St. Paddy's Day Digest

The sun rose on a beautiful mild day here in Eire, west.  Most of the Davis gang had already gotten up at Midnight to break the Lenten fast so they could also be ready for Communion in the morning...  But, first things first...  Bright and early, before even dressing for Mass, the Littles woke and ran to the leprechaun trap to see what they could see.  Gabey, reconstructing the scene, tells it in so many words:

"Well, looks like one was here. I don't know how he got in.  No one knows, but you can see he ended up in the pantry.  He got up here, got into the marshmallows, then drank some of this.

"What is it, Gabe?"

"Food coloring!  But, it was green ya know, sooo...

"But, anyway.  He stepped in it. Then slid down the broom handle off the shelf.  Then he walked across to the mudroom.  See his footsteps?"

"How come they end here, do ya think?"

"He wiped his feet on the door mat.  And he got most of the green off...  but you can see another track here across the kitchen.  Then he went in the dining room.  He looked over and saw all the stuff in the cage, and ran across and climbed up the chair to the little table...

"And he saw the beer in there. There was other stuff, but after eating the marshmallows, he was probably thirsty...

He thought that the little tea cups had beer in them, but it was only tea, so he looked up and saw the Guinness bottles and thought he'd go in and get some.  He went in and tripped on the little wire and 

SNAP, the cage door shut.  But not all the way.  It didn't lock, so he pushed it right open. He ate a piece of the cookie.  Then he went in the craft room and wrote a note and left it in here for us."

So, hmmmm...  Santa doesn't come to our house, but leprechauns do?

Well, that is the question right now...  Do they, or don't they?

William says right off the back that the note is in Mommy's handwriting.

Theresa looks over William's head and winks knowingly at Cathy.

Michelle smiles quietly.

"Maybe it is," Mommy says.  "What do you think?"  No answer.

 But later in the day, William accuses Cathy of playing leprechaun.  Cathy insists it wasn't her and Anna agrees Cathy hadn't gotten up in the night.

 Gabe, more quietly skeptical finally asks Mommy if she did it.  Mommy says, "Would I pull a trick like that?"  One raised eyebrow. His.  Mine are both raised -- innocently.  For now.  

Here's the "wink."

There'll be a lesson in healthy skepticism coming later, followed by a talk about knowing the difference between what's real and what's make-believe and why it's important to know the difference.

And I'm making plans for more elaborate shenanigans next year.  The children will get to figure out where the leprechaun has been and what he's been up to... Maybe I'll enlist special helpers every year.... Sorta like the Santa game, I think -- It may well be more fun for  "the leprechaun"  than the children.

White board art for the day.

And here's the rest of our traditional St. Patrick's Day in a nutshell --

For Posterity:

St. Patrick's Itinerary, 2013

Children attending: Michelle -17, Theresa-14, Cathy-12, Anna-10, Gabriel-8, William-7

1) Mass at 8 a.m. The four girls sang in the choir -- just them with Sr. Petra today, and it was awesome!  The Lorica was so pretty!

2) Lunch:

Corned Beef 

Colcanon 

Soda Bread (ala Cathy -- the best ever!)

3) The Quiet Man, enjoyed thoroughly while eating bread pudding

4) I had to take Dan to the airport to fly to another 

week of work in Nevada (Ugh.Not traditional!)

5) Darby O'Gill & the Little People (Young Sean Connery. Oh, yes; oh, yes.) 

Watched after i got home and started blogging this post!

6) All Creatures Great and Small (the PBS series) -- watched at dinner time while eating

popcorn 

cheese

apples

summer sausage

This day, not a recipe for good health, mind you!  But -- really -- it's not our normal routine -- by a long shot.  It being a Sunday in Lent, and an Irish holiday,  however, we feel no shame in celebrating like couch potatoes!

And now, just a little Muppet silliness to end the day on.

This video dedicated to the cheese man, Dominic (even though he can't
have cheese on his health regimen right now -- we know where his
heart is!)

Happy St. Patrick's Day to All!

