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Posts Tagged ‘Easter’

easter2

 

I’m setting this up to post to my blog in advance so that while I am on my cruise, it will post on May 3, 2013 … right on schedule. 

What’s ironic about the day is … I am scheduled to be in Maui then, snorkeling.  My 2nd son (my deceased son), Keegan, loved to swim.  Keegan loved to snorkel.  We did that on his Make-A-Wish trip with Disney Cruises in 2001.  Additionally, whenever he used to order fish at a restaurant, he would loudly say “fishy fishy” (you had to be there to get it, I suppose).  It all started because once when he was quite young, he had stated that’s what he wanted for dinner and it came out louder than he’d intended, causing the entire restaurant to laugh.  So he kept it up.  That means that now … whenever Roy and I snorkel … when we see our first fish … we have to bob up, look at the other, and yell “fishy fishy” over the waves to the other.  Like I said … you had to be there to get it.  It makes us laugh anyway.

In any event, I’m posting this on May 3, 2013.  Keegan was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis on May 3, 1984, 29 years ago, when he was just barely 2 months old.  I originally wrote this in 2001, right after my second child, Keegan, died, but it’s appropriate to me to post it now, at least in my not-so-humble opinion, as it gives a bit more of my history, my story, my background, and the challenges my family and I have encountered over the years.

I only wish that Roy could have met Keegan face-to-face in person.  He knows him spiritually … but he never got to meet him in real life.  I am forever grateful, however, that Roy honors the memory of my son with me and allows me to continue to grieve his loss or celebrate his life/spirit whenever I need to do so.  In my opinion, that shows a true partner, a true soul-mate, and a true man.

Keegan … we miss you still and always will.

So … with that … carry on …

*~*~*

2001

“The nurses at Stanford University Medical Center see a lot of transplant patients, but they will never forget the kid with the green hair.”  Dolores Fox Ciardelli in an article that was written for a small local weekly newspaper called the “Pleasanton Pathways” wrote this.  When Keegan was born 17 years ago on February 29, 1984 (yes, Leap Day), I never ever thought this would be something closely associated to my family.  At the time he was born, I didn’t even know what Cystic Fibrosis was, let alone worry about transplant.  Transplants were those things they tried and experimented with but were only for those “other people” that had illness in their family.  I didn’t have that.  My family had always been healthy.  And green hair?  My family wasn’t into odd colored hair.

It was a long time before I had to worry about any of this.  People think now that just because Keegan received a double lung transplant at the ripe old age of 16 means that his health had been crummy since he was a baby.  He had a rough start to his life, but once he was diagnosed, things were great since we knew the problem, and the main reason that he had been diagnosed with CF very young was due to the perceptiveness of a young and competent pediatrician just out of training that had done rotation with a CF team as an intern and resident.  Let me back up though.

Keegan was born on 02-29-84.  It was an emergency cesarean because of the size of his head to my pelvis.  He was a big and well-formed baby with good weight (8-lbs. 11 oz). I have another son (Logan) that is 15½ months older than him, so I had quit work for a while to stay home with my two babies.  I was 29, almost 30.  Things were great.  The c-section, although to me seemingly awful, really was flawless. He had huge brown eyes and lots of straight blonde hair.  He was angry from the minute they pulled him out, especially since they had to suction his lungs, since he’d sucked in amniotic fluid, which is common, apparently, with c-sections.  He had minor issues at birth and went home seemingly healthy to the doctors. 

However, to me, something seemed “wrong”.  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but Keegan didn’t seem to eat properly.  Logan had always eaten like a horse and had gained weight magnificently on my breast milk.  Keegan, on the other hand, would suck a very short time and then scream and scrunch up.  His bowels seemed ok but a bit sticky.  Oh well.  It cleared, and then it seemed like any newborn on breast milk … but something still seemed wrong to me.  He didn’t eat right.  I was told that I was just being a nervous mother and not remembering how newborns could be.  This didn’t seem right to me.  Logan is only 15½ months older than he is.  I remembered too well how much Logan ate and how he had thrived on my milk.  Keegan did not.  Oh well.  He’s a different individual.  Perhaps I just need to learn his body needs and personality.

