He had just completed two flights from Seattle to Newark, then JFK to Rome, and he had just a few hours in Rome before hopping another flight to Istanbul. Somewhere in his rush to see as much of Rome as he could, he zagged when he should have zigged, and found himself in front of St. Paul’s Basilica (also known as the Papal Basilica St. Paul Outside-the-Walls) instead of the the more popular tourist destinations.
He said it wasn’t even all that much to look at from the outside, deserted even, but once he entered the gates – wow.
Sometimes that’s how it works. Sometimes it’s the errant zags that lead us to the magic – magic we wouldn’t have found if we weren’t in motion in the first place.
…
I’ve been googling all morning, and I still haven’t figured out why “Outside-the-Walls” is so important that it became a crucial part of this basilica’s name. If any of you know, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
My husband just returned from a quick trip to Istanbul, where he presented a paper at the International Society for Iranian Studies conference. If you ever wanted someone with whom to discuss the Gothic Sublime, and repetition and imagery in Sadeq Hedayat’s The Blind Owl, I’ve got your man. Also, here’s some pictures he took of Istanbul.
Unfortunately, he had no time for sightseeing, but I think he got some great shots.
Above photos are all by Aaron Albert Haley
Check out Walking on Travels for more adventure tales from bloggers.
Oh, I love me some farmers markets. I love the festival feeling. I love the little individual stalls. I love the flowers. I love the fruits and vegetables. I love the hand made goods. I love being out and about, milling around other people admiring all these things I love.
As it turns out, this week has been designated Farmers Market Week here in the State of Washington. Farms and fresh food are definitely something worth celebrating, if you ask me.
Gem loves the markets as well. She loves the flowers, especially, and all the colors, the crowds, the blueberries, and all the energy.
Today, we went to the farmers market in Renton. This one had a bonus of a kids area, staffed with volunteers, with homemade play-dough and cookie cutters to make ornaments.
Gem was so taken with the dahlias that an elderly woman working in one of the stalls gave her one. Gem was beside herself.
Then she spent the rest of our time at the market looking for the white water-filled buckets that were used the anchor the tents.
Why?
Her flower needed water. So she she made a job for herself of finding all those water buckets, and dipped her flower’s stem in the water of every single one of those buckets at the market.
Our favorite activity at the Woodland Park Zoo is the bird feeding room. $1 for a stick of birdseed translates to more than your money’s worth in little girl giggles.
So far, we have not been able to get our act together and get to the right place and time to feed the giraffes – or the elephants. I have a feeling that might even eclipse feeding the birds.
I’m trying very hard to focus on the fun and adventure right in front of me and not let myself get jealous of everyone heading off to BlogHer, or my husband’s adventure to Istanbul.
I don’t like peas. I would almost go so far as to say that I hate peas. Well, not really. I can appreciate them in theory, I know they’re healthy, I just really, really don’t want to eat them.
But…
As a mom, I don’t want to pass along my pea issues to my kiddo. How do I give her opportunities to make up her own mind about peas without inadvertently influencing or limiting her own ability to enjoy them? I want her to like them, but it’s difficult not to shudder in their presence.
Well, true to form, my kid finds a way to make being her mom easy. (Yes, I know the teenage years are coming, and no I’m not prepared.)
She is completely enamored with the little garden out back at our favorite coffee shop, C & P Coffee Company. She loves to inspect and name off the different plants: rosemary, oregano, lettuce, peppers, tomatoes, strawberries, and, yes, peas. She doesn’t just name them, she works her way through that tiny garden like a little rabbit, munching away on strawberries and lettuce, and, yes, peas. (she tried the rosemary and oregano, as well. Once.)
This little garden makes it easy for me to get excited and show some enthusiasm for the peas. I love the flowers,
and I just can’t get enough of those curly tendrils.
And as I’m ooh-ing and ah-ing over these beautiful plants, getting lost in the moment with my camera, my precious little girl reaches up and hands me a baby pea as though she were giving me a gift. I couldn’t turn it down, so I ate it. And it wasn’t that bad.
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