On the Feast of St. Patrick

According to tradition, St. Patrick wrote this powerful prayer in 433 A.D. for divine protection before successfully converting the Irish King Leoghaire and his subjects from paganism to Christianity. 

 Also known as The Lorica (the cry of the deer), the popular title of the prayer is an appropriate one as its invocation is tantamount to a soldier donning his armor for battle.  

ST. PATRICK'S BREASTPLATE

I arise today 

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through belief in the Threeness,

Through confession of the Oneness

of the Creator of creation.

I arise today

Through the strength of Christ's birth with His baptism,

Through the strength of His crucifixion with His burial,

Through the strength of His resurrection with His ascension,

Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today

Through the strength of the love of cherubim,

In the obedience of angels,

In the service of archangels,

In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

In the prayers of patriarchs,

In the predictions of prophets,

In the preaching of apostles,

In the faith of confessors,

In the innocence of holy virgins,

In the deeds of righteous men.

I arise today, through

The strength of heaven,

The light of the sun,

The radiance of the moon,

The splendor of fire,

The speed of lightning,

The swiftness of wind,

The depth of the sea,

The stability of the earth,

The firmness of rock.

I arise today, through

God's strength to pilot me,

God's might to uphold me,

God's wisdom to guide me,

God's eye to look before me,

God's ear to hear me,

God's word to speak for me,

God's hand to guard me,

God's shield to protect me,

God's host to save me

From snares of devils,

From temptation of vices,

From everyone who shall wish me ill,

afar and near.

I summon today

All these powers between me and those evils,

Against every cruel and merciless power

that may oppose my body and soul,

Against incantations of false prophets,

Against black laws of pagandom,

Against false laws of heretics,

Against craft of idolatry,

Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,

Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul;

Christ to shield me today

Against poison, against burning,

Against drowning, against wounding,

So that there may come to me an abundance of reward.

Christ with me,

Christ before me,

Christ behind me,

Christ in me,

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ on my right,

Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down,

Christ when I sit down,

Christ when I arise,

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,

Christ in every eye that sees me,

Christ in every ear that hears me.

[Note that people sometimes pray a shorter version of this prayer just with these 15 lines about Christ above. The conclusion follows below.]

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through belief in the Threeness,

Through confession of the Oneness

of the Creator of creation.

St. Patrick, Pray for us!

The Eve Before St. Patrick's Day...

And all through the homestead
There's a green haze over everything,
Mornin' Mass 'til bed.







The kids have been peeling and baking and such. Nothing is missing the Irish touch:












The house is decked out in emerald and gold,
And a trail has been laid for a plot to unfold.

Should a leprechaun sense the Irish blood here
And pay a visit on St. Paddy's Eve this year --
Looking for the pot o' gold, lost to his sight 
in the lackluster glow of the crescent moon light...

He may find, as he searches hither and yon

That his visit here is a bit prolonged...

Should he manage to fall into the O'Davis kids' plot...

To make it into Ripley's Believe it or Not.

If you look verrry carefully, you can see the rigging of the leprechaun trap: a stout rubber band (green, of course) is strung tightly between the front of the cage door and the the bottom right hand corner of the entry, and then, holding the door opened is a green piece of embroidery thread pulling from the back of the door and threaded in front of the pot (where you can just see it) to a paperclip hidden on the bottom of the cage, where it's attached to a very thin piece of thread.  If (when!) the leprechaun climbs up to check out the gold, or have a cup of tea or a sip of Guinness, he's bound to trip on either the rubber band or the thread.  Either one will cause the door to snap shut behind him!  We'll have to tweak with the light in the dining room tonight so there will be just enough for the little guy to see the gold, but not bright enough for him to see the threads we want him to trip over!  

Hopefully, we'll have an update and pictures of the little fella to share with you tomorrow!

* Gold good luck "dubloons" contributed by Gabe and William
* Bits and pieces of gold jewelry donated by Anna, Cathy, and Michelle
* Bits of real currency from all over the world ("because Leprechauns are world travelers") from Cathy
* Tiny tea set to whet the little guy's whistle belongs to Michelle
* The Guinness was Gabe's idea. 
* The Irish breakfast tea was from Mommy's stash
* And, no, William O'William is not drinking beer in the first photo...  It's cinnamon tea, really it is.