Things seemed ok when we got home, but he still didn’t eat right.  His diapers got runnier and runnier and looked like milk was just on a direct pipe from his mouth to his diaper.  I went to his 2-week-old check-up.  He’d gained no weight.  The doctor looked a bit concerned but told me that this happened on occasion and that perhaps my milk wasn’t good enough.  I listened, but this didn’t seem right to me either.  Logan was 9½ lbs. at birth.  He was 30 lbs. at 1 year.  This was on my breast milk.  How could it be that much different?   He wrote down “failure to thrive”.  Go home and try to feed him more often.  I fed.  He vomited it back up. Ok, well, we’ll try to see how much milk he takes in.  They measured.  It was a lot.  Go home.  Feed him slower but often.  He wouldn’t eat, or he’d throw up.  Ok, then, we’ll see if it seems rich enough.  It did.  Maybe it’s too rich.  It wasn’t.  Ok, then, we’ll try additives and formula.  No good.  “Failure to thrive.”

About two days before Easter, he came down with a really awful cold that his father, his brother, and I all had gotten.  We were all coughing.  So was Keegan.  No big deal.  This was a respiratory thing.  It’ll go away.  Easter.  He was feverish and sick.  I called the doctor.  I met him at his office.  They prescribed some oral antibiotics.  Easter Sunday.

We were giving him the antibiotics.  The rest of us were improving.  He wasn’t.  He was getting worse.  May 3, 1984.  I brought him to the doctor.  He sent us to the hospital for tests.  “Don’t worry.  It’ll be ok.  We just need to see what’s going on.”

May 3, 1984.  His dad came to the hospital after work.  I had gone there from the doctor’s office.  My mother was home babysitting Logan while I went to the doctor with Keegan.  Logan was sick.  My sister came to help out, and my mom came to see what was going on at the hospital.  The pediatrician was there telling me that they would be running routine tests in the morning.  It was a hot day – unseasonably hot for May.  We were at John Muir Memorial Hospital in Walnut Creek, CA.  Keegan’s dad, Mark, picked him up and gave him a kiss.  He said “God, you’re a sweaty boy.  You are really salty.”  I saw a look pass over the doctor’s face that I knew wasn’t good, but I didn’t know what it meant.  I’ve since learned not to like that look when I see it.

Anyway, he mentioned a bunch of tests they wanted to run.  I don’t recall what most of them were other than they were mundane, and I recognized them, and they didn’t seem like a big deal.  In the middle of all the things he mentioned, he also stated “cystic fibrosis”.  “What the heck is that???”  “Don’t worry about it.  It’s probably nothing.  We just want to rule everything out.  I wouldn’t bother checking medical journals.  They won’t tell you much.”

I spent the night in a chair in the hospital by my baby’s side.  His dad went home to take care of Logan and to call his other grandmother to come watch him, since I’d be at Muir with Keegan.  She came.  He went to work the next morning.  They had Keegan in a mist tent.  They had him hooked to oxygen.  They took blood.  They took stool and urine.  They did a strange little gauze test to collect sweat on his arm.  They told me to keep him in his room, because they didn’t want him to infect anyone else if he had something.  They discovered he had no bacteria growing.  That’s a good thing, they said.

The next morning (May 4, 1984) about 10AM, Tracy Trotter, our regular pediatrician, appeared in the doorway of the hospital room.  “Jill, I need to talk to you.”  Keegan was lying in a crib near me.  We were in a double room, but the little kid with the broken leg had left a bit earlier.  I was alone.  His dad was at work.  “We are very certain that Keegan has something called ‘cystic fibrosis’, but you need to take him to Children’s Hospital in Oakland.”  “What is that?”  Go there.  They’ll explain it.  “I don’t know where it is.”  They gave me directions.  Why didn’t they send him and me, since I was close to shock, in an ambulance?  I’ll never for the life of me figure that out.  I called his father, Mark, holding myself together to get through his secretary until he picked up the phone.  Tracy Trotter was standing there hanging onto me.  I was sobbing in the phone.  Mark dropped everything and said, “I’m catching BART.  Pick me up.”  I cried on Tracy Trotter’s shoulder while he attempted to console me.  I didn’t even know what CF was.  Why was I crying?  I didn’t know.  I just knew whatever it was, was a big nasty thing.  I knew that they were upset, so I knew that I should be.  I knew something big time was wrong.  Tracy told me that things would be fine.  I’d learn to be a good CF mother and Keegan would be fine.  I remember yelling … “BUT I DON’T WANT TO BE A CF MOTHER.  I REFUSE TO BE A CF MOTHER.”  (Isn’t denial great … especially when you don’t know what you are denying???)

