Author Archives: owonderful

Mission San Xavier – a love story for the ages

Standard

Better late than never?

Two weekends ago I was in Tucson, Arizona. As I read reports of 120 degree flight-cancelling weather in Arizona this week, I was SO GRATEFUL that it was a mere 104 degrees when my college friends and I were there.

We were up from sunrise to sundown…

IMG_3646

One early morning, we drove to Mission San Xavier del Bac, also known as the White Dove of the Desert. Situated on the Tohono O’odham Reservation, this Spanish Colonial building rises up like a miraculous white apparition in the middle of the desert.

IMG_0109IMG_3653

IMG_3700.jpgThe Mission was founded in 1692 by Father Eusebio Kino, a Catholic missionary of Italian descent, but the original mission was destroyed in an Apache raid. Eventually, Spanish Franciscans took over the Mission and the present building was built in its place between 1783 and 1797. Today it is an active parish that is still run by Franciscans and continues to serve the Tohono O’odham tribe for and by whom it was originally built.

It is a constant battle and labor of love to maintain the Mission, which is buffeted by a harsh and punishing climate. A film playing on endless loop in a side room at the Mission documents the latest major renovation that happened over five or six years in the 90s, when it was discovered that the cement used to stucco over the exterior was absorbing and trapping water. All of the cement had to be picked away and replaced. The conservators consulted with artisans in Mexico who taught them how to make the more breathable stucco that had originally coated the church. I was fascinated to learn that the recipe calls for just sand, lime, and the juice of prickly pear cactus! The emergency repairs to the exterior were just the beginning…

Tim Lewis was a young man from the Tohono O’odham Reservation who was drifting from job to job, doing drugs, and drinking too much when a call was put out for apprentices to begin work on a major interior restoration. Like many a father of wayward sons, his dad urged him to go out and get a job. Lewis showed up at the Mission without a resume and without any guile:

I told them I couldn’t paint, I had no art background at all and I didn’t even like art in school…I told them I hated school and I didn’t know why I was there, and I wasn’t even qualified for this at all. (Tim Lewis is quoted in Cindy Somers’ “San Xavier Restoration” article in Tucson Citizen)

In what I think can only be ascribed to some sort of divine miracle – he was hired.

Lewis says that working on the Mission saved his life. He got clean and sober. He gained a sense of purpose to his life. Eventually, the Mission led him to love. He was sent to Europe to learn from professional conservators. On his first day in Salzburg, he met Matilde Rubio, a conservator from Spain. With obvious love in his voice and a small smile playing on an otherwise impassive face he says, “If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t have ever married anyone.” Rubio moved to Lewis’ village where they married and together they rejoined the crew working on the Mission. The two now travel together and work side by side on restoration projects around the world

IMG_3675

IMG_3672IMG_3660IMG_3665

IMG_3662

Saint Kateri Tekakwitha (1656-1680), the first Native American saint in the Roman Catholic Church.

The art of conservation is as an act of devotion. The conservator must never assert his or her own artistry, but rather must try to understand and recreate the original artist’s vision. This guiding principle necessitates the renunciation of ego and painstaking labor. To restore peeling frescoes, for example, a dot of adhesive was painstakingly applied by syringe behind each tiny flake of paint, until it absorbed the glue and relaxed back into the wall. The story of humans fighting against the elements and the march of time to protect and maintain a thing of beauty strikes me as a love story for the ages.

Scattered to the four winds…

Standard

On Friday my husband and oldest son traveled by sleeper car to his weeklong music composition workshop in Illinois.

IMG_0229IMG_0249

Yesterday morning my daughter and I dropped off Boy #2 at the airport at 5 am. He is now somewhere in Colorado on a pilgrimage with his Sunday School class. We are keenly missing him today as it is his 15th birthday!
IMG_0222

My girl and I made a lightning strike visit to Arlington to see my parents and to wish my dad a Happy Father’s Day.

IMG_0235

We tried to get him to smile for a special Father’s Day picture and this is what happened:

IMG_0244

My mother, observing all of this from her couch throne, commanded him to smile in her most imperious tone and this is what happened:

IMG_0245

Happy Father’s Day, Dad and Happy Father’s Day, Colin. You’re both my favorites.

 

 

 

Friday in Arizona

Standard

I had never been to Arizona and was surprised by how different it was. I may as well have been in a different country…

IMG_3553

The middle school my kids have gone to looks nothing like this one!

