Firenze - Day in the life of an Italian Toursist

This day started at 2AM in the morning in my hotel in Assisi. My throat was on fire with thirst. I realize that I have not had any water ALL DAY!!!! in Assisi. Even including the two hour hike up and down the mountain. We were so happy to have gotten unlost and found our hotel and that the restaurant was open that I ordered a bottle of wine instead and NEVER any aqua naturale.

I am desperate and even drink the water from the bathroom sink (foreign country, not a good idea.) Puita wakes up next to me because she thinks she hears something at the window. We turn on the light. Nope. "I've GOT to get some water." I hopefully meander out the hotel knowing I will not find a vending machine. Nope. I wander all around. I push into the second dining room of the restaruant. A ha! A FULL bottle of water sitting on the table. I proudly bring Puita my "kill" and we gulp down the whole bottle in one swallow.

We are supposed to be going to Firenze on the 9:30 train, but we have three obstacles that we are too tired to care much about.

1: We do not have an alarm clock and I am not one for waking up without one.
2: There is a sign that says you cannot check out until 9:00 am. We most likely cannot checkout, find a taxi, ride the taxi to the train station and get on the train all in half an hour.
3: We are supposed to be meeting C in Firenze and don't know where or when because we cannot figure out how to use the damn phone. We tried all last night and cannot dial their number

7 AM - PUITA wakes me up. Wow, how did she manage to wake up? I am so impressed. While she takes her shower I fiddle around with the phone and somehow manage to call Cristina's cell phone! We will meet at the train station in Firenze at noon. If we miss our train due to the checkin issues we will meet her at 2Pm. Check. Time for 8AM breakfast.

8AM -- We are in a state of bliss drinking our Cafe Latte's and pastries and juice and yogurt. We notice that other individuals have left their wine bottles on the table from the night before, I guess they have a designated table. It is at this point that I realize that I stole someone else's water last night, and... phone call? C wants to know if we can check out yet. We don't know, we were distracted by the Cafe Latte. We ask the waitress. Sure, she can check us out. Hot damn, all our troubles are over. I need another Cafe Latte, per favore.

9AM - We have the cutest little taxi driver. He tells us that he could have been our chichinoro (travel guide) while we were in Assisi and that next time we come he will show us more than just the religious things, he will show us the Roman ruins and other things in Assisi that are not on the travel guides. He tells us it is Pescado that we could only stay one day. We flip thorugh the Italian dictionary ( a pity). He gives us his card for next year when we come.

We sit in the same cafe that only yesterday we felt so foreign and timid in now with a swagger like we are now experienced tourists who can get around anywhere in Assisi. A couple comes up to us and asks if we live in Assisi! Can we tell them places to go. We have visited many of the Franciscan sites, we say. "We were hoping to find some gardens or Roman ruins." they tell us. hmmmm.... I know just the thing I say, and hand them the Chichinero's card. "He can set you up right."

10AM - We caught our train and I am dead asleep on it.

12 -- We arrive in Firenze and puita has to shake me awake, I have been dead as a doornail asleep.

1PM - We have met C at the train! She has a map and she has lots of things for us to see and we are running through the streets with the map. We are distracted by a booth that has Florentine stationary. Puita wants this for her roomy. oh la la it is muy bonita. I grab some for my coworkers who are doing my work for me right at this very moment.

1:30PM - We need lunch before we can go any further. We find a cafe that looks touristy but it is within a rocks throw from the stationary stand so we head towards it. I am becoming addicted to the minestrone soup over here. Must have some of this and puita and I split a tomato, basil and mozarella salad. yum yum yum. I am looking over my should and notice a cute Italiano is a few inches from me. Unbeknownst to me, Puita later tells us that he had been eating lunch further away, but changed tables to be right next to us. His friend joins him. They switch to English to say, "How is your girlfriend"? "You mean my sex?" "Ha ha, yes, your sex in the city!" They think this is very funny, and then switch back to Italian. Were they trying to impress us with this talk? Do they think that all American women are like the ones on Sex in the City? Perhaps they are conducting an experiment. C later talks about price of living in San Francisco, they interrupt her, "You do not like San Francisco?" C screws her face up into the most contemptuous one she can muster, pauses for a dagger killing moment and says curtly, "Yes, I like it." Then we continue on with our own conversation. No sex in this city, boys.

