3-Minute Retreats – Daily Online Prayer – Loyola Press

I have a friend who is, without a doubt, the most christian person I’ve ever met. She actually glows with the light of the Holy Spirit and her faith is such a strong and unbreakable force in her life.

She led me to this simple, yet powerful, daily retreat. I invite all of you who are seeking daily spiritual nourishment to take a few minutes out of your hectic day to visit here:

3-Minute Retreats – Daily Online Prayer – Loyola Press.


Loving Vita

We have a son, brought to us not by genetics but rather by adoption. A sweet little Russian boy, at age 7, when we first met him and his sister. His sister’s story is not for me to tell I think. So, let me just say that she was also adopted, she was loved, she chose to leave, and had chosen to not remain in contact with her biological half-brother. End of that story.

This is about my sweet Vita. He is now 15 (soon to be 16!) and is experiencing sadness and trauma and depression stemming from a time before we knew him. A time when, in the orphanage, a half-gypsy/half-Russian child was considered an outrage. His earliest recall of a “nickname”, said in English, was “ni@@er”.  He told me that he was one, in his still broken English, and filled with shame that we had adopted him without knowing this “truth” about him.  My outraged denials did not, I think, have any impact on changing his self-image. Apparently darker skin is not something prized in that part of the world and he paid the price by not only physical abuse, but verbal torment which his sister could not completely shield him from.

Abuse and hunger were part of his early years, not only from within the orphanage but from our understanding also from his biological mother during the brief time she had custody of him.  So, when I say that he has both a driven need for love and family and an inability to respond to love in a healthy manner, please know that is not an exaggeration.  I love him ferociously and fiercely. I love him even with the certainty that if say, tomorrow, we were to get a knock on the door and found some manner of official who would demand “Vita, come with us you are going to a new family” that he would pick up his few prized possessions and leave without a backward glance towards us.

You see for him, nothing is forever. Nothing is certain. Not even the love of a mother brought to him by God.

My poor sweet Vita.


Smiling Vita

His first two week summer visit with us.

V new clothes

So proud of his brand new clothes! He arrived off of the plane in ill-fitting, filthy, disgusting castoffs. His pride in his clothing can be seen in his face!

V and Bug

He *loves* his electronics. Here is Caitie showing him how to use a laptop.



Love At The End

My son the writer posted this on his blog. He has been a writer since he was a wee lad of 2. I was his first secretary, editor, and critic. I find him marvelous and original. I think you will as well.

The Living Room Corner

Sometimes I hate my dreams.

Not the ones that everyone encourages me to follow, like go to college and get a job that makes more than 12k a year. Not the ones that “those who care” hear and react as though I want to try shooting heroin into my urethra, like try to get a novel published and make a living as a writer. I’m talking about the ones that happen after I close my eyes and hope I wake up on time to catch the bus for work.

I’ve had some fairly traumatizing dreams. I’ve been drugged with a parasite whose effects mimic opiates and acid, but the side effects include minor to severe decomposition. I’ve wandered underground tombs where my friends lose their minds and light each other on fire and speak with mold and moss doppelgangers. I lived in a world where sprout cock (a disease where…

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Things that are just too sweet to pass up…

As a short, fat, Mexican-American woman, you’d think I’d be working harder to defy the chubby-gene which I’ve been cursed to endure during this life time. Nope. No defiance here. I am horribly addicted not only to chocolate, but to all things sweet in general.

At Christmas time, we try to make a new and original dessert. We made this chocolate ganache, candied orange cake. Okay, to be truthful we said “screw the candied oranges” and just went with the rest. This cake is the best. Simply the best. It’s so rich that a very thin slice will keep you happy and satisfied. 


My husband calls this the “11 hour” cake because of the time it took him to make it start to finish. It is *amazing* We skipped the candied orange part and it was still amazingly perfect.


Pope Francis I


Words cannot express my joy and happiness at the selection of Jorge Bergoglio as the new head of the Most Holy Roman Catholic Church.  Immediately, upon seeing his beautiful face my heart rejoiced. I believe Pope Francis I can help heal and unify us.

Oh, and to those haters who have nothing better to do than to mock, be intolerant, rude and disrespectful to a holy man who will *not* impact their life at all, and yet choose to laugh and hurt those of us who love him….well, to put it simply: go to hell. No. Really. Go.