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It's hard to find time to work on Missions Bloom when I spend so much time going through the more than 100 blogs I check out daily on Google Reader.

I like to follow the news of the world. But, sometimes the stuff that shows up on blogs puts a whole new perspective on things.

I don't plan on turning this blog into political statements. I guess it should be plain to many that I tend to have some conservative outlooks on things. Others could be termed liberal - although I shudder at having that word applied to me.

At the moment, I'm still getting about 5,000 words a day on the manuscript, but am kinda on hold because I'm waiting for some information on the Franciscan College of San Fernando in Mexico.

Gasoline headed to $5 per gallon.
Riots and killings in the Middle East over what appears to me to be nothing.
Constant news about who's running for office and who's trying to be re-elected.

When does it end?

Anyhow, off to read the blogs so I can cut and paste the stuff I know will drive the liberals on my local newspaper's e-forums up the wall. I love watching them wriggle and squirm when I cite facts!!!

See ya later.

My Apologies

for letting my followers down by not posting for awhile.

I'm deep in writing and researching the third of my Father Serra's Legacy trilogy. Bluewood Publishing gave me six months to finish it and there's so much to go into it that it's turning out to be the hardest of the three to write.

If I write about a visit to a particular mission in a certain time frame, I've got to ensure that I include the proper historical figures in their appropriate role. Between a bevy of research sources, I've come across several sites that include the rather complete genealogy of California from 1769 to about 1840. So, as you can guess, it's not just a matter of getting the words down on paper.

But - it's fun!

And I want the final product to be something everyone can enjoy - and learn from. [How many boring hours did I spend in classroom going through stuff written for a mummy?]

Anyhow, got lots of other stories to write about my military career and will get back to telling A Soldier's Tales in the near future.

See ya!!!!!

Back to Work

There's a Catholic church here in Las Vegas with a chapel open to the public 24 hours.
I can spend days and days trying to remember the last time I actually had a conversation with The Man. But, with all that's happened, I closed my eyes and poured out my heart.
I prayed that my little friend is safe and has someone to feed and care for him.
I prayed my wife would suffer less in the days ahead - his leaving has caused her a great deal of pain.
And I told Him how I was not trying to use or abuse the story of what brave, pious men did in the 1700s to spread His word in the Californias. My goal was and is to let many know what life was like and set things straight. They did not enslave the Indians, treating them like their own children. I also made a promise to Him that we won't discuss in a place like this.
And, much to my surprise, it broke my writer's block and the story is unfolding in front of me. I know how to deal with the main character's grief for the loss of his beloved wife and carry the story of founding the final of the 21 missions at the same time.
I've read endless threads on writer's block and that short period in a chapel sure got rid of mine.
Back to work!

He's Gone

“Poppi! Buddy's gone! Wake up.”

The words don't quite register but I struggle from sleep and swing my feet to the floor.

“Hurry. He's not here.”

Has that blasted dog jumped the wall again​? How can he get over a 7 foot wall with an additional foot of fencing atop that? And why?

I manage to get my sweats on and slip my feet into a worn pair of slippers. As my wife gets ready, I have time to slip a coffee container into the micro to heat it up. I don't care that it was last night's brew. While it's being nuked, I grab my cane and slide open the door to the patio and call his name. “Buddy! Come here baby.”

No response. No wriggly body with wildly wagging tail and slurpy tongue to greet me.

I walk around to the back, still calling.

No response.

It's still an hour before dawn and too dark to see how he got out. As soon as my wife's dressed, we prepare to leave. I step out onto the driveway and call.

Still no response.

We spend the next hour driving up and down streets search for a brown Pit Bull mix with a white blaze, white paws and a white tip at the tail. Up and down streets on both side of the main avenue.

Nothing.

We finally give up and return home. My wife calls one of our boys and, when he has a chance, he also checks the neighborhood.

No luck. No sign.

It's 24 hours since he left and another search this morning came up empty.

It hurts.

You really don't appreciate the spot in your heart that four-legged creature holds. He can't speak but he's just like a human child. He understands you and looks to you for nourishment. He gives unbridled love. He lets you know when someone approaches the house and warns when he thinks it's necessary. Especially such dangerous creatures like the blackbird that spent all last summer tormenting him. Or those darned cats that come to tease him. [That's probably why he went over the wall – chasing a cat.]

What are we gonna do without him?

We're off to check the shelter, praying he's there.

If he isn't?

And, he wasn't.

So, now what? 

Coming down off the high

Now I know why it's so damned hard for addicts to give up their high.
It wasn't that much by most measures but, for me, it was a first. Due to the high pain level, the doc put me on a narcotic called Percoset. It didn't really help that much and an ER doc gave me an oral steroid. That didn't help all that much so the first doc upped it a notch to Oxycodone!
Wow! Somewhere at 30,000 feet.
But, you ain't gonna believe this - that didn't help all that much either. It also brought on a lack of appetite - a good thing as I sure need to lose weight. Dry mouth. Unable to sleep.
So then, he puts me on a table and jams a very large needle into my spine with a steriod.
Aaaaaa, what a relief.
So, no more pain meds. Uh, at least no more than a couple of Tylenols now and then.
Have had the shakes ever since. Can't sleep all that well - except on my lounge chair. Even have a heck of a time typing this.
And - guess what? - the pain's still there.
Well, at least now it's only a 2 or 3 on the 10 point scale and I can live with that.
You hear about people who suffer from rheumatoid arthritis and never understood just how much suffering it entails. AND, THEY AIN'T A WHOLE LOT WE CAN DO ABOUT IT! It's part of growing old and all or most of us are gonna get it!
So, time for some changes.
     Lose some weight - ease the pressure on the lower spine.
     Good ole fish oil and diet change.
     Exercise - which I already do a bit - but not enough.
     And be smart - don't strain things to make 'em worse.

Sure like to hear from any of you out there who've been through it and how you deal with it.