people of all faiths, including vegan.

  

For more information, visit http://www.swimfortheborder.com/.

Ready to go for it? Email swimfortheborder@gmail.com and share your enthusiasm!

Become a fan on Facebook!

Good, Bad, Beautiful

Today is Victorian Day in Michael's class.

He told us all about life in Victorian times...

They had no toilets. If you wanted to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night you used a bowl under your bed, for poop or pee. Then, in the morning, you threw it out of the window, and if anyone was walking past at that moment, the poop and pee would fall on their head.

Electricity wasn't allowed in Victorian times. They used candle sticks, and the ladies wore really big skirts, and when they walked down stairs with their candle, their skirts were so big they would trip and fall and die.

They didn't have bath tubs or showers, they used dirt tubs.

They didn't have washing machines, they used wash boards to wash their clothes, and everyone had to wash their own clothes, even kids, not just mommies and daddies. So everyday all day long you had to wash your clothes. And I don't think that's fair to do that without getting paid.

I'm right with you, brother.

Thoughts on the Weather
It rains a lot. It has only "bucketed" a few times, mostly it is the lightest rain that you cannot see from inside the house. It is only when we get outside that we can tell if it is raining or not. Every morning I come down stairs and press my face to the window and stare at our deck and the plants in our backyard for some sign of movement by water. It probably rains about 4 - 7 days a week for part of the day...

I am used to Tucson rain, or Los Mochis rain. A cleansing rain that blasts from the sky and washes away all blemishes and leaves behind a fresh and sparkley world. The rain here puffs up my hair, and turns everything green.

Our house is covered in green fuzz balls that roll off of our roof.

And with rain comes mud.

But oh, the dog poop!

We live in dog heaven.

Bowling for water fowl.

Brits take fantastic care of their doggies, taking them for long walks, you see them frolicking in the lakes and streams, chasing sticks and balls. And they do pick up after them. Every where you go you see people carrying saggy baggies...

But there's always the one that got away.

And this leads to my complaint/observation about the rain here. It rains constantly, but not hard enough to wash away the turds. The constant drizzle holds any stray dookie in a preserved state of moisture. I have seen a massive one last for two weeks as fresh as a daisy. In Tucson it would dry up and blow away...

I have evolved a sixth sense for dog poop detection. I memorize where, on our walk to school, the turds are and yell ahead to the boys, "Don't step in the dog poop!"

I am suspicious of piles of leaves, or piles of snow...

Dominic's teacher told us we came in the worst month, August, because the weather was only going to get worse.



Heath Lake, iced over.
There were zinging sounds coming from the ice
as the ducks moved over it and made tiny cracks.

Lastly, it's very dark. The combo of our latitude of 51 degrees and the cloud cover, it is dark dark dark a lot.

But not always.

We so rarely get a sunny spell (forget a whole sunny day) that when the sun came out a few days ago, Michael got very excited and shouted, "THE SUN IS OUT!!" It is truly that exciting!

Fortunately, we are on the backside of darkness. Beginning December 21st we gain two minutes a day of daylight.

 It is the reverse of what we care about in Tucson, which is making it through the summer.

I always feel proud come September, knowing I survived another Tucson summer.

I already feel a small sense of accomplishment for weathering the winter in England.

Egyptian Geese, Horseshoe Lake

Tucson


Rain coats

It is hard to be away from the town we love during a time of tragedy.

But we are deeply inspired to see our Tucson come together and show the world the loving community we know and cherish.

I love my home town.

The neighborhood heavy.

 And I am falling in love with Crowthorne.


Naming ducks.

 I had an inkling the other day that when it is time to leave, I will miss it.


Such handsome fellows!





Christmas 2010

Waiting for Anna at the Athens airport.

She made it to Athens at 7 PM, Christmas Eve after 24 hours of travel in great shape. There are no photos of her first moments because the second I got my hands on her, I sobbed hysterically, not wanting to let go of my very tired daughter.

An hour later we were seated for Christmas Eve dinner at Cecilia and Andrew's house.

William and Anna were good sports, they humored me while I stalked them from across the table.

It was a massive relief to have her safe and sound with us. And to have my four children together after being apart for four months felt wonderful.

She agreed to visit for five days, the time that remained from her original trip had she made the earlier flights. I was advised by one or two nosey relatives to agree to the five days, get her in our grasp and then keep her. I wanted her to stay at least through New Years...but she wanted to get back to Tucson and celebrate with her friends.

