Life on the Island

The dogs of summer are barking daily now.  We've gone through some extended, tremendously hot and humid weeks, ever since July.  It's now mid-August, and we had a two-day break from the oppression, which has been sweet, indeed.

Not long ago, in the last week of July, we purchased a lawn care company.  I had helped a friend of mine get his little company going some five years hence, via designing his logos, letterhead, name, etc., as well as helping him to learn some of the ins and outs of lawn care.  He came away, in the end, with around 23 customers, all residential more or less, which was pretty impressive for a guy who can barely speak English.

Due to some mitigating circumstances, he found himself in need of liquidating some of his assets, in case he felt a need to beat a hasty retreat.  So he offered to sell his company to us at a very attractive price.  Because of the fact that our kids are now at the age where they need jobs, and because we enjoy our time with them, we went for it.

At present, I am working on expanding the company into some commercial situations as well.  We shall see...

So what in the world is up with that Darkisle thingy, you might ask?  My last name is a Gaelic name which means "The clan of the dark islander", or "The son of the dark islander", or some such.  Therefore, I came up with the name Darkisle Gazette.  What is a dark isle?  Who knows?  It just sounds catchy to me.  I hope it does to you as well.  It's all in fun.

Ciao!

A life well-lived. So far, so good...

Just yesterday, my favorite person - my wife, experienced her 50th birthday party, a momentous occasion to be sure.  This lady has lived a most exemplary life, quietly loving ALL those she has come in contact with.  She is an astounding person, patient to the core (unless we're talking about her dealings with her computers, that's another story altogether).  She has successfully raised her first child to a wonderful expression of adult-hood.  She continually pours herself out, like a sacrificial offering, for her family.

I am truly blessed among men.

I love you, dear.

Here's to the next 50!

Let Calmer Heads Prevail

In the wake of...  Don't you just love to hear that phrase?  I love it. It makes you know that something really juicy is just around the bend.  I just finished watching a video clip revealing the debacle on the Mediterranean.  You know the one, where Israeli commandos took over a ship full of trouble-makers.  An asian woman, who happens to be a US citizen, gave the lowdown on the situation.  She  had managed to send out about an hour of footage, presumably via satellite.  Surely they knew that Israel wasn't going to allow anyone to slip in without some trouble?  That group was looking for trouble, in order to gain media attention.  Well, it worked.  Was Israel wrong to react that way?  Do they have any right to guard their borders?  Do we?  Does Mexico?  Does Europe?  Yes.

Logo design

Recently, I was able to create a logo for a personal trainer who lives outside of Portland, Oregon, in Victoria, WA.  He is actually the coach for an Olympic cycling team, as well as a personal trainer.  I thought you might like to see some of my latest work, so here goes:

So that gives you a little glimpse of my recent work.  If you, or someone you know, should need a logo designed, please don't hesitate to connect with me.  I am at your service.

Where I'm From...

From whence do I come?

From silver, glistening winter lands, where sleet turns dull, winter trees to a crystal forest, blazing in the sun, a pristine, prismatic palace that I could call my home, if I were hibernating. I'm from a land surrounded by vast waters, where waves crash, but taste sweetly, where ships of titanic proportions have gone with their crews to a watery grave, glimpsed only by the denizens of the deep.

But where am I from?

From cathedral peaks made by the hand of no man, where I walked among the giants of all forest-life, and felt lilliputian and out of me. I am from deep moss, trees growing out of broken off treetops, and hidden waterfalls, from the song of the hermit thrush off in the woods somewhere, and cold rain running down the back of my neck. I come from red earth, Mars-like, but full of dry life, where each swing of my hoedad brought a bit more pain and damage to my aching wrists.

But still, from where do I hail?

From the foreign sounds of little brown children, who look not a bit like me, where Conejo and Beto exchange blows over the little niña named Maria Elena who has such a pretty face. Where Elenorilda Alvarado Acosta wears her funny baseball cap sideways and calls her sneakers “TenixPanam”. Where I go to Mass and Padre Mauricio Roy does the whole thing in Spanish but you'd think it was French. He's from Quebec.  I'm from Organ pipe cactus, and flipping over hot, dry rocks in the blazing Sonoran sun to see if I could find any scorpions underneath. I think scorpions are cool!

I'm from peach groves that left my neck red and itching, but my face sticky from eating so many, and my belly full, where Eric nearly got bitten by a Diamondback Rattlesnake, which later that evening got eaten for dinner. Randy gave the rattle to some Mexican guy. I was ticked off.

I'm from Chiapas, Mexico, and fishing for shrimp in a tipsy, shallow dugout canoe at 2 in the morning, while caimans, and rather large crocodiles swim past in the dark, only their eyes visible as we shined flashlights at them. Mamá cooked us shrimp with eggs and tortillas for breakfast in the morning. I'm from washing my face in the cistern and seeing tilapia swimming by inches below.

I'm from Oaxaca, Palmas Largas, where the miracles happened, many were saved, and the beginnings of a revival broke out before my very eyes, where the old Zapoteco with the withered arm and no teeth pleaded with me to heal him and I did.  I'm from swimming in the river, under and around the boulders looking for the elusive green shrimp that live there in fear of the even more elusive, and preditory Chacal shrimps, which I ate with gusto.

I'm from the sound of metal against metal as the wedge is driven deeper into the round of ash, and oak wood with each successive blow of the sledgehammer.  I'm from Morgan pestering the dogs till they turned on him with a growl, but did no harm.  I'm from GregoriOso driving his Bobcat, and backbreaking work under the hot, Ohio sun.

I'm also from the sound of passing autos, the hum of computer fans, logo-creation for the guy in Portland, Oregon, and sucking down bitter, black coffee.

God help me. That's where I'm from.

Copyright 2010 Frank J. McAvinchey

In The Company Of Brothers

I stood in the company of brothers,
Arm in arm with the others,
Expectantly waiting for Jesus,
To pour for us out what He pleases,
That cool, strong wind to blow,
That warm, soft chill that I know.

And then it came,
And none of us will be the same,
Our lives quickly changed,
Our goals rearranged,
By that still, small voice inside,
In that place, He now can abide.

For Him we’ve given up much,
Wealth, liberty and such,
But oh, what we’ve gained,
The treasures attained,
But gladly would I give it all,
And throw my crown to His feet at His call.

And how many times have I fallen?
And yet I hear His sweet voice callin’
“Child, come and be near me,
Run to me, hear me,
Forgiveness is yours for the askin’,
I am the Son you will bask in.

I am the Morning Star,
I am the cool, soft rain.
And once I’ve come, you’ll never be the same.
Your life will begin anew,
Child, come and be near me, too.


*Two roads diverged in a wood,
And long and still that I stood,
When at last a choice had I made,
“Goodbye to the wide road,” I bade.
As that still, small voice,
Helped me make the choice,
And I’ll never,
No I’ll never be the same.


©  2003 Frank J. McAvinchey

  

* With acknowledgement to the influence of the venerable Robert Frost, my unwitting mentor.

How Mexico treats illegal aliens (OneNewsNow.com)

As many know, I am one who has bent over backward to show the love of Christ to the Hispanic population of Cincinnati, going far out of my way to serve them. However, I really have to agree with what this article spells out ever so clearly. Arizona's treatment of the illegal alien population, and the wanna-be's on the other side of the border, is a cake walk compared to the treatment of Mexico toward illegals in their country. Click the link below to read what I'm talking about.

Hate the sin, love the sinner - just like Jesus.

How Mexico treats illegal aliens (OneNewsNow.com)