On the Day Before St. Patrick's, A Walk Down Memory Lane, Hobbiton

First posted in 2008

Little Gabe's Hobbit name: Pasco Loamsdown

Little Anna's Hobbit name: Rosie Posie Loamsdown

Little Tiny William's Hobbit name: Bungo Loamsdown

(IF we called him Bungo now, he would have a *fit*!)

Go here to find your Hobbit Names!

A Beautiful Lenten Poem and the Sad, Sad Tale Of the Irishman Who Wrote It

Joseph Mary Plunkett
 (Nov 21 1887 - May 4, 1916)

The Story of Joseph Mary Plunkett

Born to a wealthy society family in Dublin at the end of the nineteenth century, it seems that Joseph Plunkett  should have lived a life of ease and pleasure, but it turned out to be anything but.  Even as a child, his life was difficult, marked by the misery of tuberculosis.  His mother, unwilling to accept the seriousness of her child's illness, conceded to his spending a few years in the warmer climates of the Mediterranean and North Africa, but he otherwise did not receive the health care that would have benefitted him throughout his adulthood 

Grace Gifford Plunkett

He received his higher education at the Catholic University School, followed by Belvedere College in Dublin where he was instructed by the Jesuits, and then Stonyhurst College in Lancashire, where he was exposed to some military knowledge through the Officers' Training Corps.  A poet and journalist, Joseph was decidedly a man of letters and a devout Catholic, and perhaps as a natural extension of these characteristics, he developed a consuming passion for his Irish heritage -- despite the fact that the British rule in Ireland at that time discouraged any kind of Irish culture or nationalism. It was Joseph's stubborn Irish patriotism that ended his life in difficulty and strife.

In his early twenties Joseph joined the Gaelic League, where he met fellow Irish nationalist and poet, Thomas MacDonagh.  The two of them joined the newly-formed Irish Volunteers, then, later, in 1915 they both joined the Irish Republican Brotherhood.  This nationalist group sent Joseph to Germany to negotiate with the German government on behalf of Ireland, in the fight for freedom from the British crown. Joseph was successful in negotiating a shipment of arms from the Germans to be delivered into Irish hands before the uprising planned for Easter the following year.  

Joseph and Mary's wedding immediately before Joseph's
execution.

 A leader of the cause, it was Joseph's negotiations and strategy that were used in the insurrection -- and thus, it has to be admitted that he may have been responsible in part for the failure of the attempt, though he almost missed the uprising entirely (and it may have simply been doomed from the start).  Shortly before the planned skirmish, Joseph had to be hospitalized due to a recurrence of  tuberculosis.  Just before Easter, he had an operation on his neck glands, and was barely able to make it out of bed to join in the fight, but he was determined to not be left out.  In his weakened conditioned, Joseph had to allow Michael Collins and other heroes of the uprising to act in his stead while he helped direct operations from the General Post Office in Dublin. The rebellion started on Easter Monday, but by the following Saturday, out-manned and out-armed, the Irish Brotherhood were forced to surrender.

The British held Joseph Mary Plunkett for court martial in Kilmainham Gaol (in Dublin) following the surrender. Not surprisingly, the military court found him guilty and sentenced him to death.  Hours before being executed by firing squad, Joseph was permitted to marry his sweetheart, Grace Gifford, a convert to Catholicism.  Joseph was only 28 years old.  Grace's sister, Muriel, had also been converted years before and married Joseph's best friend, Thomas MacDonagh. MacDonagh was also executed for his roll in the Easter Uprising.

Thomas MacDonagh and his wife Muriel had two children,
Donagh born in 1912,  and Barbara, who was just a year old
 when her father was executed by the British.

