Just A Coincidence...

I'm finding that the only time I have to post nowadays are Saturday mornings, when the house is half asleep, and I have my morning coffee at my side. My husband Rich is sitting on the couch watching his recorded T.V. programs, and I'm tapping away on the computer. Quiet uninterpreted time. Before I hear: "Mommy!" I better continue while I can.

Earlier this week my cousin, Carlos--the college professor, historian and writer, posted the above picture on his wall on Facebook. Carlos is the little boy in the picture. He is standing between my mother who is looking to the right, and his mom, Fatima. The woman on my mother's left, holding on to her arm, is Fernanda, a family friend, and the woman on the other side of Fatima, is my dear aunt, Aida. I had never seen this picture before, so I printed it out and showed it to my mom, the first chance I could get.

The story behind this picture is interesting to me. According to my mom, this picture was taken at Fatima's house before my mother was married to my dad--she is about 18 here, and the man behind the camera is my father. I find this very interesting because my dad had just met my mom for the first time when she was 15, so this was taken during his second military stop on the island three years later while wooing my mother with love letters. I guess my mom finally wrote him back before this picture was taken. My dad would write letters to my mom in English, and her cousin, Fatima's husband, would translate them to her. After many unanswered letters, I guess my mom finally responded! Fernanda started visiting my mom more often after my mom starting "dating" my father because her father was a cousin of my dad's, and would accompany him sometimes with her dad for visits. I guess she was like a sort of chaperone? In the 1950's that was the norm. The year must have been early in the year, 1953? It would explain the winter clothes, and why my mother is wearing her "blue gabardine" coat. My mom went on to explain that during that time, she was fulfilling her mother's "promesa" and was wearing her white dress underneath.

My grandmother's promesa: When my mother was 8 years old, she became extremely ill. I'm not sure what type of sickness she was ailing from, I just know that it was a fever that eventually sent her to the hospital. As a result of the fever, my mom lost all her hair. My grandmother was understandably upset, she had lost two babies previously before my mom was born, and her own husband had died when my mom wasn't even a year old. My mom had actually stopped breathing at one time in her home, and the doctor who was visiting at the house pronounced her dead. This sent my grandmother running out of the house into her garden crying for a miracle to the Virgin Mary to save her daughter. Believe what you may, but the doctor met her outside, and told her that my mom was breathing again, and that is when she was sent to the hospital. The doctor who was tending my mom called it nothing less than a miracle. As a result, my grandmother then made a "promesa" : a promise to the Virgin that my mom would wear a white dress and blue ribbon (what the Virgin Mary wore when she appeared in Fatima, Portugal). My mother would have to wear this attire for approximately one year in Mary's honor.

Well, years when on, and my mother never full filled her mother's promesa, so finally at 18, my mother decided to wear the white dress and blue ribbon for a year. She didn't want to fulfill her promesa when she was a married woman. Her God-Mother also made a promesa to Santa Teresa, which involved wearing a brown dress for a year (an idea that my mom did not like at all), but the village priest gave her permission to only fulfill one promesa. My father must have seen her wearing her white dress and blue ribbon, but had forgotten about it until many, many years later, when my father was in the hospital, and was, in the hospital nun's own words: "At the gates of heaven." He came back from being out of consciousness, to tell my mom that he had seen her wearing that white dress and blue ribbon in his dreams. My mom was astonished. My dad had been so forgetful lately, he could hardly remember where he last put his shoes, to remember something that happened 40 years previous, was incredible. It did give my mother peace of mind that things were going to be alright, which prompted her to make her own promesa, but that is another story.


Will post again soon---I need to make breakfast now!

The Madness Begins!

Unbelievably, the year is coming to an end. It's that time again where the stores are stocking up on their Christmas supplies of wreaths and stockings, and sweaters and coats. I took a little trip to the mall yesterday, and it was nice to see all the left over Halloween decorations finally taken down. Christmas is everywhere at the stores now---the commercial Christmas anyway. I found myself going down the aisles with my cart at Target, looking at all the "necessities" of the holiday season, wondering to myself, "Should I start shopping for Christmas? Should I stock up on these cute little stocking stuffers before they run out?" The anxiety has started, and it's a cruel game the retailers are playing! And it's not at the store either, it is at home as well! My mailbox was filled with sales magazines and coupons of important "DO NOT MISS SALES", and all of them have deadlines! My computer email has 230 messages, most of them from telling me the same, with the subject matter starting with: "Hurry! Sales Ends Soon!" or "Don't Miss This One!" It's getting a little overwhelming.

