Last day at the desk on Friday, Barcelona on Saturday where I shall proudly exercise my South American Spanish for a few days, and then at long last, my much lusted after Paris. Come to mama.
Entering the home strech here, bittersweetly. This past weekend was both painful and glorious - I know I am laying on the drama thick, but if you have seen me butter toast, nothing new around these parts.
Saturday, I accidently hiked to one of St. Francis' original convents, built in 1192. After walking up hill through Tuscan countryside, whabam! Original chapel, some sort of miraculous spring, statue. What do you know. That last "I should bring my camera" thought went regrettably ignored, which leaves only the fragile and elastic medium of memory to comemerate the occasion.
And now this, I suppose.
I went to Rimini for the day yesterday;
my how I love seeing things out of context.
A consistantly well-coiffed lady without her make up on, scientific facts written for the "layman" (have you read The Selfish Gene?), children around a board table.
Italy's biggest summertime party spot, on a cloudy Sunday around 13:00.
Running into Bastyr students in San Sepolcro.
ANNOUNCEMENT
I am running the Seattle Marathon (now I have to) and I am 95% sure I have convinced my brother to walk the 26.2 as well. More on this later.
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