I packed up Keegan and his stuff and walked out of the hospital.  I remember someone saying to me “oh how wonderful that you get to bring your baby home”.  I remember just staring through them.  I remember them asking if I was ok.  I wanted to scream yes and no and anything but my mouth didn’t work.  I just kept walking.

I drove to BART.  From the time I got Keegan into his car seat to when I got to BART, I have no recollection.  It’s at least a 20 – 30 minute drive.  There’s nothing.  So I parked at BART.  Mark got off at the opposite end of the station from where I parked.  I was 4 long city blocks away.  He heard me scream for him over the city traffic and the passing BART trains.    I remember watching him run from the stairway he came off of to the car in his suit and tie, carrying a briefcase.  He was at a dead run.

Now here is where it’s interesting.  I don’t recall driving to Children’s.  I don’t recall getting there.  I don’t recall parking.  I don’t recall going into the hospital.  I don’t recall checking in.  I don’t recall going up in the elevator to the 5th floor where they kept the CF children then.  I don’t recall going into the room.  I remember meeting a family that we were sharing the room with.  They had experience with CF.  (This is when they still roomed CF patients together before they realized they shouldn’t.)  But they had “experience”.  Their daughter was 7 months old.  Wow.  They’d teach me.  The other baby’s father was watching the Kentucky Derby preliminaries.  My mother and my sister were at the hospital when we arrived.  I do remember that.  I remember a doctor showing up in our room … Dr Nickerson was his name.  I didn’t like him from the word “go”, but then I wouldn’t have liked anyone at that point.  I remember him taking us to an empty conference room on the 2nd floor in the Pulmonary Department.  The Kentucky Derby preliminaries were on an overhead TV in the room.  He sat down and clinically explained CF to us.  I was a bit stunned and in shock.  I remember forcing myself to be with Keegan while they worked at getting IV’s in his arm.  It took several tries.  He screamed the whole time.  I sobbed.  They tried to drag me out.  I remember telling them … screaming at them was more the case … that this was my baby, and they weren’t going to take him anywhere without me.  It finally got in.  They told me that I didn’t have to force myself through all that.  My sister and my mother could hear the screaming baby down the hall with me yelling too.  I told them I had to force myself through it when he was an infant so that when he was older and needed his mommy as a toddler to sit there, I could do it and not fall apart or faint or whatever.  I made it.

The next day (Saturday, May 5, 1984), Dr Nickerson showed up again.  He talked to us in the room this time.  “Your baby is malnourished, dehydrated, and anemic.  Both lungs have collapsed.  We may have to do a blood transfusion.”  The Kentucky Derby was playing in the background.  “He may die.  He’s not at all well.  Why haven’t you brought him into any doctor before now?”  I nearly fell apart with that accusation.  We’d been in and out of doctors’ offices since he was born … but … I held together.  He had my child’s life in his hands.  I needed to keep it together.  I remember telling him to not do a transfusion and to only do one from someone I picked if they really had to.  This was when blood supplies could still be tainted with AIDS, because they were still figuring that out.  That’s all I’d need. 

I still can’t fathom how I got from Muir to Children’s on my own.

On Monday morning, May 7, 1984, John McQuitty took up ward duties in the hospital.  He came in and asked how I was.  He asked how Keegan was.  He asked how Logan and Mark were.  He asked if I was sleeping yet.  He told me it was ok to cry.  He told me that he wanted my input on Keegan’s well-being, because, while I might not understand CF yet, I lived with Keegan 24 hours a day and would know him as an individual better than any doctor would.  He listened to me answer questions.  He could tell I was holding myself together.  He could tell I was “staying strong”, because that’s the way I was taught to handle any challenge in life.  “Don’t show your weaknesses.  Don’t cry.  Don’t show your dirty laundry.”  He told me it was ok to cry.  He listened to me.  John McQuitty saved my sanity.