2PM -- We are headed to a museum. This is the one which has Michealangelo's Statue of David in it. The line wraps around the corner, but C has called ahead to make a reservation at 2 and there are only 5 people in this line. This must not be her first time as chichinera! It also has many of Michaelangelo's unfinished works, which are very cool to be able to see the different phases of a statue being made from a piece of marble. He seems to have started with the stomachs fisrt, then the legs and the face last.

There is also a whole room of original casts used for statues which are all around the city. This is very cool. The rest of the museum is of religious works mostly from the 1500's which were originally commissioned for different churches. They are very very beautiful. Different styles, from the early 1400 iconic to the realism..

4PM -- We head towards the cathedral in the center of town. C drops us off and heads out to shop. We head to the tour of the cathedral. We do not know what to expect. We are surprised to find ourselves climbing a very narrow stone staircase. We are even more surprised when we are still climbinb it 5 minutes later. We are surprised to find a beautifully shaped little open window with a spectacular view of the city. We are surprised the 10 minutes into this we are STILL climbing stairs. I am in a piss poor mood now. I do not know why we have payed 6 Euros to torture ourselves and further more... "Oh my God.... We are at the top of the cathedral where we can see the Cathedral's ceiling painting. It has the coolest painting ever. It just knocks the breath out of you. At the bottom are all sorts of scenes of torture by devils in hell and as you get to the top of the domed ceiling you can see the heavenly activities. There are octagonal stained glass windows that are just drop dead gorgeous. You don't mess around with the artists in Florence.

We head toward the exit and next thing you know we are CLIMBING! again! But we are already at the top of the Cathedral! I have now hit my cardio wall. I am panting like a dog in Charleston Summer after a long frisbee tossing fetch session. We finally emerge on the ROOFTOP overlooking all of Florence. Every irritation vanishes as I am overwhelmed with the beauty of the Florence Skyline. Florence is in a Valley, I amazedly think to myself. We have just come from the mountain top and now we are in the valley. The terracotta slate rooftops cover every building and I wonder how old this city is. As I listen to the ever present zoom zoom of the motor scoooters I close my eyes and try to picture what the sounds of the city would have been in Renaissance times and how long it would have taken to walk from one end of the city to the other. This must have seemed like a vast city in those days. It seems vast to me now. There is a silence and almost reverence amongst the rooftop dwellers as we all sit on a bench and ponder our place in history and this world taking in the scenery and memorizing this sight. Slowly we descend and regroup with C. "Oh, I forgot to tell you that there is a bit of a climb involved with this particular sight."

5:00 Shopping Time! - Now the REAL reason C has come to Firenze, and we thought it was to be our Chichinera. We start with an area she has just scoped out that has a huge open air goods market including a leather market. I have been hunting for a purse, and we feel this may be our chance. JACKPOT we all 3 find a purse. I get a beautiful leather flower belt, but depart STEAMING man at the guy for cutting it so that it fits EXACTLY the same as before and my pants are either still falling or giving me a wedgy.

A small stop at the view of the famous bridge over the river. Beautiful! This is what all the paintings of Florence show. I should be appreciating this but I am too busy fighting the urge to take off my belt and throw it in the river.

Next on the list, C knows where "Jewlry Lane" is. It's AMAZING! Silver to the North block and Gold to the South. C gets some good hits but PUITA and I are pretty much done with the shopping for today.

7PM - Our dinner reservation at Marcos. This is MAC's favorite restaurant in ALL of Italy so far, and that is saying a lot for these International Food Afficianados. C gives out his cards to all she meets and I hear rumor that his wife gave C one of her gorgeous Italian Table linens for free. SHhhhhh, Marcos is not supposed to know. We are first in for the evening and Marcos comes to chat with C in Italian for a while. He brings us all a glass of Champagne. The restaurant is so beautiful, and charming with stucco walls and iron metal light fixtues, with an unusual Italian linen runner hanging the length of the ceiling. The menus are beautifully tucked into Florentine Leather jackets. We have Bruschetta and Spinach FORENTINE! (Yes, this is where it comes from, olive oil and garlic.) For the main course Filet! The nightly special of Italian red wine (Yummmm) and the best tira misu anyone has ever tasted ANYWHERE! for desert. We are so moved by the meal, we all three actually have tears in our eyes. Multo Bene. This is what inspires people to kiss the cook.

