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Page 1: Bayou Packet #39

01 November 2008 The Bayou Packet # 39 Page 1 of 8

An irregular irreverent confabulation for the edification and delectation of podjos, friends, brothers, kith and kin of Jess Epps

Dearest Betsy, Mister Blue, as you called him, was euthanized and left this vale of tears on Monday 13 October 2008. I'm a tad ignorant as to how long these journeys take but he should be joining you soon. Keep watch on the Rainbow Bridge. When I said goodbye to him, I instructed him to renew guarding you now as he did so well for us and me for the last 14 years. I also asked him to please not bite Whit (Sanford Columbus Whitaker), whom I assume has arrived and you have made connection. If so, tell him I miss him and think of him often, especially when I’m having a cigar and an Armagnac. I bonded with Blue more so than with any of the many dogs I have been mandad to during my long life span. More so, even than Pharaoh; my Basenji, who was my favorite, until Blue. We were the best of buds. Podjos, soul mates, friends. I will never forget the pleasure he gave me. He will be sorely missed. Blue Blessed Belatedly Ruby Receives Blessing

On Sunday, 26 October, friend and brother Mason: Rev. Dr. Jesse G. Jennings blessed Blue’s ashes and Ruby at the annual “Blessing of the Animals” ceremony - blessing them and their presence in our lives - in the courtyard of his church. He is Founding Minister of the Creative Life Spiritual Center, which is a member of the United Church of Religious Science. Their teaching is called the Science of Mind. It is not Scientology, and in no way related to Scientology. "The Science of Mind is a correlation of the opinions of philosophy, the revelations of religion, and the laws of science, applied to the needs and aspirations of people today." So said American philosopher Ernest Holmes (1887-1960), the founder of this teaching. Their basic tenet is that the universe and everything in it comprises one whole system, one name for which is "God." This bold idea was not original to Holmes; it's quite ancient. Holmes' life's work was to simplify the idea and render it practical. He devised a sort of formula for prayer that is in God rather than to God.

Rai nbow B ridge Just this side of heaven is a place called Rai nbow B ridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rai nbow B ridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine and our friends are warm and comfortable. All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again ... Just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content except for one small thing: they each miss someone very special, someone who was left behind. They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. Her / his bright eyes are intent; her / his eager body begins to quiver. Suddenly (s)he breaks from the group flying over the green grass faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands caress the beloved head, and you look once more into those trusting eyes so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart. Then you cross the Rai nbow B ridge together ...

– Author unknown

Page 2: Bayou Packet #39

01 November 2008 The Bayou Packet # 39 Page 2 of 8

An irregular irreverent confabulation for the edification and delectation of podjos, friends, brothers, kith and kin of Jess Epps

Beyond the great-swung arc o’ the roof, divine, Night, smoky-scarv’d, with thousand coloured eyes

Glares the imperious mystery of the way.

– – Rupert Brook, “The Night Journey ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Medical Update For several months, I have been disabled by different degrees. Before going on holiday to Costa Rica on the 9th of July, I was diagnosed by X-ray with DDD (Degenerative Disk Disease) between lumbar vertebrae L5 and sacrum vertebrae S1. While there, I took a fall, which presumably caused a herniated disk between lumbar vertebrae’s L4 and L5, that was revealed by a subsequent MRI on 2008/08/08. The sacrum is a triangular bone in the lower back formed from fused vertebrae and situated between the two hipbones of the pelvis. From Latin os sacrum, translation of Greek hieron osteon, ‘sacred bone’ (from the belief that the soul resides in it). My official diagnosis is an "Extruded disk herniation at L4-5 with severe stenosis of the spinal canal and left L5 lateral recess. Additional spinal canal stenosis at L3-4 with borderline narrowing at L2-3." Stenosis is the abnormal narrowing of a passage in the body. I am in treatment, having had two Epidural Steroid Injections in the spine (which require anesthesia) and three MUA’s (Manipulations under Anesthesia). I’ve been ”out” a lot. The benefits to epidural steroid injections are three-fold: 1. Injecting steroids into the epidural space helps reduce the inflammation of the nerves, nerve roots, or nerve coverings, which are the source of leg pain. 2. The steroids serve as a temporary form of pain relief so the body can begin its natural healing process. 3. An epidural steroid injection is a good diagnostic tool because its blockage of the nerve pinpoints the source of your pain. The pain has been substantially reduced and I am now in physical and aquatic therapy. I have been very limited in my walking ability, by various degrees. I previously could not walk without a cumbersome walker. Or, without excruciating pain. I judge my progress by my stairway. At first it was extremely difficult and painful taking two feet on each step while holding on to the rail. Then taking regular steps while holding on. Going down was the hardest at first. Now I can walk up, mostly unassisted. But like all things, when you think you have them whipped, they turn around and bite you in the ass. In my case, the right groin.

Mid-Sagittal View of LumbarVertebrae

Ernest Hemingway is one of history's legendary cigar icons. What kind of distinct prose would ol' Papa have used to describe and rate cigars. It's no accident that the appreciation of cigars, while undeniably a masculine pursuit, has always evoked imagery that is elegant, sensual, and even feminine. Think about it. We like our cigars to be tight and fully packed. We like how they feet in our hands. We appreciate their smooth, unblemished skin. We adore their unmistakable scent. We know a good one needs to be treated with gentle care. And sometimes, we like it when they have just a little spice to them. Sound familiar? The mystical connection between cigars and women goes all the way back to the still popular Cuban legend about their finest cigars being rolled between the thighs of virgins.

Page 3: Bayou Packet #39

01 November 2008 The Bayou Packet # 39 Page 3 of 8

An irregular irreverent confabulation for the edification and delectation of podjos, friends, brothers, kith and kin of Jess Epps

Communications from Paradise In my many previous trips to Costa Rica I had never been to the Caribbean coast, Now I have, and it is beautiful, as is all of Costa Rica. The route from San Jose took us through the Rain Forest, outbound in sunshine, inbound in rain and fog. Spectacular! On our return trip we had to take a circuitous route around San Jose because on certain days, certain license plate ending numbers are prohibited inside the loop because of the overabundance of cars. It was our day, of course. Whilst wending my way through this vale of tears, I have traveled lots of gravel roads. This trip probably doubled my lifetime mileage. We went through miles, tens of miles, scores of miles, and more miles of bananas; searching for a helicopter base camp site for the gold mine project. Banana trees apparently yield only one stalk per tree. These were all covered with blue plastic wrapping to protect the fruit from the toxic fumigating spray from road machines and crop dusting airplanes. They are then hung on trams and transported by hand or horses pulling them to their final destination. All of the labor is done by those that "owe their soul to the company store": United Fruit Company. A sort of slavery is still alive and well._________________________________________________________________________________________________ 15 July 2008. It's my birthday. I'm in Costa Rica. Mi amigo Helge Haaversen took me to Tony Roma’s where I had a full rack of baby back ribs, Then he bought me a $20USD Cohiba Siglo VI cigar (from Habana Cuba) which I am now smoking with my Black Bush (Black label Bushmill's Irish whiskey) on the rocks.

If life gets any better than this, I'm not sure I can take it. Chocolate birthday cake is awaiting, so we'll see. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ When I made my first trip to Costa Rica over 25 years ago, it was an economical place - but no longer. Lodging and food are now about on a par with US prices. Or higher. The Costa Rica Colon exchange rate back then was about 10 to the dollar. When I got here this time, it was 520. One week later it was 550CRC (Costa Rica Colones) per $1.00USD (US Dollar). 1 Costa Rican colon = 0.00202 U.S. dollars Whilst here, gasoline, which is subsidized and the same price at all stations, rose from 644CRC / liter (X 3.7854118 = 2,437.8051992 / 520 = $4.69USD / gallon) to 730CRC / liter ($5.02USD / gallon). Paradise it is, but it's not a bargain. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ Today (Friday 18 July 2008) we went further up the mountains to Santiago de Puriscal and visited the cigar factory and plantation of Vegas Santiago S.A. There I smoked a Puros Torpedo edicion especial 6x52 (cost $3.00USD) that was

Page 4: Bayou Packet #39

01 November 2008 The Bayou Packet # 39 Page 4 of 8

An irregular irreverent confabulation for the edification and delectation of podjos, friends, brothers, kith and kin of Jess Epps

damn near as good as the very expensive cuban cigar I had on my birthday. Thanks to mi amigo and host Helge Haaverson, I now have enough cigars to last a long while. Or, did have. The farmers of the Santiago de Puriscal Region in Costa Rica, grow tobacco for their fine cigars in the rich and fertile volcanic highlands at a height of 1100 meters (3500 ft.) All the labor is done manually. This culture was inherited from the Huetar Indians, who considered the tobacco plant "sacred." One of the most important factors for the quality of fine cigars is the process of drying and curing the tobacco leaves. Their aging process is absolutely natural and, as with excellent wine, it takes their tobacco a minimum of 3 years to come to its full maturity. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ Mas X Menos (grocery) is still here. Lamb’s (meat market) is gone. Only Irma Wall will recognize and appreciate these. Yesterday (Saturday 19 July 2008) we went to Las Palomos Restaurant on the Grande de Orosí River at Orosi, where I had been several times before, and had a fresh river fish dinner. Excellent. The "grande" is a whole fish that overhangs both ends of a large platter and cost about $10.00USD. A bargain, at last.

Home of the oldest church currently in use in Costa Rica the Iglesia de San Jose Orosi, the small colonial town of Orosi is located in the charming Orosi Valley in Cartago province. With majestic surrounding vistas, picturesque scenic settingsand amazing river views, this quiet town is a nature lover’s delight. Close to the capital San Jose and nearby the provincial capital of Cartago, Orosi is a must visit in the region with its gorgeous climate, fertile soil, lush greenery and thermal baths. Named after a Huetar Indian chief who lived in the region before it was colonized by the Spanish, the town of Orosi is situated in what is considered to be the most beautiful valley in the entire country. A quiet place to enjoy some amazing beauty, boating along the Lake Cachi or trout fishing, Orosi is also an adventure junkie’s hotspot with some excellent white water rafting along the Rio Reventazón. In town itself, there is not much to see besides the church of Iglesia de San Jose Orosi built in 1734. This church sits on the west side of town and has a masterfully crafted wooden altar that is definitely worth a look. Also near the church is a small museum that displays many of Costa Rica’s old Spanish-influenced religious artifacts. Cartago's most famous building is the Basílica de Nuestra Señora de los Angeles (Basilica of Our Lady of the Angels), which is dedicated to the patron saint of Costa Rica and stands on the east side of town. Within the walls of this Byzantine-style church is a shrine containing the tiny figure of La Negrita, the Black Virgin, which is nearly lost amid its ornate altar. Legend has it that La Negrita first revealed herself on this site to a peasant girl in 1635. Miraculous healing powers have been attributed to La Negrita, and, over the years, thousands of pilgrims have come to the shrine seeking cures for their illnesses and difficulties. The walls of the shrine are covered with a fascinating array of tiny silver images left as thanks for cures affected by La Negrita. Amid the plethora of diminutive silver arms and legs, there are also hands, feet, hearts, lungs, kidneys, eyes, torsos, breasts, and -- peculiarly -- guns, trucks, beds, and planes. There are even

Page 5: Bayou Packet #39

01 November 2008 The Bayou Packet # 39 Page 5 of 8

An irregular irreverent confabulation for the edification and delectation of podjos, friends, brothers, kith and kin of Jess Epps

dozens of sports trophies that I assume were left as thanks for helping teams win big games. Outside the church, vendors sell a wide selection of these trinkets, as well as little candle replicas of La Negrita. August 2 is the day dedicated to La Negrita; on this day, tens of thousands of people walk to Cartago from San José and elsewhere in the country in devotion to this powerful statue. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ I haven't yet mentioned that this is the "rainy season." There is no spring or fall in Costa Rica. The seasons are called verano (summer) and invierno (winter).They are just a dry season (December to April) and a rainy season (May to November). Temperature has more variation from night to day than from verano to invierno. Difference in daily temperatures averages 14°F to 18°F (8°C to 10°C). From November to January, cold breezes from the north funnel through the mountains of North America causing a little drop in temperature. This is one of the few countries in the world in which polar air gets this close to the equator. The warmest months are March, April, and May, and the wettest months are September and October. Rainfall amounts vary from less than 59 inches (1500mm) to more than 190 inches (4800mm) during these months. The country's average rainfall pattern is in the range of 79 to 158 inches (2,000 to 4,000 mm). Precipitation can come in the form of a tropical downpour with impressive lightning and thunder (aguacero),steady rain, or the less common, a continuous light rain for several days (temporal).

Even in the rainy season, rain will not fall all day, every day. It usually begins in early afternoon in the Central Valley (where I am, in Los Laureles de Escazu, a suburb Southwest of San Jose) and other highland areas, but later in the afternoon in the Pacific lowlands. Each season has its own beauty and unique characteristics. In wetter times the flora is profuse, with a vibrant life that gets into the soul. In the dry season the background is perfect for orchids, bougainvilleas, reina de la noche (queen of the night), as well as for colorful trees that flower only then. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ The lights are out. The party's over. The night before I left, we had home-made pecan pie. Delicious. I'm going to miss sleeping with the doors open. With no air-condioning. I'm going to miss little 9 year old Lisa kissing me good night. I'm going to miss my early morning coffee with Helge. And the late morning fruit plate of mangos, papayas and bananas.I'm going to miss my late night philosophical talks with Helge, wherein we solved most of the world's problems.I'm going to miss Helge, his wife Lorena, his son Paul, Lisa, 6 month old baby girl Cristel (who rarely cries), the maids, the toucan and the family environment. I'm going to miss Costa Rica - and all of its amenities.

What I'm not going to miss is the traffic. Worse than Houston, or Dallas, or D.C. Adios. Hasta la vista.

"Paradise is where I am." – Voltaire [Francois Marie Arouet], 1694-1778

Page 6: Bayou Packet #39

01 November 2008 The Bayou Packet # 39 Page 6 of 8

An irregular irreverent confabulation for the edification and delectation of podjos, friends, brothers, kith and kin of Jess Epps

Norse Cocina in Los Laureles de Escazu, Costa Rica

for the Haaversen Familia by Epps Architecture Consultancy

Page 7: Bayou Packet #39

01 November 2008 The Bayou Packet # 39 Page 7 of 8

An irregular irreverent confabulation for the edification and delectation of podjos, friends, brothers, kith and kin of Jess Epps

Ike’s Aftermath _____________________________ The water in Galveston Bay rose about 13.5 feet above normal, thus inundating Seabrook and all surrounding communities. My land is about 7 feet above sea level. There was evidence of about 6 feet of water in my lower stairway. Everything on my ground floor, including a storage shed crammed full of boat and other stuff, lots of valuable books, scads of old architectural records, etc., was all washed away. What a mess! _____________________________ My 1982 Avanti was floated out of the carport, into the backyard, and is a total loss. If I hadn’t already decided to sell it, I would be a lot more upset than I am. It was a joy to drive. And looked better than any other car on the road. _____________________________ My boat: Archangele and my floating office: ConsultanSEA were both stranded “on the hard” in the marina parking lot. Their dock was completely demolished. The boat is back in the water with only cosmetic damage, relocated to slip B-12. The office, which sustained some exterior cosmetic damage, is still on dry land and is for sale. _____________________________ A consequence of the him-icane (A different gendered her-icane) is the Grackles. Flocks of the them, their noise and their mess. A grave repercussion is the rats that were driven inside, their droppings and those of the the Gechoes. _____________________________

' L i f e i s n ' t a b ou t how to su r v i ve the s to rm ,

B u t h ow t o da nc e i n t he ra i n . ' _____________________________

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01 November 2008 The Bayou Packet # 39 Page 8 of 8

An irregular irreverent confabulation for the edification and delectation of podjos, friends, brothers, kith and kin of Jess Epps

A Tribute for Services Above and Beyond To Ms. Marcia Jean Jones, widow of the late Edward Jones, past Worshipful Master of the Clear Lake Masonic Lodge 1417, of which I am an officer: Tyler, this year. During my recent incapacitation (see above), she volunteered her help. She has been my caregiver, my cook and bottle-washer, my laundress, my seamstress, my gardener, my driver, She does my heavy lifting. I do what I can, which is very little, Marcia does the rest, which is a whole lot. After Ike hit my domain with all its fury, she was my scullery maid and clean-up crew. She has done my spring-cleaning, in the fall. She formerly fed, walked and cared for my two Australian Cattle dogs: Blue and Ruby - which is a big chore in itself. Now it’s just Ruby – but she’s still a handful. Her help, in all areas, has been absolutely great. On a par with Florence Nightingale. My vocabulary is not adequate enough to thank her enough. Blue, in his Sailing Days Blue, in his Last Days

Ruby sends her love to you and Blue, Mother and Daddy, and all our departed friends, as do I. Me, I remain diagonally parked in a parallel universe, not knowing if my internal compass is more inerrant than askew. This is being published on the fourth anniversary of your quietus, which is still felt deeply by me and Ruby, and all the others you left behind.

Your Loving Husband: Jess

Jess Epps, 32º AASR Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite

Valley of Galveston Mother Consistory of Texas

Orient of Texas

"The lips of wisdom are closed except to the ears of

understanding."

Jess Epps, Architect

_____________________________

EPPS

ARCHITECTURE CONSULTANCY

_____________________________

Mail: P.O. Box 476 Seabrook, TX 77586-0476 Ship: 817 Bryan Avenue (West Corner at 5th Street) Seabrook, TX 77586-3814 Telephones: 281+474-2292 Residence + Office 281+468-4626 Mobile Faxes: 281+474-5002 Office 561+760-8113 Office via E-Mail E-Mail: [email protected]

In a world without fences and walls, who needs Gates and Windows?