The Kentucky Derby.  Easter.  They still make my stomach and my head do weird flips.  Just the topic can make my stomach clutch up.  Only a CF parent or those that have been through hearing that they themselves or a loved one have CF (or any other major life-changing, life-threatening illness) will understand that certain days and certain events will always remind them of when they heard.  The Kentucky Derby.  Easter.  It’s odd that good days like those can make my stomach clutch and turn inside out.

 

 

 

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Easter Sunday is a very holy day for Christians around the world.  It’s also a day of feasting in celebration of the Resurrection.  We’ve eaten way more than our share of a hearty Easter dinner … and of course, candy and colored eggs, as we have shared in blog-posts prior to Easter.

While I have made it my goal to maintain my health and be in relatively good shape for someone that will be 60 years old in a little more than a year, I still enjoy my food.

food 

At least with food, you can usually guarantee that you’ll like your choices.

In any event, we will be going on vacation (on a cruise, to be exact) in a little less than a month (not that I’m counting down the days or anything … but we’re leaving precisely 23 days from today).  Cruises are known for their opulent and overly abundant food choices.  I’m quite sure that Princess Cruises will not disappoint in this respect.  Therefore, I can pretty much guarantee that I will be indulging while gone.

That’s ok, though, as I’ve at least worked hard to get into shape over the past year, and I can work just as hard after I return from the cruise to take care of any “overage” that I cause myself to gain.  Besides …

 overweight

I mean … I wouldn’t want to be TOO outrageously attractive on this cruise to Hawaii out of San Francisco, CA (and back).

 

 

 

 

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Easter

So … do you bite off the ears or the tail first?

More to the point and the more crucial question here …

Do you have any Easter candy left on this day after Easter?

 

 

 

 

 

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For Easter dinner, rather than having something “traditional” like ham or lamb, I chose to do something different this year. It’s an “old favorite” and a very easy “comfort food”. It’s called “Beef Bourguignonne”.

*~*~*

*~*~*

Beef Bourguignonne

-dry red wine
-1/2 lb thinly sliced salt pork or bacon
-12 pearl onions or 4 shallots or 1 small onion
-2 lbs stew beef
-2 tblsp flour
-1 tsp salt
-4 peppercorns
-1/2 bay leaf
-1-2 garlic cloves, minced
-(1/2 tsp thyme or sweet marjoram
-(1 c sauteed mushrooms)

-Marinate beef overnight with wine. (Refrigerate while marinating.)
-Preheat oven to 325.
-Drain wine from beef before cooking but save wine for use in cooking the stew.
-Sauté salt pork or bacon with onion/leek until transparent and lightly crispy.
-Remove pork and onions from pan and reserve to the side.
-Cut stew beef into 1 inch pieces and sauté til light brown in hot pork fat.
-Sprinkle meat with flour and place in oven-proof/stove-friendly pan with salt, peppercorns, bay leaf, garlic, and thyme or marjoram.
-With the wine used to marinate the meat, take 3/4 wine to 1/4 water and put in enough to completely cover the meat.
-Bring to a boil.
-Once boiling, remove from stove, cover, and place in 325 oven.
-Cook for 2 hours.
-Place pork and onions on top of beef.
-Leave in 325 oven for another hour.
-For the last 10 minutes, you may add sauteed mushrooms if desired.
-Serve over mashed potatoes or wide egg noodles.
-Sprinkle with chopped parsley if desired.

Eat and enjoy!!!

*~*~*

I served this over mashed potatoes with steamed asparagus. It was an awesome Easter dinner!

*~*~*

This was posted from WordPress for BlackBerry on Jill’s BlackBerry. Carry on!

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This was posted from WordPress for BlackBerry on Jill’s BlackBerry. Carry on!

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Matthew 28: 1 – 20

The Resurrection

28 Now after the Sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And behold, there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. And for fear of him the guards trembled and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him. See, I have told you.” So they departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. And behold, Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came up and took hold of his feet and worshiped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.”