9PM - Marcos calls us a Taxi to the station and we catch the last train back to Roma. Snoozerina here strikes again on the trip and we catch the bus to Chez Genung around midnight. It has been such a full, beautiful, moving day.

Assisi

Well this day is definitely going down as one of the most special in my life.

Puita and I are not too sure that we are going to be able to get train tickets and make it to the right city on the right day, but we are game to try.

While standing in the bus line, a kind Agent takes our arm and says I will help you! Assisi a Nove I insturct him. We have our ticket. Firenze tomorrow I tell him. Which turns into a ticket from Rome to Firenzi for tomorrow which will not do. Now we must exchange for Assisi to Firenze and Firenze to Roma. We now have five minutes to find the train. We have NO idea which one. While searching around at the terminal we get lost from each other. I ask an agent, "Treno" and show my ticket. He says something I do not understand at all. Suddently, it hits me what he has said. Due. Track two. I meander that way and bump into PUITA again. I think Due. Well the Due train departs at right time 9:36 but says another city. We shrug and hop on. The conductor announces the cities. Assisi. Alleluia. Five mintues later we are asked to move, we are in somebody elses seat?

We have to trade trains in Foligio. Thankfully there is only one train to choose from. It says Firenze. Again we shrug not knowing if this is the right one or not. In a short while we hear Assisi. Oh happy day we are here. Wow, it is cold and we have no jackets. We order Caffe Latte and Croissants in the station. Find a bus. Try to get on the bus. We were supposed to buy tickets in the magazine shop. He waits for us to buy our tickets. Hey, we are on our way. We head to the Basilica of St. Francis. We see fleece jackets in a shop and snag a few of those. Wow, Assisi is just BEAUTIFUL. It looks like a ski town all nestled into the side of a mountain, but all the buildings are so old and made of stones and ladder step one on top of the other, each peeeking above the other over the valley below. It is the country out here and when you turn to look at the valley below it looks like a fake movie set. There are farm pastures and mist hovering over and little trees here and there with a basilica rising in the distance. The air smells so clean and it is not as loud or busy as the city. It is very very peaceful here. The basilica of St. Frances is so majestic and dwarfs any other close building. It is not ornate as the Vatican. It is more stone but absolutely beautiful. We head inside and move immediately down to the tomb of St. Francis. Wow, all is hushed. We move down, down, down into a crypt with little wooden pews. We buy a few candles to bit lit under his tomb for your intentions. We have come to Assisi to pray for our intentions. We have talked about doing so for a year and now here we are. The moment has come to pray. We shuffle quietly in the line up to his tomb. There it is. Above a tiny altar, nestled in the middle of a stone pillar, his coffin. We kneel on the side of the altar and look up to the remains of this humble, simple man who revolutionized the church with his simplicity in a time of decadence and overindulgence not to different from modern times in general. We pray for our vocations. We bring the intentions of our friends we have carried within our hearts from the US and we lay them at the base of Francis to ask him to present to our lord for us. I had read that Francis had a friend who was a married woman with two children, Jacobi who was Francis' "Veronica". When he was on his deathbed he called for her to be by his side and comfort him as he was dying. She asked to be buried close to him. She was the first secular Franciscan. On our way back out of the crypt I see her headstone. She is directly across from Frances, closer than even Clare. Since she was a married woman, I ask for her to pray for my vocation.

Time for lunch, but a pizza shop is all that is open. Next comes San Damiano. The bus drops us off and we head down this delightful mountain lane with vineyards on either side of us. We are the only ones on the lane. This is so completely beautiful and charming. We take a bizillion pictures on the way. We reach the church. Silenzio signs are everywhere. This was where St. Francis saw Christ speak to him on the Crucifix, "Francis rebuild my church." Also, St. Clare had her first monastery here. We enter the little chapel where Christ spoke to Francis, the Portciuncula. This is such a special building for me because we have a replica of it in Steubenville on the campus, and I have had so many fruitful prayer times there in Ohio. We had the blessed sacrament exposed 24 hours seven days a week there. The "Port" the students all called it. Here I am, in the real port. It does look so similar. Here I am. Where Jesus spoke to Francis, where the Franciscan order began, where the revolution of earnest simplicity began in the church. I am sitting in the EXACT spot. I pray that Jesus will speak to me now and let me know what he desires of me in my life. I pray a decade of the rosary. I gaze up at the huge Franciscan Crucifix into Jesus' eyes and I am held captivated there. It so peaceful and calming to be here with him. After so many grand and spectacular buildings it is calming to be in such a small, simple and intimate spot with Jesus. Alone with him in the mountains of Italy. I don't want to leave. Jesus does not speak to me directly like he did to Francis, but I did feel that what God wants from me is to help him to build the church in Dallas. This is such a Franciscan spirit. I think of the Peruvian and how he started Eucharistic Adoration at his church. He definitely has a heart to help build in the church. He would be a good companion for these efforts. Well, I don't know exactly what God wants me to do, but I pray that when I get back to Dallas he will show me.