Later on, Joseph's brothers, Oliver and Jack Plunkett (who were also involved in the Easter Rising)  became influential members of the Irish Republican Army (IRA).  It was not until December 1922 after much bloodshed and heartache, that Ireland finally received its freedom from Great Britain, but it was the Easter Rising of 1916 that got the ball rolling.  It was at Easter 1916 that the Volunteers loudly and explicitly declared themselves a "republic." Then after losing over four hundred people to the unsuccessful Easter insurrection, the reactions of the British -- the executions of the Irish leaders, the arrest of thousands of suspected rebels throughout Ireland, then the imposition of martial law -- galvanized the Irish people to action, and turned the eye of the world to their plight.  It was only a matter of time before the United Kingdom had to accept that it could no longer be united with (most of) Ireland.

 In the end, Joseph Mary Plunkett's part in winning Ireland's independence has been recognized and heralded by the nation he died for.  The main railway station in Waterford City, Ireland, is named after him, as well as the Joseph Plunkett tower in Ballymun and the Plunkett barracks in the Curragh Camp, Cty Kildare.

In my opinion it was for a noble cause that Joseph Mary offered his life -- but, it's his poetry inspired by his beloved Faith that Joseph took with him to God the day he died.

A couple more of the poems of Joseph Mary Plunkett:

I saw the Sun at Midnight

I saw the Sun at midnight, rising red, Deep-hued yet glowing, heavy with the stain Of blood-compassion, and I saw It gain Swiftly in size and growing till It spread Over the stars; the heavens bowed their head As from Its heart slow dripped a crimson rain, Then a great tremor shook It, as of pain— The night fell, moaning, as It hung there dead.

O Sun, O Christ, O bleeding Heart of flame! Thou givest Thine agony as our life’s worth, And makest it infinite, lest we have dearth Of rights wherewith to call upon Thy Name; Thou pawnest Heaven as a pledge for Earth And for our glory sufferest all shame.

To Grace

On the morning of her christening, April 7th, 1916

The powerful words that from my heart Alive and throbbing leap and sing Shall bind the dragon’s jaws apart Or bring you back a vanished spring; They shall unseal and seal again The fount of wisdom’s awful flow, So this one guerdon they shall gain That your wild beauty still they show.

The joy of Spring leaps from your eyes, The strength of dragons in your hair, In your young soul we still surprise The secret wisdom flowing there; But never word shall speak or sing Inadequate music where above Your burning heart now spreads its wing In the wild beauty of your Love. *If you read carefully through all of Joseph's poems, you come to know the man.  How is it that our world is so weak and apathetic now compared to a century ago?  How is it we seem to have lost the wisdom, strength, faith and spirit of men like Joseph Mary Plunkett? Or, if it still exists, where is it? The Irish Ballad about the marriage of Joseph and Grace, Sung by Anthony Kearns.

Grace

As we gather in the chapel here in old Kilmanhaim Jail
I think about these past few weeks, oh, will they say we failed?
From our school days they have told us we must yearn for Liberty,
But all I want in this dark place is to have you here with me.

Chorus:

Oh, Grace just hold in your arms and let this moment linger.
They'll take me out at dawn and I will die.
With all my love I'll place this wedding ring upon your finger;
There won't be time to share our love, so we must say good bye.

Now, I know it's hard for you, my love, to ever understand
The love I have for these brave men, my love for this dear land,
But when Padric called me to his side down in the GPO
I had to leave my own sick bed; to him I had to go.

Chorus

Now, as the dawn is breaking my heart is breaking too;
As I walk out on this may morn, my thoughts will be of you.
So I write these words upon the wall so everyone will know
I loved so much that I could see his blood upon the rose.

Chorus

(More particulars about the Easter Rising can be found here -- and Irish Independence, in a nutshell, here.)

Third Sunday of Lent

Twenty-eight more days of Lent to go!

Seven Somewhat Random, But Not Quick Takes

The First Random -- and yet no so very random thing on the list today:  It's the Feast of King St. David of Wales!  Dewey San Day! Good King St. David is the patron of all Davids and all Davises out there, our surname having been taken by our ancient Welsh ancestors in honor of  the great saint.  So, we're festing today -- a little bit.  Kinda.