The Report of the Guard

11 While they were going, behold, some of the guard went into the city and told the chief priests all that had taken place. 12 And when they had assembled with the elders and taken counsel, they gave a sufficient sum of money to the soldiers 13 and said, “Tell people, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.’ 14 And if this comes to the governor’s ears, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.” 15 So they took the money and did as they were directed. And this story has been spread among the Jews to this day.

The Great Commission

16 Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. 17 And when they saw him they worshiped him, but some doubted. 18 And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

 

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If you have read much of my blogposts, you’ve figured out, I’m sure, that, while I have strong opinions and am not afraid to stand my ground, I am also a true kid at heart.  I guess it’s just because I learned how to have fun as well as how to be serious in the proper context.  What good is life if you can’t have a balance and know how to let go and be silly sometimes?

Anyway, at Easter, there is a particular Easter candy that is manufactured that I have always loved.  I could eat them until I made myself sick at Easter and still love them.  If my mother bought them or if the Easter bunny brought them, I’d eat as many as I could get away with before my mother would yell at me about it.  Even at almost 60 years old, I can still do this. 

What kind of candy am I talking about?  It’s one that has been around forever and people either love or hate. It’s very sweet and manufactured/sold in the USA and Canada.  Roy doesn’t like them.  That’s fine with me.  It just means that leaves more for me and I don’t have to fight him for them or horde them or steal them (like I did from my kids).

🙂

They’re inexpensive.  Hey … I’m a simple girl at heart.  Like I’ve said before … screw flowers and fancy things … give me ice cream, cookies, chocolate … and …

peeps

PEEPS!

 

Yes, I know.  They’re a kids’ candy.  They’re overly sweet (marshmallow covered in sugar … period).  They’re not healthy.  They don’t lend themselves to my diet.  However, what good is life if you can’t enjoy it and splurge on something like this every so often?  I’d find it incredibly boring.

So this time of year, when the Easter Peeps come out, I hafta have some.  I know they make some now for other holidays during the year, but I find that wrong.  They were originally only an Easter candy, and I have am a purist.  They’re just wrong other times of the year.  What can I say?

peep

Anyway, I love these little guys …

… and it doesn’t matter what color …

… but the chicks are the best …

…not the bunnies.

LOL

I know.

I’m warped.

So … along with that … and my love of simple desserts … when a friend of mine posted this picture … I just knew … this has to be my “Easter dessert”. 

IMG_20130314_0010856

Easter Smores

What could be better?

 

 

 

 

 

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Luke 22 – 24

Jesus Before Pilate

23 Then the whole company of them arose and brought him before Pilate. 2 And they began to accuse him, saying, “We found this man misleading our nation and forbidding us to give tribute to Caesar, and saying that he himself is Christ, a king.” 3 And Pilate asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” And he answered him, “You have said so.” 4 Then Pilate said to the chief priests and the crowds, “I find no guilt in this man.” 5 But they were urgent, saying, “He stirs up the people, teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee even to this place.”

Jesus Before Herod

6 When Pilate heard this, he asked whether the man was a Galilean. 7 And when he learned that he belonged to Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him over to Herod, who was himself in Jerusalem at that time. 8 When Herod saw Jesus, he was very glad, for he had long desired to see him, because he had heard about him, and he was hoping to see some sign done by him. 9 So he questioned him at some length, but he made no answer. 10 The chief priests and the scribes stood by, vehemently accusing him. 11 And Herod with his soldiers treated him with contempt and mocked him. Then, arraying him in splendid clothing, he sent him back to Pilate. 12 And Herod and Pilate became friends with each other that very day, for before this they had been at enmity with each other.

13 Pilate then called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, 14 and said to them, “You brought me this man as one who was misleading the people. And after examining him before you, behold, I did not find this man guilty of any of your charges against him. 15 Neither did Herod, for he sent him back to us. Look, nothing deserving death has been done by him. 16 I will therefore punish and release him.”

Pilate Delivers Jesus to Be Crucified

18 But they all cried out together, “Away with this man, and release to us Barabbas”—19 a man who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder. 20 Pilate addressed them once more, desiring to release Jesus, 21 but they kept shouting, “Crucify, crucify him!” 22 A third time he said to them, “Why, what evil has he done? I have found in him no guilt deserving death. I will therefore punish and release him.” 23 But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed. 24 So Pilate decided that their demand should be granted. 25 He released the man who had been thrown into prison for insurrection and murder, for whom they asked, but he delivered Jesus over to their will.