We continue walking around the grounds and see the little stone room where all the St. Clares slept on the stone ground, their dormitory. We see the square. Again, what holy ground we are walking on, the same halls as St. Clare and her cloistered nuns. We find lovely watercolors of Assisi in the shop.

Next on our stop is the Basilica of St. Claire, but we miss this stop and get off on the next one, Piazza Matteo. We see on the map that there is a 4KM walk to a remote church where St. Francis lived. This seems like a good idea at the time. We start walking. After 15 minutes I am panting like a dog. What we failed to realize is that we are in the mountains! This will be 2.5 mile hike up gruelling hills, and we are carrying our bags as well as now the stupid paintings. We trudge along a while longer. We have been hiking for 40 minutes now. We don't even know if we are on the right road, there is no sign and no other people at all. Puita is not sure if we are on the right road. Well, we've put this much into I say let's go another 10 minutes and we can turn around if we don't see anything. Puita, who is trianing for a marathon is not even breathing hard. I have reached my limit of physical exertion. I can see now, that she doesn't want to stop. My pace is slowing and at each bend she races ahead to look up to see if she sees anything. We reach the 10 minute mark. It is time to go back. We are both distraught. This is supposed to be a pilgrimage for our vocations. What does it symbolize if we walk a long laborious path but never reach our destinations! Despondently, I say, well let's go to next switchback and see if we see anything. We get there. We have both resolved ourselves that we will turn around, and that the lesson must be that we can't know what is ahead of us. Damn if there is not the very first sign we have seen for the past 45 minutes. EREMO, 1KM. We ARE on the right path. We WILL reach our destination. We are jubilant on so many levels. Puita looks expectantly at me with those big eyes that silently say,"Can you make it?" "I'll take your bag she says." "I can make it 1 more Kilometer I say." The sun is sinking, and we know that we will be hiking back down in the dark. We are slightly worried about this but nothing is going to stop us from making the top of the mountain now. We arrive at the gates of this "little oasis in the woods," the brochure says. There is a group of a half dozen Italians. "Uschita!" they cry out Closed!. You've got to be kidding me. We look at him so despondently as we gasp for breaths. He looks at us and holds up seven fingers. O.K. you have until 7 he must be saying in Italian. It is 6:15. We run inside. This is again, a most glorious spot. It is at the top of the mounatin, nestled into a side of it and the views over the mountain are spectacular. You are in the middle of the woods. We climb into the small little chapel inside. Chiasini de Bernardino. It is no bigger than a dining room. There are two individual kneelers. We each plop down into one and without words bow our heads in prayer. Our hearts are full, we have reached this little oasis in the woods, after a long journey of doubts and exhaustion and irritation and small signs we are here in this intimate spot, where God is telling us that we will meet our destination. We have our picture taken on self timer. We are simply giddy and skipping along. We head back down the mountain in the dark. The Italian man points to the sky and says bella stella. The beautiful stars. Going down is easier, but still work. So, all will not be simplicity once we have found our vocations, we still must work, but its downhill and the stars are beautiful. Half way down a french family picks us up. We tell them we are from Dallas. The boy says the only time I went to dallas was on my trip to Peru. Peru huh? We reach our hotel around 8pm completely exhausted. We plop on our beds and look up. A picture of two pink roses. One is blooming, one is a bud. Hmmm.. Little signs upon the way. A beautiful encouragement to keep climbing though you know not the final destination.