Because ( and this really stinks) King St. David's feast is almost always in Lent.  And this year it's also on a Friday. (To add insult to injury.)  So, in celebration -- as much as is possible -- we'll have potato leek soup tonight for dinner.  Not exciting, but with some bread sticks -- and daffodils for decorations,  I expect we'll make a good time of it....  And it will work with my diet pretty well (more on that later down the list.)

But, back to St. David, himself.  Though the verifiable facts are few, what we do know about him makes for a honey of a life story, start to finish.  He was (no kidding) the child of a nun, he was a king, a bishop, the founder of a monastic rule -- and he lived to the venerable old age of 100 (give or take) in one of the most beautiful places on earth (and the homeland of my ancestors, though that surely doesn't bias me).

On my bucket list, should I ever get to be a world traveler, are the beautiful hills and valleys of Wales (conveniently right across the Irish Sea from my number one bucket list destination, Ireland -- the home of our other ancestors...).  I'm dying to see St. Non's Chapel and Holy Well (St. Non is St. David's Mother--  and what a story that is! Click the link for the specs!), St. Govan's Chapel, built into the cliffs on the Irish Sea in Wales (Amazing, awesome place!), St. David's Cathedral in Pembrokeshire, Wales (Breathtaking!), and  Llanddewi Brefi, the Welsh village in which the hill rose under St. David's feet so the folks in the back of the crowd could hear him speak.  Those are the holy places. But I'd also want to check out the site where the movie The Man Who Went Up a Hil and Came Down a Mountain is based --  Taff's Well (Ffynnon Taf in Welsh)...  And maybe hunt around for some geneological clues to both my maiden and married names.

To read the truly fascinating (and even somewhat strangely sordid) story of the life of St. David, you can check out this post.  (There's a really nice coloring page over there for the day, too!)
For another project, you can find an easy daffodil bunting totorial for here.  (Leeks and daffodils are symbols of the day -- for that quirky history, go here.)

And for the day, as well -- a tiny bit of an exception to our Lenten voluntary sacrifice (we gave up desserts as a family), we'll be having some of these after our leek soup:

Traditional Welsh Cake recipe

1/2 lb flour (200 g)
1/2 lb self-rising flour (200 g)
4 oz butter (120 g)
4 oz lard (120 g)
3 oz currants (100 g)
3/4 cup sugar (175 g)
1 tsp mixed spice (5 ml)
1 tsp ground nutmeg (5 ml)
1 large egg
milk

Sieve flour and spices into a mixing bowl. Add butter and lard (Crisco if you don't have the real thing) and mix until the mixture forms crumbs like when making pie crust. Stir in the remaining dry ingredients.

Crack the egg in a separate bowl and add to dry ingredients, mixing well until it forms a ball.  Add a bit of milk if the consistency isn't quite right, but be sure not to make it too soggy.

Roll the dough out on a floured board to about 1/4 to 1/2 inch (1/2 to 1 cm) thick. Cut with a round biscuit cutter.

Heat and grease a heavy cast iron frying pan and when the fat has melted, wipe off with a paper towel. This leaves just enough non-stick for a help; the cakes produce their own "non-stick" with the butter and lard. 

You'll know when the pan is hot enough to start adding your cakes when you can hold your hand just above it for a minute.

Fit some cakes into the frying pan and wait until they're a mottled golden brown color.

Turn the cakes over and repeat on the other side. They are better cooked quite slowly (about 3-5 minutes each cake).

EASY Welsh Cake Recipe

3 1/2 c. flour
1 1/2 c. sugar
1 c. shortening
1 tsp. salt
3 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1 1/2 c. raisins
2 eggs
1/2 c. milk

Mix shortening, sugar and eggs. Stir in dry ingredients and milk. Roll out dough quite thin. Cut with cookie cutter. Fry in frying pan at 350 degrees -- about 3 minutes on each side.

So here's something weird/ amazing/ crazy.  Though I gave it up for Lent, I have in the past months become a total Pintrest addict (Thanks, Cheryle M! ;0) Pintrest, Pintrest, Pintrest; Oh, how I love Pintrest. I literally have thousands of neat ideas, inspirations, recipes, and pretty scenery collected on my boards for that moment when we all know I will need them... If nothing else, just to look at and admire....  But, really, though...