It was frustrating for me to have so few days, but my heart told me to honor her choice. I myself feel mad love for my friends, and I love that she is rich in friendship. I am left wanting more of her.


I love these faces!

And I love these faces too. Juan and Susana are Cecilia's parents. I am a fan of theirs. They were so good to me when I lived in Mexico. I loved to hang out at their house, they were so nice to each other.

Susana and Cecilia made a beautiful multi course dinner for Christmas Eve. There was chicken, ham, crepes, sea food salad, green salad, and lots of other treats. William mentioned that he wanted a carne colorada Susana had made a day before.

In my world, the answer to a request like that would be, "Are you insane? Do you not see this mountain of food we spent days preparing? This is your dinner!!" And then I would steam for an hour or two.

But Mexican women are servicial.

"Cómo no le voy a dar el gusto?" she demanded. How could I not give him this pleasure?

It is a lovely sentiment. I learned so much about love from Susana and from my Mexican mother-in-law Silvia when I lived in Mexico. Mexican women serve their families from a place of love and it is beautiful, a spiritual gift. I am a thousand time better person after being trained up by these loving powerhouses.

In place of telling William to stuff it, she asked him if he wanted beans on the side.

I wanted to sit on top of her.

Presents!!

There is no happy like the happy you get from presents!

Cecilia, Isabella, Andrew.

The star of the evening and of the best present of the whole holiday was Isabella, two and a half month old goober.


Tesoros!



This is what the whole night actually looked like. Lunacy for Isabella.

Cecilia is bombarded with love by her new family. She is adored as she should be. Mike and I are so happy to see her cherished.

Hermosa Susana.

Santa managed to find us in Athens, thank goodness!


Christmas morn dash.



Santa decided not to bring a Wii.

Dominic's very own Ben 10 piece of crap!

Santa knows what boys like.

How about that! Santa loves Jane Austen too!

By some miracle, we managed to get ourselves gussied up and ready for Christmas services at Agia Olga, a Greek Orthodox church that Andrew's family attends, with services in Arabic. His family is Lebanese/Palistinian/Greek and the language they speak at home is Arabic.

I LOVED it. An imposing bishop, with a very fancy hat, officiated. The service was mostly sung and chanted, his voice was booming and filled the small church. Near the front and to the side of the church four or five cantors accompanied the bishop's chanting. The walls were painted with icons, including St. Anne, Jesus's meemaw. I want to go back. Attending the service with my four children was a highlight of the trip. I stopped forcing William and Anna to attend church with us when they were in high school (although I did try bribery by breakfast burrito). I want them to find their own way religiously.  And I also believe that church can happen anywhere. On Christmas day, church was in Agia Olga. I really like it that in the Orthodox church anyone who is baptised can take communion. I loved seeing babies and small children participate. We were encouraged to join in, and Mike, Michael, Dominic and I partook.

Here is an icon of a diakonos, or deaconess. I am going to hold my breath until women are accepted (again) as priests.  God bless us everyone.

Ok, now on to the party. Wowee wow wow. Andrew's parents done did up their home Christmas style!

In awe of the village.



Can you spot the two boys in this photo?



Me with Tetta Nada and Andrew.

Andrew's mother prepared a Lebanese feast for about 70 guests. It was magical. Chicken, fish, more fish, shrimp, hummus, salads, stuffed grape leaves, stuffed zuccini, tiny goat's feet, and more. and more and more. The goat's feet were served as the top layer over the stuffed grape leaves and zuccini.  It took my eyes a few seconds to register what they were...having recently affirmed my "say yes" philosophy, I decided to go for it and try a tiny goat tootsie. It was gelatinous and contained some unexpected bone nubbins which freaked me out a little. But when I paired it with the parsley and onion tabbouleh salad...I got it down. I was so proud of me.


Can you see Dominic behind Mike?

Michael and Dominic sat at the kids' table with a darling group of multi-lingual children who were conversing with each other in French, Arabic, Greek and English.

It was a gorgeous lunch and we were honored to be included.

Darling, smile for another photo???

I found myself wanting to document every second, every laugh, every tenderness. I wanted so badly to be able hold onto this time, to preserve us together.

Como queremos a Cecilia!

The End

Epilogue
We flew home to England, froze our arses off at Stonehenge, watched the fog roll in at Oxford, and then said goodbye to our William and Anna.