We have dinner in what be the quantest little restaruant in the hotel sole. An Italian man comes over to chat with us. He is an art teacher. He taught at the University of Dallas in Irving! Wow! How amazing and what a small world. He gives us tips on what to see in Firenze the next day. We wish him good night and climb the stairs to our rooms. We have no alarm clock and there is not one in the hotel. We are not sure how we will wake up for our train. We are supposed to meet C in Firenze but we have not made arrangements with her and we cannot figure out how to work the phone. We shrug for the millionth time that day, trusting that thing will work out how they will and we drift off into blessed sleep.

What kind of Mexican are you?

We slept in and caught up on our rest this morning. In the afternoon we headed out to St. Peter's Square.... C brought us in through the columns entrance. She explains to us that this is how Bernini intended for viewers to enter the square. Since his time, folks have created a big street leading into the square, whereby you see the Vatican from far away and it just gradually keeps getting bigger and bigger, and by the time you get to it you are not too impressed with it any more. However, if you enter through the columns then you see it all at once and you are overwhelmed with the scale and beauty. Also, he intended the round buildings encircling the square to be like mother's arms reaching out to hug her childeren. This is such a beautiful design. And the moment you enter, you just suck in your breath to see such magnificence around you and not to mention that you are in the cradle of life for the Catholic church. The obelisk in the middle marks where the tomb of St. Peters is. Talk about Tradition with a capitol T.

It strikes me after visiting Roman ruins that such a magnificent culture in terms of progress and culture was brought to such absolute ruin in the period of 2000 years. When you see renderings of how magnificent these buildings were its so hard to imagine that they are simply now gone. Nothing but a small pile of rubble now. But the place where the tomb of st. peter is buried is still there. The church is the ultimate culture, and probably will still be there in another 2000. Our culture is simply nothing without Christ.

Walking up to the altar where the Pope has his outside masses, I feel like I am walking over the very steps that John Paul II walked so many times, and also so many pope before him. What Holy ground. Entering, you see the Pieta first off to your right. It strikes me as smaller than I envisioned, but absolutely beautiful to see in 3 dimensions. So feminine and soft. You can feel Mary's gentle spirit just by looking at it. Of course the altar and the Holy Spirit Euchrast Holder thingy by Bernini is spectacular. In no other spot have I ever felt so powerfully the majesty and grandeur of God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Their presence here is palpable. Another favorite spot was some crypt which has a golden skeleton over the door with has an arm reaching out of the crypt, desperately clutching an hourglass. Carpe Diem indeed.

Next we have to visit the "WalMart" of religious artificats to grab keychains, Rosaires, Holy Cards.... etc. We find some delightful Venecian glass and all three get a necklace.

We head to Testavere for dinner. Testavere is on the other side of the Tiber river from "Downtown" Rome and is considered more the artists area. The sun is sinking as we stroll down the little cobblestone alleys. We stop to have a half bottle of wine and little free snacks in a very romantic cafe. It is good to sit and talk about life and the stresses we each have in our work.
We stroll down the street to see the jewelry craft stands. Each stand has their delightful selection and a lantern burning in the middle of their stand. As you look over the selection the guy moves the lantern in the same direction. PUITA and I each get a lovely scarf. I just can't describe how romantic this street is with little lights burning and all the artisians with their goods displayed. Sigh, we are so peaceful. We head to the restaurant. C swears that we must try the veal chop, while she goes for soup. The veal chop tastes like the best pork chop that melts in your mouth you have ever had. Cristina asks for Parmesan cheese in her soup. The waiter gives her a little scowl and says something to her in Italian. "He doesn't want me to combine Parmesan with the soup." C lets us know. The Italians are very particular with what they think goes with each other in terms of food. "Mexicana" I tell the Waiter, shrugging and pointing to C. After a few minutes, he comes back and is waving his hands wildly, "Don't you want pepper in your soup!" "Well you didn't offer me any!" teases C, "Yes, bring me pepper!". "What kind of Mexican ARE you! , no pepper in your soup" he shouts with his hands raised to the sky! We alll nearly fall of our chairs laughing. And for his penance, we make him take a picture of all of us in front of the restaurant!

Princess up in the air

We picked up princess uita at the airport yesterday. Matt and I brought our coffee on the train with us in the american sized coffee cups and got some strange looks from Romans who can't imagine drinking out of anything larger than a shot glass. She was radiant and gorgeous and excited. We discovered that I had botched communicating the request to have her bring one of the Genungs boxes. The one containing EARPLUGS which now that I have slept a few nights here I can see the need for. The streets are very busy and lots of traffic and car alarms going off and well you know,,,, its a big CITY. Puita keeps saying I"m so Excited, I hope you don't get sick of hearing me say this. "We'll tell you if we do," pipes Matteo, "If we had our earplugs we could use them"!

