Thursday, December 27, 2012


is tiring.

Where I found the milk on Monday morning, after making tea. I looked in the fridge and thought, "I was sure I had some left..."

First Christmas tree in five years...bought in Rome,

stuffed into a tiny Roman cab, heaved onto the train and brought safely home by our friend Kevin. Tree decorating party on Sunday, mulled wine, cake...

My nativity set, a gift from a friend last year.

Shopping for tree decorations and presents on Saturday afternoon; this man was sitting playing this lovely instrument. It looked like a combination of lute and lyre.


Signage in Venice: encapsulates everything about Italy one needs to know. Never ask an Italian for directions.

Tea in a tea room on the Rio Maren in Venice. Coziest place I've ever been in this country. Run by a nice Venetian couple who had lived many years abroad. (Note Willow Pattern plate).

The husband was a painter and liked to paint animals, and clearly did so in North America. Not a lot of raccoons and Canada geese around here.

Mass for the third Sunday in Advent at the FSSP parish in Venice, on the Grand Canal.

Novusordoism everywhere in Venice...
That little glowing point of light at the back where the altar used to be is from a CD player that was running an endless loop of some kind of neo-Catholic New-movementy music... to lend a 'religious' air to this ancient, Byzantine church.


For some reason, I could not resist the urge to go around Venice taking photos of all the People's Trestle Tables that had been set up in the wake of the Asteroid in the sanctuaries of these old churches. And the Presiders' Chairs and Holy Microphones placed exactly to send the clearest possible message; right in front of the Tabernacle with the priest's face to The World, and his back to Christ.

Venice, early in the winter morning.

Setting off for Mass and then home on Sunday morning.

Fancy shops near St. Mark's

Live like a Venetian prince... shops near San Zaccharia


Found Religion at San Zaccharia... got there just in time for the parish Holy Hour.

The organist had to come out and ask the six chattering old ladies to be silent. I was the only one with a mantilla.

Giovanni Bellini: my new favourite Italian painter.

Favourite crucifix in Venice.

"Gondola ride, Madame?"
"No, grazie. Questo e troppo caro, per me."



Gerald said...

We shall need a Catholic billionaire to help pay for the restoration of all these uncountable thousands of church sanctuaries---at least when a new generation of non-Stalinist bishops comes in that does not de facto forbid such restorations.

Teresa B. said...

I was going to comment on the fur but CHOCOLATE GRAPPA!!!
I am made to eat the grapes doused in this at my husband's relatives in Hamilton.
I could eat those grapes with this though!

John said...

Chocolate grappa: yea, I wondered about that. Could chocolate make grappa palatable?

My friend Carlo used to love the stuff. Uh, that's the plain, non-chocolate variety. He had to have a special kind from, IIRC, Trentino. I don't know whether the Trentino variety was better whether it was just that it was made a stone's throw from his home place. It was waaaay too high octane for me. He'd splash a dollop of it in your cappucino if you weren't careful. Even diluted* in the coffee it could make your eyes light up and say "Howdy!"

I envy you Venice; beats the sox off Long Beach.


(*"Diluted" may be the wrong word to describe Carlo's cappucino. Pretty potent concoction in its own right.)

Teresa B. said...

I have left milk in my cupboard more than once. Worse when my kids call me out on it and tell everyone.

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