Or maybe even a different planet with alien life forms…IMG_3596IMG_3599

I’m so disappointed I didn’t get a picture of the two scorpions who terrorized us in our airbnb house.

 

On Friday morning we went to the Tohono Chul Park Botanical Garden & Galleries at the foot of the Santa Catalina mountains.IMG_3558IMG_3555The gardens were filled with cactus and wildlife…

IMG_3561Here’s a fun fact! Those iconic saguaro cactus can live for hundreds of years. They don’t grow their first arms until they reach about 70 years old. We saw birds feasting on ruby wreaths of fruit that crowned the tops of some of them. Birds nested in holes in the sides of the cactus.

Others just plopped their nests right on top of the prickly spines:

IMG_3571…which just goes to show you that you can find a home in the unlikeliest of places.

IMG_3564

Southwest Coral Bean

IMG_3566.jpg

Jimson Weed

IMG_3579

Bougainevillea

IMG_3573

Two rare desert flowers.

IMG_3581

Desert Willow

The garden was humming and buzzing and rustling with all kinds of wildlife, from jackrabbits to…

IMG_3567

Let’s play “Spot the Critter”:

IMG_3562IMG_3586IMG_3595.jpgIMG_3602We cooled ourselves off in the bistro with Arnold Palmers mixed with pink prickly pear lemonade…

IMG_3606

In the afternoon we headed to the DeGrazia Gallery in the Sun. Ettore (Ted) DeGrazia (1909-1982) was an American artist who is probably best known for his paintings of Native American children. To be honest I didn’t love his art, but I was impressed by the Gallery in the Sun, built so his paintings would have a place where they would “feel good inside.” A self-taught architect, DeGrazia designed and built a whole complex of adobe structures in the 1950s with the help of Yaqui and Tohono O’odham friends. Other than the gallery, the complex includes his own house and the Mission in the Sun –  a chapel which was unfortunately closed to visitors because of a very recent fire. The complex is now on the National Register of Historic Places.

IMG_0094

IMG_3609

In one area of the gallery, DeGrazia used slices of cactus embedded in concrete as flooring.

IMG_0090The cactus courtyard was filled with an unearthly, metallic thrumming.

IMG_3614IMG_3615

Old Friends…

Standard

Earlier this week we spent an evening with friends.

IMG_0189We were celebrating the 12th birthday of their daughter. Our girls met each other as toddlers in the Little Sisters Preschool in our old neighborhood. When I did the math, I realized our girls have been friends for a whole decade: a marvel!

IMG_8031When I was a child, my family blew around from town to town like tumbleweeds, wherever the winds and my father’s schooling or career took us. At my daughter’s age, I had moved six times and had never been in one place long enough to make lasting friends.

One of the great joys of finally settling down has been the ability to forge friendships with longevity. It makes me happy to think that my kids will have friends they’ve known since they were tiny. Although I’ll never have that experience, I am delighted and amazed to have friends I’ve known for decades.

Last week I spent a long weekend in Tucson, Arizona with some of those friends. A few years ago my college friends began getting together once a year. Three out of the four of us live on the East Coast, but Debbie moved to Alaska and has missed all of our reunions. This year, we made a special effort to plan our reunion around her already scheduled visit with her daughters to Arizona.

“Hey! I was your age when I met your mom for the first time!” I exclaimed to her 17 year old, whom I had just met for the first time. “Your mom was so sweet, she took me out for dinner for my first birthday away from home. Your poor mom! I was so homesick, I cried the whole time!”

That was then:

SCAN0005

After our first year, we moved out of the dorms and into an apartment over a clothing store called Rosey Jekes.


SCAN0002

If I learned anything in college, it was that a side bun is never a good idea.

This is now:

IMG_3656IMG_0119

More on Arizona tomorrow…

 

 

 

Us Vs. the Groundhogs

Standard

IMG_0072Last year a couple of fat groundhogs moved into our backyard. I wasn’t too concerned about this development until I saw the deep burrows they made under the barn and run-in shed. Internet research alerted me to the fact that these burrows can undermine the foundations of structures to the point of collapse.

IMG_0057

My first thought was to shovel rocks into the holes. Apparently a lot of people come up with this simplistic idea. Alas, the sages of the interwebs universally declare this to be a useless endeavor that will only cause the groundhogs to dig more holes. Furthermore, they shake their heads and roll their eyes while they do it.