We head downtown to central Rome for Lunch. MMMMMMMMMMMMM. You know, I'm not really a food lover, kind of a pain in the ass to deal with food severl times a day if you ask me, but this Roman food is even getting me excited about eating. We sat at the most lovely outdoor cafe in the alley and PUITA and I split a bowl of spicy tomato pasta with sausage pizza. Some English couple squeezed into the tables next to us and proceeded to entertain us throughout the meal with their wisecracks and stories. They are on a cruise and Matt translates their lunch request for them. THey offer to pay for our lunch, which I thought was great, but the rest of the crew had their pride.

MAC take us around the corner to show us a gorgeous column with a HUGE statue of St. Paul with his huge sword on the top. I'll have to research this later, but I think the column may be Roman with St. Paul added on top later. Then MAC have to go resume their regularly programmed lives for the day and PUITA and I are left to fend for ourselves.....!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thankfully I have my pop-up map which I bought in Atlanta in honor of JOey on friends, who has such a contraption in London and has to "Step into the map" to figure out whether to turn left or right at any turn. It is extremely groovy and folds back up into my purse to the size of a wallet. PUITA and I remember that it is Sunday and MAC give us many rapido directions on where to go to find a church, and the arm of saint so and so is in the basement and turn at this piazza and see this thing and turn a hard right but not to hard. PUITA and I just blink a few times and stare blankly back at them trying to shake the jetlag from our heads to understand one word that they are saying. Finally, MATT has to step into the map to show me where the church is and we get it now.

We set off to find the church and the door is closed. We circle the hold damn block and try every door of the Gesu but no luck. We are just positive that Cris has told us at some point during the discourse how to get in here and check the times for mass but we simply cannot remember what whe said and we feel like losers as tourists from the get go on our first assignment. We hang our heads then look up in the sky and see several large building with crosses on the top that we feel sure our churches. We wander around and discover the times on the outside of one. Ah ha! The churches close from noon to 4:30. We are NOT losers after all. We see yet another church and wander after it to see if it opens earlier for a mass, but the closer we get to it, the more we cannot see the top and cannot seem to find such an impossibly large building. Scratching our heads we decide to sit down and relax and drink a cafe instead of carrying on with all this church nonsense any longer. We decide to just roam the alleys and lose ourself in the city. It is marvelous. All of the cobblestone streets feel like little hiking paths in a mountain to me. But instead they are streets with little shop doors open to the air and gelato shops every few doors with mountains of European large buildings on each side with the big windows and shutters and flowers hanging on the balconies. This is probably my favorite part of the day. Finally, we spill out onto a large piazza with a big market and it is time to step back into the map to see where we are. Campo di Fiori! Land of the Flowers. a big famous market.

We wander back to Jesu by 4PM and see that mass is not until 7pm. PUITA is starting to hit the jetlag wall having not slept all night and we decide that we need some action to stay awake. We plot out a course to see the Trevi fountain and the Pantheon. O.K. we can remember a few things MAC has said. The Trevi is everything you read about and see about. It is gorgeous. We make our wish and throw our penny over our shoulder backwards and now we just wait for it to come true.

We meander back to the Pantheon and are serenaded by a violin player standing out in the alley here, or an accordian player standing out there. Wonderful Itialian music. There is a brass band at the Pantheon and we marvel at the inside of the single Roman structure left completely intanct that is not a ruin. It has a concerete cast dome with a whole in the ceiling that is amazing to think was built with no modern construction tools.

Mass was.... in Italian.... We are proud of ourselves to have stayed awake through it and even more proud of ourselves that got off of the right bus stop in the dark and remembered how to get back to MACS. We are eating the sausage cheese and olives and can't beleive that we are really in Italy and really get to stay here for a whole week. We are ready to pass out.... Buena Nocha! Good NIght and Good Luck!