We have used many of the recipes we've found on the boards, we've laughed at a lot of the jokes and silly videos and even used a couple of the craft tutorials.  The marshmallows pictured above, though? -- We never made them.  Though they seemed to be a super easy and clever little treat for St. Valentine's Day, we just didn't get around to it.

Nevertheless, from this one pin, I got 1,324 repins!  Like, WHAT?! No kidding! Valentine season is well over, and I'm still getting repins for these marshmallows.  Boggles the mind.

I wonder if anyone actually made them?

(PS:  Find me and follow me and I'll find you and follow you!  And here's the link to the marshmallow pin, if anyone wants it...)

The White Board.

Bad photo, I know, but I had to acknowledge that Dominic is thee master of the
White Board.  It 's his medium of choice.  He got the ball rolling
when he was home this summer and fall with his White Board
Challenges -- and it's just continued from there.  Sometimes
sublime, sometimes silly, thre's usually a work of art on there
 in some state of completion.  Here are a couple of the more sublime:

Anna's 

This one's Theresa's.  You can see what she's into, huh?

And now on the Board: Cathy's offering for Lent.
Nobody wants to erase it, so it'll be there the duration
of Lent.  Probably with added background.  I expect we'll see
something new on Holy Saturday... I'll let you know.

We give up the Netflix and DVDs every year for Lent.  It's a good exercise, for sure -- as it really does force you to change your routines, theoretically, for the better. But I'm blowing it a bit, I'm afraid.  Heaven knows, if I used the time I'd usually be watching I Love Lucy and Fact or Faked to do spiritual reading I'd be much better off.  Not that I haven't done any spiritual reading so far this Lent.  But I've not been doing as much as I could be doing.  Because -- well, I gotta come clean: what I've been doing with my spare time is reading perfectly useless fluff.  Silly stories, Amish romances, children's ghost stories, historic novels of the Irish Rebellion.... And not just casually picking up a story here and there.  I've been Reading, Reading, Reading...  Voraciously.  Nonstop. With no will power to put. the. books. down. (Ugh.  I'm so embarassed.)

So... Uh.  Hi.  My name is Lisa Davis and I am an obsessive bookworm. Out of the closet and on a rampage. I went through a twelve ten step program with the births of our children and maintained an almost novel-less state through the subsequent twenty-five years of diapers, dinners, housekeeping, and  homeschooling.  Stayed un-read for most of my adult life because I literally did not have the time to get into a book --   The Reader's Digest, blog posts, and kids' read-alouds, and dips into the Lives of the Saints were just about my only exception except on the infrequent slow holiday or the occasional snatches of books while hiding in the bathroom...

   But I know -- and I admit it:  I have a sickness. I was aware of it from the age of nine when I first read Charlotte's Web, followed immediately by Stuart Little, followed immediately by The Trumpet of the Swan -- and finished them all within a week and a half.... And it hasn't gotten better with age.  It's disaster for me to even start a novel of any size because  I can. not. leave a story unfinished.  Nope.  Gotta finish it to the bitter end. Eat while I read, barely function while I read, read late into the night, then dream about what I'm reading until I wake up and get my hands on my book again.  I could get away with my book mania when I was still in school, but with my busy life and many duties now as a grown up wife and mom, I've known it's best not to even start a book. There was always the danger of losing control. With determination to avoid temptation, however, I had been un-read and obsession-free for almost twenty-five years.....

 Until this Lent.  Then -- sigh--- I don't know what got into me. I fell off the wagon.  

Now I have to decide (in the midst of the wild and insatiable euphoria of  the books, books, books and more books available on my Kindle) whether to wean myself slowly -- or (dread!) cut the gratuitous reading off cold turkey.  Pray for me.   Now that I've tasted the forbidden sweetness again, it's gonna be hard.

Something else I saw and pinned on Pintrest....

This house and its overbearing mountain friend 

can be found on the south coast of Norway.

What do you think?  Would you live there? 