IMG_0068

Last fall I bought a solar-powered stake you pound into the ground near the burrow. The stake is supposed to vibrate in such a way as to scare the rodents away. We followed the instructions to the letter, and miraculously – it seemed to work! The groundhogs disappeared.

They disappeared because they retreated to their love nest under our barn. They made love all winter long to the sexy ultrasonic vibrations of the groundhog repeller stake. This spring they reemerged to lay waste to our yard…with four new babies in tow.

Groundhogs 1/Us 0

It was time to get control over the situation. I called up the professionals and explained the situation.

“Yes, we can certainly help you with the groundhogs,” the pest control man said reassuringly.

“Fabulous!” I said, congratulating myself on my quick thinking and decisive action.

“We have two different kinds of traps we use. We would bait either kind with cantaloupe.”

“Mmmhmmm…”

“One is a Havahart trap. It might be hard to catch the babies, but we’d do our best…The other is a kill trap – ”

I didn’t need to hear another word.

“Oh, DEFINITELY the Havahart trap is what we would want.”

“Well…the thing is: it would be illegal for us to catch and release them, so even if we caught them with the Havahart traps, we would still have to euthanize them once we caught them.”

I’m many things, but I’m not a murderer. Especially not a baby murderer…

 

IMG_0065 2

Groundhogs 2/Us 0

The other day my daughter tried to scare away a groundhog by running towards it. It turned on her with its big yellow teeth and snarled viciously at her, causing her to scream and run the other way.

IMG_0061

Groundhogs 3/Us 0

Later that day my husband was heading out to Lowe’s for various things.

“Hey! If you see anything to get rid of groundhogs, buy it!”

He returned with this container.

IMG_0043He chuckled as he pointed out the claim that “the animal simply leaves.”

We spread a thick layer all around the entrances of the burrows.

“UGH! That stuff smells TERRIBLE!” my daughter managed to gasp between dry heaves.

“Let’s hope the groundhogs think so too!” I said.

IMG_0066 2

 

Groundhogs 4/Us 0

Goal

Standard

It will always remain one of the great unfathomable mysteries of life how two people who heavily skew toward the neurotic produced this cool customer:

IMG_9588It’s been a stressful few weeks. I’ve been waking up repeatedly in the middle of the night for no good reason at all and have been finding it hard to get back to sleep. When I finally surrender to the day and get out of bed for good, I find I have to unclench my aching jaws.

One of the things that was causing me a certain amount of anxiety were the logistics of this past weekend. Two of the three kids had soccer tournaments in two different states. With my husband out of the country, I wasn’t quite sure how it was all going to shake out. I ended up taking my daughter to North Carolina and leaving the boys in Virginia so that my oldest son could play his games in Charlottesville, and so that he and his brother could take care of our ever-growing menagerie.

At the end of a rainy first day, my goalie ended up looking like this:FullSizeRender 4

The next morning we set out for the third game. As we walked toward the field I read a text message announcing that after another night of torrential thunderstorms, the whole tournament would be decided on penalty kicks – five per team.

“Do you think that’s a joke?” my daughter asked.

“I don’t think so,” I answered.

We watched an official attempt to prep the area by the goal. Again and again he pulled at the water with a large broom…a Sisyphean task if ever there was one.

A mother of a teammate came up to me and asked if my daughter was nervous. We both glanced over to find her doing a goofy dance with a grin on her face, her arms waving like noodles.

“Guess not!” I said. My stomach, on the other hand, was roiling with nerves. And I wasn’t the only one who was anxious. The parents formed a tense, fidgety row along the sideline as we watched our girls lining up to take their shots.

As my daughter squished her way to the box, you could see water coming out of her cleats, which were already soaking wet after just a few minutes of warm up.

She dove for the first ball and landed with an audible splash:

IMG_0011

Photo by Forever Photography By Elissa 

She stood up, drenched with dirty rainwater and spitting out mud and bits of grass, but holding the ball she had saved.

Our cheers turned into laughter when she turned to look at me and shouted, “THAT WAS NOT WORTH IT!

Eventually, she took the fifth kick for her team. As she stepped up to the line, the referee kindly wiped the mud from her eyes before she took her shot:

IMG_0002

Here’s mud in your eye!

She got her ball in, but her team lost the tournament. Was my girl sad?

Nah.

I wish I could be as wholeheartedly fearless as this girl. I wish I could pick myself up after a fall with a rueful smile and a quip. I wish I could wring humor out of the most miserable of situations…When I grow up, my goal is to be just like my #1 goalie.