Monday, April 14, 2014

morning reflections

I have a favorite song that i listen to daily.
It will never be on the radio,
for it comes from a community church i was involved in many years ago.
It is based in an old testament prophet, Isaiah.
the title is "Who has measured the waters in the Hollow of His hand" by the fisherfolk.
It is a song of hope and humility
and i need a daily does of this,
for it reminds me that if   say i understand, i am being fooled.
If i say i know, i am being fooled.
If it is clear, then i am missing something.
This life is not certain,
nor is it clear
and we each try to get trough it the best that we can
and we fail regularly
and that is okay,
we just need to get up and try again.
You can listen to this CD here,
there is no "video", but rather this is from the community of celebration website.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

woke up this morning

again my heart was singing!
So many places i have been,
so many people have touched me,
my heart that is.
I lite a candle a few Sundays ago
and grief that had been held in my heart,
rose up and overwhelmed me for a moment
and then was gone.
Holding on so tightly to what was no more,
it felt so go to let it go.
So many have gone away from this life
and yet they remain in my heart.
Letting go is never easy,
but necessary.
A good day indeed
and it is warm here in the Northeast for a third day.
My memory seems to have become weird,
short term is good, maybe great,
Long term (save those few years lost after the operation) is great,
but mid-term, that seems to be developing (or maybe it always was?) holes.
Blogging is sometimes hard,
but this is not.
Yes, there are dark spots in my mind,
but i see good from all of it.
Some actions have not been the best of choices,
but the end result has been for the best.
God still lives, not matter what i think.

Did you know that this is not the complete morning thought i had,
for my heart sings it once and then goes to another tune!

Thursday, April 10, 2014

returning

Away for  spell,
where Spring has come,
still cold
and sometimes rainy,
but Spring was definitely arrived.

The Farm
and have pictures to prove it!




My faithful helper went cleaning and weeding

more "free" range chickens
Flowering plum


Angel Garden

Barnyard flock of Guinea Hens
guess who is in charge


dinner time!

weeping cherry

flowering plum

flowering peach tree

flowering apple tree

Hughey, Louey and Daisy!

some goats

Goat in a basket

Monday, March 24, 2014

What can i say the lights shines about me now

I traveled in darkness too long,
it was cold and lonely.
It was not because of winter,
though that did not help.
It was not because of others,
though they did not help.
Not because of "loves',
nor friends,
nor family...
It was because of me.
For a time too long,
even my posts have been twinged with something dark,
self pity.
Perhaps the most evil thing i can think of,
because, it, above all others,
robs us of joy and love and hope.
It is a funny thing, those in my community have tried to speak it out,
attempted to pull me out,
but only i can make that choice,
they just let me know that it was there.
Oh so many reasons to feel that darkness,
to embrace it and call it my own.
And one good reason to leave it behind,
life.
"Joy comes in the morning" it is written
and so it is
for i woke with a song in my heart,
thankfulness on my lips
and light shining all around.
The darkness has been broken
and the light shines again.
For this i am extreemely grateful.

You probably will not see me here for a bit,
but all is okay,
the night is done.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

My Dad - Joseph E. Kuntz Sr

It is relatively late on Tuesday March 18th, 2014 and i am thinking of my Dad, who was born on this day in 1921.

I am thinking of his stories to me of growing up in a relatively rural area in the town of Ippling in Lorraine about 50 miles from Strasbourg, France.
He told me only a few stories before World War II came, but he told me of his family fermenting and then distilling plums and how an inspector would come with a special device to determine if it was the correct type of alcohol so it could be consumed.  He told me (and i have a pilots license, in French of course) that he learned to fly at the age of 13.
He told me that he had begun to go to a technical school for engineering and that in school he learned French, German and English and that he loved math.
He told me that when war came, he became a spy for British Intelligence and that he was captured twice, but escaped each time.
The first time the Germans wanted to make a poster child of him, because of his looks.
He told me that he would not go back to France because neighbors had "ratted" him out and therefore threatened his family.
He told me he was held prisoner once with a Russian soldier and learned Russian from that man.  His final escape was in the bed of a coal car and he just barely escapes.
The  British wanted him to go back again, but he refused because he feared for his family.  He made his way to Spain and there became disillusioned with the Catholic church because they were siding with Franco and the Nazis.  He learned Spanish and stayed for 6 months with a family in the southern part of Spain where he became close with the families daughter.
He made his way to North Africa to join with Charles DeGaul and the Free French air force.  He flew what they had, which was mostly Spads.  He spoke of a favorite dish that they ate of raw liver mixed with red wine and onions.
These were the details, but he talked little of any fighting.  I found a book about a pilot in the Free French Air Force "Wind, sea and sand" and gave it to him.  It turned out that he knew the man, but he had "disappeared" after a mission,  I have never seen the book again, anywhere, and he never spoke more of it.  I know that he came to the United States to an Air Force base in South Carolina where he was taught how to fly more modern aircraft (I have some of the pamphlets from this) and when the war ended before his training was finished, he decided to stay in the United States.
He moved to Washington DC and worked with the French consulate because he knew a number of languages and picked them up easily.
He decided to become a citizen and was sponsored by a US senator.
He had to leave the country to apply and lived in Cuba for 6 months, where his knowledge of language saved several times.  Once in a cantina, the table next to him of several men were talking how they would rob him when he left the cantina - they were unaware that he spoke Spanish and he did not let it be know until he was ready to leave.  He walked over to the table and drew his service revolver and spoke to them in fluent Spanish that if they left there table and tried to hurt him, he would kill them.
He returned to Washington DC after 6 months with no serious problems and began working in a Jewelry store.  I have some of his work still.
He married an Argentinean woman, but before a year was out, she left and went back to her country.  Shortly after that he met my mom, who was working as a nurse in Washington DC.  As she tells the story, she needed to have a watch repaired and saw him and then began going there daily.  They married and then decided to move to Houston.
My dad did not like to talk about the war much, it affected him greatly and there was not a lot of detail, but it was wonderful to hear any part of it.

Cold Feet

quite literally,
cold feet.
Woke up way too early last night
and could not figure what was wrong.
Spent time on the "net",
the computer,
and roaming around the house.
I felt fine,
i was not sick,
but when i would go back to bed,
i could not get comfortable.
I did not feel cold,
yet something nagged at me that i was.
Just a little thing,
my two feet.
I covered them in socks
and feel immediately back to sleep,
a deep , peaceful sleep.
Such a small part of our body,
to cause so much discomfort for my entire being!
It is funny now,
but i will feel it later on.
So i will laugh now.

Friday, March 14, 2014

those who cannot remember the past...

yea, i deal with this often,
you would not think that loosing a few years of memory would be a big deal,
but it is.
I tried to do something just recently,
that i had tried before,
and failed,
during my memory gap.
It of course failed again,
for the same reasons.
I have no control over this that happened,
yet...
I blame myself for not remembering,
at least for a bit.
It is not that i would not learn from it,
it is that i can not remember it.
Oh, well...
life in the Adventure!