I confess, I bought two presents already. I'm just waiting for the Christmas paper that I bought from my son's Christmas fund raising drive to arrive so I can start wrapping. But where I'm I going to put them once I do? I don't have a tree yet, but I bet those neighbors that live two blocks away, who have their Christmas lights up already, have theirs up! (crazy people--wait until Thanksgiving--I still have pumpkins and scare crow on my porch, you are making us all look bad!) I probably have some wrapping paper in the attic though, along with my boxes and boxes upon boxes of Christmas stuff. I stopped myself from buying some REALLY cute Christmas plates yesterday. They are still on my mind: The smiling Santa Christmas candy dish is still calling out my name, and the snowman cookie dish, and those cute little Christmas tea kettles-the Christmas tree one, and the one with a squirrel... They are still on my mind, and it's driving me crazy... I confess.

What happened to just a nice simple Christmas? No deadlines...no madness, just plain old fashioned fun, and spiritual joy?

I remember one of those long ago. Let's go back to 1981, shall we? It was the year I took the picture at the top of this page. That year we spent Christmas in the Azores, and I remember the simplicity of it like it was yesterday. The choir group from the church would come to our door, with their violins and guitars and sing for "Menino Jesus" (baby Jesus), and we would give them all sweets and liquor. And we would eat sweets and liquor, and everyone had rosy cheeks and big smiles on our faces! It was apparent that they were purposely following my sister around, so there were many giggles; it was pretty humorous. (No one knows what happened to that secret love powder she lost in the church the Sunday before---that is another story in itself.)

It was a nice, cold Christmas that involved old fashioned values--like being with family, going to mid-night mass, opening a few presents around the tree, and later celebrating the new year, dancing until 3 am in the morning, and getting really dizzy from too much champagne. I still remember seeing my mother's room spin on New Years Day, and I think the neighbors rather enjoyed are laughter at 4 am, even though we apparently woke them up. It all gave them something to talk about the next day. We were there for their entertainment. We went to my cousin's high school dance in the city of Angra, and I wore the gold stitched burgundy shoes my mom got me for Christmas, along with that creme colored, gold stitched, gold belted, dress. (It was 1981/82 gold stitching was IN back then--if you wore it you were automatically cool, okay. OH, and if you wore Lois jeans, you were even cooler.) You remember these details when you are 15 years old--back then they seemed to be very important. I didn't get to dance with the guy I had a huge crush over because apparently he went to another dance looking for me there. Sorry, Luis... Oh well, but I got to dance with the cutest guy I've ever seen on the island. His name was Silvano, and little did I know he was my ex-husband's very best friend. I didn't know my ex-husband at the time--oh well, small island. It was just one dance, and a nice kiss on New Years Day, and good thing, cause later I learned he got in trouble with the law that sent him to prison. OH well, a pretty face isn't everything is it?

I have no idea why I'm remembering all that right now, but it sometimes is fun to look back. It was the first Christmas we spent without my dad or my brother around, and that was pretty sad, but my father sent us all cards-which was very unlike my him. He must have missed us very much that year. My father never was a very sentimental person, until he got much older, but I made a point of keeping that card. We didn't have a phone at the house--we would have to go to a cousins house or my aunts house to make a call, no internet, only the mail that usually didn't get there until 3 weeks later. People just don't send letters in the mail anymore. If you sent me a letter, I probably have it still. It was a bittersweet Christmas, but it was nice, and no one really cared what they got, as long as there was some gold stitching somewhere. I remember going shopping with my sister for a gift for my mom, and we found her a really beautiful scarf with blues and greens, and white polka dot, along with gold stitching... My daughter found it later in a drawer somewhere, and she likes wearing it now. See---gold never goes out of style.

Sigh... Looking back on all this is keeping me sane today. I swear, I'm not going to shop online for the rest of the day, no matter how BIG the sale is, even if I can save over 60% on select clearance items. No, I refuse. Black Friday is swiftly approaching. Are you going? Are you going to be part of the madness? Are you going to stand in line at 4 am in the cold for the doors to open? Or are you going to sit in the glow of your computer monitor? I may just wake up the neighbors and watch the room spin--I haven't seen it do that for awhile now.

