I had the chance to visit the Getty Museum today and it was a wonderful, albeit short visit.
Before we checked out an exhibit on the art of Florence at the dawn of the Renaissance, my family and I had a bite to eat at the museum cafe. As we sat there on the marble patio, sipping wine and eating our sandwiches, my mom made a comment about it being a quintessential California day. She was so right.
Over the weekend, I turned another year older. It’s hard to believe just how fast time flies, but here I am, moving towards one of those big milestone birthdays. Hmmm.
Well, given the alternative, I’ll take my birthday any time. Since I was able to celebrate with a lot of my family this year, it felt extra special.
Even though we didn’t get the usual sunny weather California is well-known for, even in winter, I missed another snowfall at home. I’ve lucked out so far this year, and really haven’t touched my snow shovel. Well, that’s fine with me.
I had the chance to sit down with some friends last week to begin the process of talking through my doctoral project. We bounced around ideas and concepts from St. Ignatius, Scripture passages, and just general thoughts as to where I should head.
A point we all kept coming back to is that many people who might be drawn to what I have to say and who might consider taking part in one of my retreats will more than likely feel a sense of brokenness.
Honesty is important in blogging, don’t you think? So, I want to admit that when I first saw this recipe in a magazine, I wasn’t too excited to try it.
I was on a layover at the Phoenix airport, and browsing a magazine rack, I picked up the latest edition of Phoenix Home and Garden. With plenty of time to burn, I flipped through the pages and found an article entitled Cabbage Is King.
Yesterday, I had a business meeting which took me to Georgetown, one of Washington DC’s many neighborhoods.
When the meeting was over, I asked someone how to get to the nearest Metro station. It was about a mile away, and since the day was sunny and warm, I decided to walk, mostly on Q Street.
I don’t know about you, but I love to explore new places. I’ve been to Washington DC hundreds of times over the years, and now I go to grad school there, but I’ve never walked the quiet streets of Georgetown.
Strolling towards my destination, I was impressed by the various styles of architecture all around me. Small homes, mansions, all appearing very old, were built quite close together. As I made my way towards the Metro Station, single homes had given way to apartment buildings. I guess the land had become just too expensive.
Near the end of my walk, I crossed Dumbarton Bridge, built just before World War One. This bridge is also known as Buffalo Bridge, thanks to the four massive bronze sculptures that mark the bridge’s corners. I always love it when I come upon something unexpected, especially works of art. I thought for a moment that, if I had to cross this bridge each day, would I quickly stop paying attention to the majestic beauty of these sculptures? Probably.
On the other side of the bridge, I began seeing huge and grand old homes. Out front, unusual flags were flying. Ah, the embassies. How lucky those people are to work in such places, but I’m guessing they too would be less impressed as time went on.
So, the next time you have the chance, take a walk or a drive on a road less traveled. Pay attention to how people make their mark on the places they live. I hope I never stop enjoying the sight of new places and things. Maybe it will keep my mind sharp. Let’s hope so 🙂
A few days after Christmas, some of my family came together again for a simple dinner.
My mom had asked Deirdre, my brother’s wife, to make this tart, which she found in The Tuscan Sun Cookbook by Frances Mayes. Dierdre did a superb job, and the tart tasted as good as it looks 🙂 I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as we did. Grazie mille, Deirdre!
Today, I had the chance to visit the nearby shrine of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, the first canonized saint born in the United States.
About a twenty-minute drive from my house, I enjoy travelling down the country road to the sleepy town of Emmitsburg, where Mother Seton founded both a religious order and a girl’s school in the early 1800’s.
I love the fact that Mother Seton would have traveled on the same road I drove on all those years ago, except she was traveling in a carriage pulled by horses, and the road unpaved.