more bluebirds…everywhere!

bluebirdThis is the third day of my St. Therese of Lisieux novena, and instead of roses, I’m getting bluebirds.

Everywhere.

It’s amazing.

We live in a fairly quiet community that has a good bit of wildlife. All manner of birds. Deer. Raccoons. An occasional fox. Too many bunnies and chipmunks and squirrels.

And now: bluebirds.

We’ve seen them here and there over the years, but it seemed like they never came up the hill to our backyard. Maybe it was too dense up here — too many trees. But a couple of years ago we starting clearing the back yard and doing some landscaping, and B00M! — the bluebirds came.

It’s kinda neat. We’ve been sitting on the porch enjoying the late afternoon breeze, sharing our space with the hummingbirds and the rest of the Disney characters, and now, delightfully — the little bluebirds of happiness.

still can’t bi-locate

Enjoy my friend, Padre Pio, next to this creepy bobble head of none other than Mother Teresa. What a pair!
Enjoy my friend, Padre Pio, next to this creepy bobble head of none other than Mother Teresa. What a pair!

My dad was devoted to St. Pio of Pietrelcina, and St. Pio was devoted to prayer.

Today, on his feast day, I remember Pop, and offer you this brief prayer composed by Padre Pio:

May Jesus comfort you
in all your afflictions.
May He sustain you in dangers,
watch over you always with His grace,
and indicate the safe path
that leads to eternal salvation.
And may He render you
always dearer to His Divine Heart
and always more worthy of Paradise. Amen.

what I learned from Otis

otisIt’s no news that I don’t like pets, and yet, this silly dog has managed to break down that barrier and endear himself to me. There is no goofier dog than Otis. And no goofier master than me.

I love to see him run, full out, when he gets a wild hair and does laps around the yard.

Every part of his being is in this run, and it’s a joy to watch, especially when he leaps. He must think he’s a race horse jumping hurdles. Or Michael Jordan defying gravity on his way to a lay up. It’s just amazing to watch him soar through the air, fly, and then land without missing  his momentum — around again, and again, until he stops and throws himself on the ground at my feet, spent.

I should embrace my own projects with the same singular commitment to run — run hard — until I’m spent. And then allow myself to rest a bit before getting up and doing it again.

I need endurance. Perseverance. Steadfastness.

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