Footsteps From Beyond

Happy Halloween everybody!

I've decided to re-tell a true family story that happened quite a few years ago. It didn't happen on Halloween, but on another cold and winter night. When my mother first told me this story, I got chills and goose bumps all over. When you personally know the people involved in the story, it is even more bizarre, but lots of odd and unexplained things have happened in my family, so why am I really surprised by it, I don't know. 

It was a cold, rainy night, and Tia Rosa had just managed to get all of her children to sleep. Her six children were more restless that evening, so Rosa decided to stay with them and sleep in a bed beside them. She had really enjoyed being with her children that night because she was feeling lonely, more than usual. Cold and rainy evenings like these were especially hard for Rosa. She had lost her husband only a year previous, and the nights were still hard.  She felt more alone than ever when the children were feeling restless. She wondered if  they could sense her own fears and doubts.  Raising them all alone without her husband by her side was not easy, and the absence of their father was heart wrenching.

After finally kissing her children goodnight, she started reciting her rosary, softly sobbing to herself. Understandably it wasn't the first time she had done this. At the end of the each day she often felt overwhelmed with life. Her children gave her the strength to carry on during the day, but the quiet nights alone, without their chatter, were sometimes unbearable. She cried out to her husband, Francisco, like she would often do, and prayed that one day he would respond to her. Perhaps he could give her a small sign of hope that her situation would get better.  She needed to know that he was still there watching after all of them.

As she lay there upon her corn husk mattress, sobbing quietly, a strange quietness come over the loft. The soft rain that had been softly tapping on the window had suddenly stopped, and now the moon shone into the room more brightly than ever before. The familiar sound of the crickets outside also ceased. The silence is almost too over bearing.  Rosa found herself feeling an unexplainable uneasiness now.  She quickly got up from her bed to shut off the small kerosene lamp sitting on the night stand, cautiously getting back into her bed carefully trying not to wake the children. She went back to lay there, listening in the quiet, waiting for the crickets outside to continue their evening song. The sound of the crickets helped her sleep but, now there was nothing.

The sudden quiet made her steadily feel more uneasy and perplexed. She was almost tempted to wake her oldest son, to only break the silence, but at the same time, she did not want to get out of bed. A sense of foreboding seemed to surround her in the room. Had her prayers to her dead husband been heard? She wondered, and trembled with the thought under her blankets. She tried to lay there in the quiet and sleep, until finally the silence in the room was broken. Something outside had caught her attention. She could hear a noise of some kind coming from outside.

She soon realized she was hearing the sound of footsteps, coming from the mouth of the road in front of her home. They were loud footsteps and they sounded as if they were stomping intentially in the puddles of mud left by the rain. They were deliberate footsteps of someone slowing marching outside, with a distinct slight drag in its step. She could distinctly recognize the footsteps, of a man-a man with a limp, very similar to the footsteps of her late husband.

Rosa could not believe what she was hearing or thinking! She tried to dismiss her fears, and tried to think rationally. Surely, it was not her dear husband Francisco! It must be a neighbor outside coming home from work, or perhaps it was a neighbor who loved to spend a late night drinking, or may be it was a large dog, or may be again it was all in her imagination; all in her head. Then again, may be it was all a dream. Perhaps she had fallen asleep and had not realized it. Rosa tried to relax, and decided to gather her rosary beads and recite her Hail Marys to calm her mind.

The footsteps did not cease however. From the sound of them, they had finally reached the front of her house. Rosa stopped her praying and waited patiently. She waited for the footsteps to walk past her house to her neighor Isabel's door. Rosa held her breath in silence. The footsteps continued. They did not proceed to her neighbor's door, but instead, they were heading down the walk way of Rosa's house, past the small veranda, heading slowly towards the kitchen door.

Rosa continued to pray, this time more loudly than ever, her rosary beads falling from her trembling fingers, until they finally fell onto the ground. Rosa quickly made the sign of the cross on her chest, and desperately called out to the Virgin Mary. She pleaded for the footsteps to stop, until suddenly, Rosa felt paralyzed with fear. She could no longer speak, her trembling lips were open, and her voice had all escaped her.  All along her children kept asleep, as if they had fallen into a spell themselves.  Rosa fell under utter shock, as the footsteps slowly made their way to the kitchen door. The knob of the locked door turned effortlessly, and it was now in the house, in Rosa's kitchen. The door closed quitetly, and the steps continued towards the loft.

