July 5th was the fifth anniversary of my mothers demise. A quiet day for me of reflection, Mass and Eucharistic adoration.
Its been raining for two days now which reminds me of the monsoons in Nam. Each day the rain would come, the ground became a thick muck. walking was a chore. See ing was a chore. One day I witnessed a huge puddle being formed at the edge of an airstrip. the puddle was the size of a pond. The amazing thing was that some villagers came with poles to fish in it. The everlasting question was where did the the fish they were bringing in come from?. Have never been able to answer that!
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