The Crucifixion

26 And as they led him away, they seized one Simon of Cyrene, who was coming in from the country, and laid on him the cross, to carry it behind Jesus. 27 And there followed him a great multitude of the people and of women who were mourning and lamenting for him. 28 But turning to them Jesus said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. 29 For behold, the days are coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the barren and the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’ 30 Then they will begin to say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us,’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us.’ 31 For if they do these things when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

32 Two others, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. 33 And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. 34 And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments. 35 And the people stood by, watching, but the rulers scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!” 36 The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine 37 and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” 38 There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.”

39 One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

The Death of Jesus

44 It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, 45 while the sun’s light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. 46 Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last. 47 Now when the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God, saying, “Certainly this man was innocent!” 48 And all the crowds that had assembled for this spectacle, when they saw what had taken place, returned home beating their breasts. 49 And all his acquaintances and the women who had followed him from Galilee stood at a distance watching these things.

Jesus Is Buried

50 Now there was a man named Joseph, from the Jewish town of Arimathea. He was a member of the council, a good and righteous man, 51 who had not consented to their decision and action; and he was looking for the kingdom of God. 52 This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. 53 Then he took it down and wrapped it in a linen shroud and laid him in a tomb cut in stone, where no one had ever yet been laid. 54 It was the day of Preparation, and the Sabbath was beginning. 55 The women who had come with him from Galilee followed and saw the tomb and how his body was laid. 56 Then they returned and prepared spices and ointments.

On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.

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Roy and I were out-of-town for our personal business ventures this past weekend in Denver, CO, where we experienced a spectacular snowstorm on Friday night and throughout most of Saturday.  (While Roy grew up in Maine, it’s nice to not have to deal with those blizzards on a day-to-day basis any longer.) 

Anyway, we got up Sunday morning at 4:00 AM Mountain Daylight Time to catch a flight back home and arrived at the Sacramento (CA) Airport at about 10:45 AM Pacific Daylight Time on Sunday morning so that we could race back to Placerville, CA, do laundry, cook for the week, and greet our animals that had been wonderfully taken care of by our marvelous pet/house sitter over the weekend.  We were then up Monday morning at 4:00 AM Pacific Daylight Time, only 23 hours since we’d left Denver (where it was 3 degrees Fahrenheit to the balmy 69 degrees Fahrenheit at home).  I worked a 10 hour day on Monday and Roy had an exam he had to take for the new “regular job” that he has, not getting home himself till well after 7:00 PM Pacific Daylight Time. 

Like I say, while we’re entrepreneurs at heart, right now, we have our “regular jobs” that we have to have in the meantime while we work our dreams.  To really be a success, you have to be willing to “go the extra mile” and give it all you have in life.

However, after weekends like the past (which was wonderfully productive financially, intellectually, and emotionally), suffice it to say that we are incredibly tired and are looking forward to having at least a day or two where we can sleep in and nap, which is our goal over this coming Easter weekend (when we also plan to stuff ourselves on Easter candy, just as we did when we were children).

easter bunny 

So … we will be using our “rollover” minutes this weekend, thank you very much (along with eating Peeps, Cadbury Eggs, Reese’s Eggs, Jelly Bellies, Malted Milk Balls, and Chocolate Bunnies).

  rollover nap

 Happy Easter, everyone!

 

 

 

 

 

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Matthew 21: 1-11

New International Version

 

Jesus Comes to Jerusalem as King

21 1As they approached Jerusalem and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go to the village ahead of you, and at once you will find a donkey tied there, with her colt by her. Untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, say that the Lord needs them, and he will send them right away.”

This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:

“Say to Daughter Zion,
    ‘See, your king comes to you,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
    and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’ ”

The disciples went and did as Jesus had instructed them. They brought the donkey and the colt and placed their cloaks on them for Jesus to sit on. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, while others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,

“Hosanna to the Son of David!”

“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”

“Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

10 When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred and asked, “Who is this?”

11 The crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.”

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We wish a peaceful Palm Sunday and a blessed Easter week to you all.

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