Rosa quickly surveyed the room around her. Her children were all sound asleep, their angelic faces undisturbed by what was happening around her. Rosa was terrified! She called out to the stranger, who had now made it's way up the stairs to the loft, and told him to leave her home.

"Be gone with you!" She called out. "For the love of the Holy Spirit, please leave my home!"

The footsteps continued up the stairs. Rosa then called out to her late husband.

"Francisco! If this is you, I now know you are now with me. Forgive me for doubting myself! If this is not you Francisco, please demon set out of my home! For the love of our children, please leave us all in peace!"

Rosa let out a scream, and covered herself with her blankets. The footsteps were at the door now, and they were silent. Her children were quiet, all was quiet. And suddenly, the cricket outside of her window broke the silence outside. The crickets song seemed to thunder throughout the room, to a point to where Rosa held her hands over her ears. The anxiety of the evening was too much for Rosa to bear and called out to the Virgin for protection.

Following this, the sound of the footsteps again returned, but this time, they were rescending down the stairs. Slowly, proceeding down through the kitchen, out of the door, and back into the darkness. Gasping for breath, and in relief, Rosa continued to listen to the footsteps slowly leave her home, into the night towards the dirt road towards the river, stomping away in the wet mud outside.

Since that evening, Rosa never questioned her husband's prescence ever again. Although she never knew who had actually visited her that evening, she remembered the moment of peace she had felt early that next morning; a peace she had never felt since her husband's untimely death. The kitchen door was found locked that morning, and there was no evidence left on the floor of any visitor who may have come in from the rain. It may have been all a dream, it's true, but she was never certain. It was said she loved the sound of the evening crickets outside her window, and could not sleep at night until she heard the crickets sing.

Back to the keyboard..

Whew...

It's been awhile, please forgive me.

I have been using this line quite often lately. What can I say? Life has been particularly busy lately. It's funny really.. When life seems like it can't get even better, I always hear a little voice in my head telling me, "Okay, this is too good. What is going to happen now to screw things up?" I try to tell that voice to shut up, but it has a way of forewarning me for the not so best situations. Well, all I can say right now, is life has thrown a curve ball, but things are getting better. Let's just say mom keeps our lives exciting. She is back home and doing much better, the full leg cast has been cut off and disposed of, and as of late she is sporting a much more comfortable knee brace. She won't be sporting high heels anytime soon however, but that is okay. Summer has come to an end, the "festa" lights have been dimmed, and it's time to brace for winter.

As you have noticed, I've finally changed my blog picture. Sorry Manny for keeping up your picture up so long! It wasn't my intention. Instead I've posted a picture that was sent to me by my cousin Adelaide's sweet daughter. She's the little girl sitting on the wall covering her ears. I'm wearing the red dress, with my son Andrew standing next to me. Yes, this picture is at least 12 or 13 years old, but my dad is in it, and he looks good. This was taken in 1999, the last summer we were there together. Weird how many years have passed, although it doesn't seem that long ago. I was single back then; thank God those years are over. Don't get me wrong, they weren't the worst of times by any means--they were just lonely times. After a year of being "free" and single, I decided to date again, and damn, did I meet some real losers--but, hey--that's in my past. What matters now is i'm with the right guy.

The past makes us who we are. If given the opportunity, I wouldn't change it. I love who I am today. Sure there were some missed opportunities that I should have taken perhaps. For example that one interview for a technical writer. Yeah, may be I should have taken up that. But I have a good excuse: The man who called had such a think Asian accent I couldn't understand him. He gave me the address for the interview, but I couldn't understand a word of it. That's my excuse, and I know it isn't a good one, but I didn't get a phone #. Oh well. I wanted to be travel agent back then. No, that didn't pan out either... Oh well..

