MY TRIP TO BETHLEHEM

 In June, as a trip of thanksgiving, me and a friend (who, unlike me doesn’t post photos of themselves online) went to the Tehachapi Mountains. We drove through the hot air blizzard of the Mojave desert and then along the windiest road in the world to the Bethlehem Priory of Saint Joseph. There we had the privilege of a day with the Norbertine Canonesses. Their habits are like that which the pope always wears; creamy white robes. 

On arrival I greeted all my animal friends, it had been four years since I saw Frederick, yet the minute we locked eyes on each other he bounded towards me, tail wagging ecstatically and giving me a welcome warmer than the blazing noonday sun. Fabulous Frederick is a true Great Pyrenees and their memory has to be experienced to be believed. He rolled over on his belly as though I had only seen him an hour before. This time he asked me out on a date to eat his favorite food, hotdogs, and said he’s really a man in a dog suit, but he couldn’t pull the fur over my eyes. 

I knelt in the grass and fulfilled the point of my pilgrimage: to pray in thanksgiving to Our Lady.

Then to the parlor where I had a sublime soul-enriching visit with one of the sisters with whom I’ve had a friendship and correspondence for many years.

I didn’t get permission to post online any of the pictures I took of the sisters, so these photos are just of my ugly mug. With a post like this, it’s easy to get called narcissistic (and I am) but it just so happens I don’t have anyone else’s permission.