I would not live there.  Even if it were safe, I'd always feel like something was hanging over me... I love checking out houses, though. Since I seem to be in a frenzy of disclosures here today, I may as well admit that I'm also addicted to:  Realtor.com. 

 I can waste more time looking at houses I'll never live in in places I've never even seen... Or, who knows?  Maybe houses that I might live in -- in places I might yet see...  I don't know.  God knows.

(Oh, dear. Is it starting to look like all I do all day is sit around pinning on Pintrest, perusing house listings, reading silly novels, and eating bonbons?)

They'd have to be sugar free, gluten free bonbons...

So, yeah....  As I foreshadowed above. (Did you catch that?  Twice, actually.)  I'm on a diet.  Again.  This time, though, it's was not really to lose weight (at least that was not the officially stated primary purpose...) 

In order to allow my other health regimens to work better, minus critters and a systemic yeast infection, I put myself on the Candida Diet.  Since I've had what has been loosely diagnosed as  Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, I've tried everything to get back to normal, physically and mentally. And as much as I'd like to be able to hike up mountains again, it's the mental thing that's got me motivated to go for the hard-core, take-no-prisoners diet solution that seems necessary. It's bad enough being tired and achey all the time, but the brain fog that comes with this condition is really the pits.  I've made some headway with the naturopathic plan I've been on and will continue with it, but it seems that something is holding me back from recovering as quickly as I could.  But, God is good (and I'm assuming He'd rather I had my brain back, too....).  Recently, after a tip from my health provider, I read about Candida and took the quiz -- and was ten for ten (and then some) on the symptoms. It was an AHA! moment.

 If you have symptoms like fatigue, brain fog (inability to think clearly), muscle aches, stomach and digestive problems -- you may want to look into this, because addressing the Candida has made a night and day difference -- for me, anyway! Almost immediately.  I'm not out of the woods yet, but I have way more brain clarity, feel better, in general -- and, get this: as a side benefit, I've lost ten pounds in two and a half weeks!  Woot! (As my son, Kevin would say)

There's a catch, though.  With the Candida Diet you can eat almost nothing. No kidding.  You can't have grains, no dairy, no sugar of any kind, no fruit -- no happiness (as my son, Dominic quipped yesterday).... But, I feel much better without those things right now.  Except for the happiness. I still like happiness -- just have to find it in places other than sugar and carbs.   And you can see where the weight loss came from.  Argh.  It's hard. Lent to the power of ten this year.  But worth it.  And, like Lent, it won't last forever.  

Why We Do Lent

"Doing penance for one's sins is a first step towards obtaining forgiveness and winning eternal salvation. That is the clear and explicit teaching of Christ, and no one can fail to see how justified and how right the Catholic Church has always been in constantly insisting on this. She is the spokesman for her divine Redeemer. No individual Christian can grow in perfection, nor can Christianity gain in vigor, except it be on the basis of penance."

 -Pope John XXIII

"Lenten practices of giving up pleasures are good reminders that the purpose of life is not pleasure. The purpose of life is to attain to perfect life, all truth and undying ecstatic love – which is the definition of God. In pursuing that goal we find happiness. Pleasure is not the purpose of anything; pleasure is a by-product resulting from doing something that is good. One of the best ways to get happiness and pleasure out of life is to ask ourselves, “How can I please God?” and, “Why am I not better?” It is the pleasure-seeker who is bored, for all pleasures diminish with repetition."

 -Fulton J. Sheen 

"The proof of love is in the works. Where love exists, it works great things. But when it ceases to act, it ceases to exist." 

-Pope St. Gregory the Great

"Nothing, how little so ever it be, if it is suffered for God's sake, can pass without merit in the sight of God."

-Thomas a Kempis

"Whoever wishes to be my follower must deny his very self, take up his cross each day, and follow in my steps."

 - Jesus Christ

    (Luke 9:23)

(Just reminding myself here... ;0)

Blessings All!

Make sure and run over to Conversion Diaries for lots of Quick Takes

(Undoubtedly most are quicker than mine and less myopic, I'm sure...

My apologies. :0/ Once I feel caught up again, maybe I'll be able to look outward better.)