Back to the picture: This was taken during the church procession in Vila Nova, Terceira at my cousin's house. It's a custom to take out your most beautiful and colorful blankets and display them out of your windows or walls and verandas when the procession passes by your home. Please note: This blankets were made in old fashioned looms back in the day when people made them by hand. These aren't the blankets people normally sleep with today-they are kept in closets and bunks and taken out only during the summer time. I'm not quite sure WHY this is a tradition there, but it's one of the customs of the island. If you happen to know, please inform me. I'm sure it has something to do with showing off your best linens out of respect. I know my mother always took pride in having the first house in her neighborhood to hang out the laundry on the close line each morning. Apparently that was a big deal in the neighborhood. People would judge you back then about how white your laundry was, and my mom was very proud of her good reputation. Times have changed, but not really. I swear that washing machine at her house back there was working 24/7.

I'm looking outside my sliding door window, and it's grey, windy and cold out there. A good day to do some laundry, pull out the blankets from the closet. A good chance and opportunity to REALLY get back to the routine!

Have a good week!

Aguas Vivas = Jellyfish!

A jellyfish (agua viva) from the Azores. Basically, Agua Viva translate to alive water---due the transparency---hard to see in the water if you aren't paying close attention.

Is global warming the reason of the abundant amount of Cagarros and jellyfish to the island of Terceira? Some people think that it is, or it may be the result of the last large tsuami. From where I see it, it’s less chickens and more jellyfish!


At most all of the beaches and swimming spots on the island, you will see a large flag pole located at the center easily visible. The flag pole will have either a red, a green or yellow flag waving. Red indicates: lots of jellyfish. When you see a red flag waving, it’s best to stay out of the water, because the “salvadors do mar” (lifeguards) have spotted large quantities of jellyfish, aka: “agua vivas” in the water, and most likely more than one person has already been stung. If there is a yellow flag, it usually means, there were a few sightings of jellyfish, and to use caution. If you see a green flag waving, that means, no jellyfish sightings have been reported. Bottom line, however, don’t rely on the flag too much. If it’s green, that doesn’t mean it’s free and clear.

Sometimes the “salvadors do mar” just are too lazy to change the flag. The lifeguards we saw were a band of teenagers in bright yellow swimming shirts huddled together with their jellyfish nets and surfboards. They look especially cool wearing their Ray Bans, catching the summer rays. Now and then the would get up from their chairs, and actually go into the water, floating on their surf board, or walking near the water with their jellyfish nets on hand. Most of the time however, if a jellyfish is spotted, it's usually by a swimmer or by someone who just got stung. Once the lifeguard is alerted of the situation, he will change the flag, but again, that doesn’t always happen.

No one knows this better than “our friend” Roxanne. Roxanne made a surprise visit to the island, and stayed with us for a short time. Ironically, she was in the ocean for a period of time patrolling the waters for jellyfish, with a kind stranger she had befriended in the ocean. We all thought that Roxanne was looking for more than just a random jellyfish-if you know what I mean. Of course the man thought Roxanne was serious about getting “to know him better” as well, but Roxanne proved to be only a tease. We don’t know what Roxanne was thinking, because this guy looked like a very tan, plump, bald version of Elliot Goule. Whatever the reason, she was caught off guard and got stung not once, but twice by an agua viva on the two days we took her to the beach. May be it was due to the fact that poor Roxanne was very pale and her feet looked a little too appetizing for the jellyfish (agua vivas), or perhaps they thought she was one of their own? Whatever reason, she got stung, and the salvadors were less than sympathetic. They didn’t change the flag for her, but they did direct her to the numerous aloe plants surrounding the beach.

She was not the only person who fell victim to an agua viva! On the second day of the beach, Roxanne was more cautious, and stayed out of the water a little more and enjoyed the “sights”. One of the sights she was enjoying were the two men sun bathing to her right. Little did she know that those men she was admiring were in fact my ex-brother-in-laws. My cousin pointed them out to me, and while I and my son Andrew went over to talk to them, Roxanne volunteered to watch Nicholas in the water. Little did I know, her kindness would be rewarded by another sting of a agua viva. Of course I felt badly, honest I did. I could have offered Nicholas' assistance and have him pee on her sting, but I didn't my son would like the idea.

After I sat down helping her with more aloe plants, my ex-inlaws walked by and said goodbye in a hurry. Apparently another jellyfish had stung one of them on the chest. My poor ex-brother-inlaw was not very happy to say the least. That is when Roxanne confessed that she was admiring them from a far earlier. After she said this, I really didn’t feel too sorry for Roxanne. (I’ll have to write more about Roxanne in another entry-let’s just say it was an interesting visit.)

