We are prophets of a future not of our own*

Today we honor Archbishop Oscar Romero who was martyred 31 years ago. Oscar Romero was from El Salvador. He, reluctantly, became an advocate for the poor in El Salvador.

{l}

Growing up, Romero was commonly mentioned in family discussions. I knew who he was, that he was killed while celebrating Mass, and the causes he championed before I could properly recite a rosary. That's saying a lot for this Catholic kid. He was always one of those important figures in my life. While other kids in CCD class with me knew about Mary, Jesus, and the common saints, I knew about Oscar Romero and could spout out information about his life in rapid succession. Every Sunday, my church included his name when we invoked the Saints of the Americas. On some level, I knew that not everyone knew about him, but I didn't quite comprehend that all Catholic kids didn't grow up talking about him around the dinner table.

Why do I talk about this? In many social justice oriented Catholic groups, Oscar Romero is a figure head - the hero used to light the fire under a groups' collective rear ends. Everyone knows about him; many people say that they fight for social justice because they are inspired by him; and still other groups repeat his words. But, do people really know about him. Why did Oscar Romero do what he did? How can he inspire us to advocate for social justice, to serve the underprivileged? How can he be more than just a name or just a figure head?

Truth be told, I don't have answers for this. I've been in discussions with numerous people about this over the past couple years. We always toss around ideas or some actions that might last a few weeks, but never anything concrete. One thing I've become aware of this year is that I don't want to be someone who can only talk the walk.

*often attributed to Archbishop Oscar Romero, but actually written by Bishop Ken Untener

...Peace is the generous, tranquil contribution of all to the good of all. Peace is dynamism. Peace is generosity....

we do strange things when there is a hint of spring in the air

 

Gotta love St. Cloud.

 McRudy's - Irish Pub in Downtown St. Cloud.

 St. Patrick's Day was the first "real" taste of spring we got up in the frozen tundra. People were back out on bikes, strolling through downtown. It was heavenly.

 Just in case someone doubted that I'm Irish. I have an abnormal amount of green clothes. Enough to do an entire load of laundry.

Finally! Irish (or wannabe Irish) sighting in St. Cloud. I went through an entire St. Paddy's Day at work and didn't see a single person wearing any shade of green.

Gotta represent.

Free for the taking. Found along Clearwater while walking home Saturday afternoon.

thoughts

{l}

a snow day in pictures

You have to realize that I haven't had a snow day in years. Well, since that freak snowstorm senior year of college that actually forced WC to close for a day. Today, my office is closed. All the other volunteers are at work. To celebrate, I downloaded the free trial of netflix and drank entirely too much tea.

I think this blizzard is mocking me for being too excited about the warm weather last week. Where is spring?

After 2 hours of snow blowing, my hair was frozen. Icicles and all.

12+ inches in the past 12 hours. It's still snowing.

Hey Mr. Snow Plow Man. Can you keep up?

Spending the day drinking tea, watching crappy tv shows, and generally not doing anything productive or work-related.

Fitting, no?

Crossword puzzle over a late breakfast.

 I could get used to this life. My snow day is ending in a little over an hour. I should probably shovel a little more, but my coat is soaking wet from this morning and I'm all cozy.

just around the corner... right?

I crave sunshine around this time of year. It is February and spring should theoretically be just around the corner. But, this year, I'm living in the frozen tundra of the north and I still have a good two months left of winter. Sunshine around here tends to be a cruel joke. It's usually colder when the sun is out and the sun always comes out after a heavy snowfall. I can't take much more of the well below mornings and afternoons even though the sun makes me feel alive. With the sun, I don't think about hibernating as much. I think about spring and flowers and short sleeves and sandals.

Today, the temperature topped out above 40, which was a far cry from the -18 we had earlier in the week. I could finally take a walk around the neighborhood without worrying about frostbite. It was grand. 

 The snow piles are still there, but the warmer temperatures do give me home that spring is just around the corner. (I'm ignoring everyone who tells me that it's just a temporary thaw).

 

When the snow melts...

 The street in front of my house is turning into a river. It's going to be a mess when everything starts to melt. I don't know what they are going to do with all the snow. In the Twin Cities, they are trucking out some snow. Too much for up here.

Naming of squirrels and birds

When I was little, my cousin Sarah and I gathered and Gram and Papa's house most weekends for sleep-overs to get away from our pesky little brothers. Gram would pamper us and Papa would sneak us an extra bowl of breyers' vanilla bean ice cream. We'd sit in the kitchen overlooking that opened up to this porch and make up stories about Sam the Squirrel. Sam the Squirrel always made it to the porch first for the nuts Gram set out. We also created a place at the table for him - a chair with books stacked high so he could reach the table. Unfortunately, he never made it inside despite the fact that I often opened the door for him.

{l}

Like Sam the Squirrel, Lester the Flying Crow was another friend that hung out on Gram and Papa's porch. He often stole the nuts Gram put out for Sam and his friends. Lester had his own song, which went:

Lester the flying crow

Who he is

We don't know

He swoops down into our yard

Maybe he's meeting friends or playing cards.

Gram, I always thought, was much more partial to Lester than she was to Sam. I loved Sam because I was convinced that he read books like I did. He always wore awesome Ben Franklin spectacles. Lester played cards and the only games I liked as a kid were Old Maid, Go Fish, and Crazy Eights. 

I still sing about Lester when I see a crow flying about. Last week there was one outside my bedroom window. I wonder if Lester (or Lester's ancestor) made a trip up north to check in on me.

travels home

A few highlights from my Christmas trip back home. It went by entirely too fast and I find myself missing the comfort of Ohio while I'm here. In 6 months I'll be back.

Celebrating Christmas at St. Pat's with this Charlie Brown tree.

cousins on Christmas discussing the merits of something or another.

guy cousins sporting snazzy jackets from Gram.

scrabble games (that I won)

because we're awesome

New Year's Eve lunch with these lovely ladies.

brother and his dog, buddy.