Bella Roma

I arrived in Rome yesterday morning to a beautiful sign from Cristina and Matt for "Veronica". It was just a completely lovely day. I asked for latte and the guy arches his eyebrow at me, "Milk?". "Cafe?" I ask, hopefully? Cafe Latte! he explains. Ah ha! CAFE Latte. Does Starbucks know about this? Rome has an express Train from the airport to the main Train/Bus station downtown known simply as "Termini". It looks like an airport itself. Their little apartment is just beautiful with large long windows that open up to the outside. No bugs. A little balcony. Perfecto! This is our piazza, Cristina announces, Piazzi Fiurne. The box of dishes arrived with me with nothing broken.

We chit chat and head out to get lunch. Piccolo something or other. MMMMMMMMMM! Heaven! Vegetable Anti Pasta with peppers, mushrooms, oinions all marinated and stuffed with a breaded mixture. Marinated Artichokes and a little red wine. The big meal of the day is lunch, I am told.

Next we shop for staples... Water, both kinds.. (?) mozarella, cheese, (mozarella not considered cheese?), olives, sausage, nuts, fruit. I am amazed that it takes a twenty minute discussion to get a few kinds of cheese, and sausage. The lady wants us to try several kind before we decide. She looks at me and guesses , "Americana!" Si,, si,,,, So both kinds of water is sparkling and non sparkling. (oh yes, Pellogrino). A small stop at the wine store.. mmmmmmmm... I am also amazed at Cris and Matt's Italian. They are so fluent!

We dress for a deacon ordination. Cris shows me how to wear a scarf, EVERYONE wears a scarf. There is the cold and not cold way. Not cold, you take your time and around the neck, then a looser tie. The Cold way, fold in half and tuck the ends through the loop. Voila! Most Romans seem to be wearing the cold way. I show Cristina my "Quad", MAC eyeshadow holder. The ordination is at the Cathedral of Peter and Paul for Benedict. Benedict is never there, but it is the Cathedral of Rome. There is the most gorgeous statue of St. Francis and his brothers facing the Cathedral but across the street, must be at least 40 ft high. We have special "invitations" from Chris network of Seminarian friend connections. We sit down. Matt starts thumbing through the Italian program. He looks at me, "This is going to be really long." "It's O.K., I yawn, what two hours"? "Three." "Oh." "In Italian." "Oh." "I'm tired, says Cristina." We look at each other and all get up to leave. We see the Spanish Steps. Groovy. Tons of peeps hanging out here. We see a purse store and head straight for it. I'm looking for purses. The ones I look at are boring and low quality leather. Cris steers me towards the groovy ones. The one I like best has gold trim. Don't know if I can take the gold. "It's really more like brass." Matt says.

We're ready to drink. We find a lovely outdoor cafe and a bottle of vino. There are so many streets that aren't really streets, they are small little cobblestone alleys. The Cafe's are nestled against the alley wall with big white market umbrellas. It's multo charming. Baby G is hungry, so Chris and BG get a bowl of Zuppa.

At home, we must sample Matt's liqueur collection... Multo Bene. Also, we must wear slippers. M&C wear slippers and they have 10 pairs so that all the guests may also wear slippers. We settle into the Living room to talk about the Glory Days in Big D and suddenly there is a beautiful glass of champagne in my hand. Sigh... life simply does not get any better.

Pronto

I am on my way to Rome. I have stopped off at the Atlanta Airport for a layover. I will be making a pilgrimage to Assisi, and I have started the trip off the same Holy way that I do all of them, PRAYING that I make the flight! If you would like for me to pray for anything for you in Assisi, leave your request on this post and I will bring it to our Brown Clothed Brother!

Ciao Bellas!

Rossi

Because of the full moon...

Because of the full moon this weekend...
The Peruvian makes his public debut with my coworkers, who know him only as "Salsa Boy". I am cornered at every turn with "He is quite handsome." This seems to be the universal conclusion of all the women in the department. I am quite proud.


Because of the full moon ...
The Peruvian knocks on the door, his car will not start after dropping me off, though we just drove in it for 45 minutes.

Because of the moon..
I loan him my spare truck to drive home.

Because of the full moon this ...
I have received a ninety count bottle of sleeping pills from my mothers aunt and decide to take one.

Because of the full moon..
The Peruvian calls and the truck has broken down half way home. I must go pick him up and I'm fairly sure the bottle said somewhere on it not to mess with heavy equipment or Jeeps or electric bottle openers, or some such.

Because of the full moon...
Following instructions as carefully as always, I meet him out at the Anatole Hotel where he has managed to pull off the side of the road.. We, Ahem, find out the problem. (was minor, we'll leave it at that) only to be suddenly harrased by the security guard who shines his light in my eyes and tells me I was there last night and he knows because he recognizes my red hair?

Because the moon....
We attend 7:30 Mass and the moon has turned that golden yellow/brown... Harvest it is...
and I am so shocked to look next to me and see a man that is handsome who is praying oh so sincerely with his eyes closed and making some Hispanic version of the cross five times plus kiss your fingers at the end sitting next to me. The men who have sat there in the past were neither handsome nor were they paying attention to the proceedings in any form or fashion. My heart takes a leap similar to when I look up and catch one of those moons that is close to the horizon and larger than a house. When I come home, there is a pink rose sitting in a vase from a friend at the door, which is St. Therese's way of letting me know that she's keeping after God for me. My heart is full, and it must be because of the full moon this weekend.

Drowning Rose

These moments come at the beginning of every month....

Working in a financial department is an ebb and flow that pulses to the commercial world's heart beat... Each compression of this heart brings the blood of my labor rushing and squeezing through the compressed arteries of data moving through deadlines....

Though I realize that losing a million dollars somewhere in the computer is a rather critical thing, I understand not why I must enter into that ritual of working into the wee hours of the night over it. I understand not why some people are worried they will lose their jobs and not be able to support their families over this and it brings out the dark and animalistic side of all involved. Why must I have a row with the person refusing to help me that would make a good Irish pub brawl proud. Maybe the problem here is that I am sober through this process?

Send out an Amber Alert... some data has gone to some wicked end... And so here I sit for the past week in a dawn to dusk search and rescue mission. I am command and control... Calling in the federal agents and the search dogs .... Plotting progress and maps of areas searched and results found. I have my whistle and I am weary.

We have cleaned up this disaster area of most of its debris. The Financial City is breathing a bit easier with all of this progress made. Soon we will be entering the dystole ebb where we go limp from the presusure of the backflush and rest of the heart. Then... we will sit out on our porches and smell in the clean air of the cool mornings of this new season. Then... we will look around and see that each 1 and 0 has nestled into its correct column and we will lift our heads to see that other cities are still rebuilding. These are live cities with hearts of flesh and needs that are personal and we will bow our heads down again to pray for them and to roll up our sleeves to join in the efforts.

Austin City Limits

Some weekends you just have the need to get out of dodge. Anywhere away from a house that just keeps reminding you of what a failure you are at doing errands. "Umm, by the way, you still don't have a hot water faucet." snoots the sink. "Stand in line," Pipes the garage, "These newspapers to recycle have been piling up since Christmas". "That's gonna be one neked girl if she don't get this laundry up and out of here." quips the bedroom carpet.

One must flee these haunting voices to an apartment that is clean and cool and very far away. At times like these you need your super chill friends. Ones who don't mind meandering about the weekend and aren't glued to their schedules, ones who can dance and drink and stay up late or sleep in late or spontaneously run to the park or hang out for hours on the balcony, whenever you feel like doing it. Enter M, brother of friend Mb, who so gallantly invites us to crash in is place and drive us from spot to spot in the city while bringing us beverages from the bar.

I know our plan is hatching beautifully when on Friday afternoon I can get off of work early despite it being the end of the fiscal month, my People arrives on a Friday, Mb arrives with authentic Mex/Mex for dinner and the Peruvian arrives on time with the car washed and gased. We reach for a glass of Red wine and a spork.

We arrive at the Speakeasy on 5th street around 11pm and the band Mingo Fishtrap http://www.mingofishtrap.comis just getting ready to tune up. At the first soulful belt of a note," Oh Mississippi won't you let me come be free" the horns answer with a melancholic answer. I lean back against the wall with my Negro Modello and a lime and I can now no longer remember my name or my number.


This state of mind lasts into Saturday morning's bagel and balcony lounge, the cool afternoon's natural poolside snooze with spontaneous bongo/cowbell serenade, evening's Authentic Ribs, nighttime's Salsa dancing, Sunday's celebration of the Feast of St. Therese and veneration of her Relics!, ending with the afternoon at The Oasis' spectacular view of Lake Travis in the Hill Country for lunch. What have I done to deserve such company, such peace and such environ of all the senses?

Not until Jeep and I swing into work and I logon to the electronical stream of work email conversations am I reminded once again that I am the one who solves certain probelms and somebody needs a number...