Still, the flag was still waving green, and the “salvadors” were still looking cool looking out into the ocean…


A Salvador do Mar, "hard at work..."

Cagarros - flying creatures that make weird noises

I'm posting this because the first video I shared didn't have sound--kind of defeats the purpose, hey? Well, make sure my music on the side is on mute as well, or you won't be able to hear the Cigarros.

This video I found on YouTube--not mine, but the lady is right, they sound like "flying frogs"...

Chickens, Roosters & Cagarros….Oh My…

Chicken and roosters are not as common as they used to be on the island. I remember distinctly there were a lot more here when I was a child. Both of my mother’s neighbors had a family of chickens, and often at times, when relatives and friends would visit us during the summer, there was always a “Tia” (aunt) of my mother’s who would either bring us a bag of sugar, or a chicken to give us fresh eggs in the morning. There was one chicken in particular that I was very fond of, I named her Jenny—but that is another story. Anyway, unfortunately, all of my mother’s Tias have since past away, and now I guess giving chickens is simply not done anymore. Whatever the reason being, they are still around, and the rooster still crows every morning starting at 4 am.



I know that the rooster crows at 4 am because I was always awakened by it every morning, at 4 am. This went on for the first two weeks of my stay. Apparently the rooster lived in the neighborhood, and it when it started crowing, the other rooster who lived on the other end of then neighborhood would then chime in afterwards. I swear these roosters were having a conversation among themselves. By 4:15 a third rooster from where I suspect was up the hill from my mom’s neighborhood would join it. The crowing would stop 10 minutes later, and then resume at 5 am. By the third week, I was so used to it, that I was able to sleep through it.

Yes it was hard to sleep sometimes at night. There were days that were so hot and humid, the kids wanted to go out at night to the beach and sit at the outdoor cafes, and grab a “galaos” “lattes”- it was our nightly ritual---galaos at midnight, sometimes later. You would be surprised how many people on the island are still out at night at that hour. We were definitely not alone. Coming home, afterwards, unable to sleep, and reading my summer reading selection: Anne Rice’s Interview With A Vampire, did not help of course. Oh yes, and don’t forget I was fighting a jet lag, of 7 hours difference from California time. Yes, I felt like a vampire, and would curse that rooster each morning at 4 am – I confess. If it wasn’t the rooster, it was my mother’s washing machine—but that is another story.

On the day we arrived to the island, my daughter and I decided to take a late night walk around my mother’s home in Vila Nova. It was a nice evening, and there weren’t very many people around, and I was kind of wondering why we were out there, but Lizzy insisted on exploring the little winding neighborhood streets, and I didn’t want her to go venturing out on her own. It was a nice, warm night under a full moon, and the sounds of the evening were soothing and a little unsettling…

We heard the dog barking madly across the street as we passed along side the tall cement wall of his backyard, and we could hear crickets, the soft clucking of hens, and the humming of the neighborhood street lights, and then out of no where we heard the strangest sound…

What was that?! I thought it was a goat at first, or may be a grunt of a pig, but it couldn’t be because it was coming from overhead. It had a strange alien like sound that I don’t remember ever hearing before! It sounded like…something saying: “Ke Hey, Ke Hey..” in a high pitched nasal voice. It kind of freaked us out, and we decided to head for home.




Later while watching fireworks on the 4th of July (there is an American military base on the island and we were able to watch fireworks) from my cousin’s porch we heard the sound again… “What is that sound?!” I asked my cousin, Adelaide. Apparently they are birds! They are called called “Cagarros”. (In Portuguese it closely resembles the word: cagado which is not a very nice word that basically means, someone who literally shit in his pants-excuse my vocabulary. They migrate to the Azores every spring and stay until winter. Like vampires, they usually only come out at night. They say that there has been more of them caused by the global warming problem. More cagarros AND more jellyfish--but that is another story I will write about next time.

I found this from YouTube, its from the RTP television station and it's taken from the neighboring island in the Azores, Sao Jorge. There was a rescue mission for "lost cagarros" and that is what the video is about. Hopefully you can see what the sound like by this video--enjoy!: