To Lindsey another birthday post, and it is she who will understand it the most!

Twas the eve of her birthday and it was probably prudent

That I had no gift to give the miss minimalist student

I must do something for her to show her I care

So I put on my thinking cap and sat in my chair

Suddenly it came as quick as a flash

An idea that was brilliant, I’d thought of it fast.

“I’ll throw her a party,” I said with a grin.

And I laughed and I thought “I’ve outdone me again!”

With the help of my magical friend Harry Potter

My invites went out as a quick as penguins in water.

By the next evening, the venue decorated with glee

Was glowing like Christmas garnished with holly and wreaths.

Ding-dong! Went the bell and the first guests had arrived,

We gasped as we realized they weren’t even alive!

Oh the undead Cullen couple crashed with ease,

 

I guess Mr. Potter had a joke up his sleeve.

I rolled my eyes but saw Lindsey was delighted

Then came in Atlas and we all got excited.

Ariel and Mike became the first present givers

And then Greg came a-sailing on the great Boise river!

Cindy and Jim were already there!

Cindy was taking great pictures with all that love in the air.

Aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, and friends too (sigh)

All came to show up for dear Lindsey poo-poo-pie

And that, my friends, is where it all got exciting

Because more unusual guests were arriving.

In came the band, all their members intact.

Jesse began warming up so his voice wouldn’t crack. 

Then two freaks jumped out from behind the curtain, 

Lindsey fell down to her hero Tim Burton.

As soon as they hugged in came another crowd!

And we stood in awe as the ringbearer’s fellowship gathered round.

 

Trevor and I got a little carried away,

But came back to our senses when Gandalf started to say,

“I found this package that’s message is revealed only by fire,

but I fear, little Lindsey, it comes with evil desire.”

A threat rang out from the fire that ended the fun.

It said “I want to kill ever-y-one”

Then a crack and a boom and there appeared,

Lindsey’s evil twin who was widely feared. 

A green woman who was strangely obsessed with shoes

Screamed, “I’ll get you my pretty, and your little man too!”

 

She spit and she cackled and got on her broom

And set about terrorizing the room.

Everyone panicked but Lindsey said with a yawn,

“Ricky Butler says just douse her with water, and then she’ll be gone.”

If Ricky Butler said it, it must be true,

But that wicked old witch had turned all water to glue. 

When all hope was vanishing someone amazing hovered in.

The Flaming C had come and he brought his friends with him!

 

His fishnet stockings were making all of us double over

But he looked so daring with that flaming pot holder.

He said to the witch “We will end this tonight”

“Haha,” said she, “but I’ve brought your kryptonite!

You see up above in my tower,” she sniggered

“Is a cat with his finger carefully on the trigger!”

 

He shakily said, “A cat sniper!  I’ll die in an instant, I swear!

And with that the Flaming C and his friends disappeared.

Everyone held their breath as the witch simply smiled.

Trevor stepped forward, his eyes looking wild.

She snarled and said, “What do you want, my pretty?”

Surprising us all he cried, “AGUAMENTI!”

In his hand he held his homemade wand,

And water shot forth, enough for a pond!

The witch melted and cried, “What a world! What a world!”

But that’s what you get when you mess with his girl. 

He hadn’t forgotten about that kitten, refusing to fail.

He showed him a picture of this girl as blackmail.  

So Trevor saved the day, though he says this story is too long.

I still claim that I can do nothing wrong. 

We clapped and we cheered and Lindsey kissed him with pride,

But then we all hushed when someone else came inside.

A figure walked in from the storm,

The lights came back on and we all cried, “NORM!!”

He dropped off a present and sat down for respite

He said, “Happy Birthday to Lindsey!  Now bring me a pint!"

 

Happy Birthday Lindsey!  I can't give you a gift so let me give you an idea.  One of the most precious things I learned from you was to do what I love because I LOVE IT and do it when I want to.  You always encouraged me to "sing" (for example) even if I knew there would never be an audience.  Let me try to encourage you with that same inspiring care.  Now please, go pick up your guitar.  Write a song!  Sing it as loud as you can!  Know that there are so many of us who would love to be your audience at anytime, but distance separates us.  I hope you have a wonderful birthday!  I LOVE YOU!

Baby Surprise!

 It began Friday afternoon.  We drove to St. George to stay with Shanna's old missionary companion (where great stories were told).  We spent the night and then took off for Vegas.  Passed the most beautiful and amazing path through rough and red rocks.  Gorgeous.  The whole drive (with the exception of the time during our breathtaking view of rocks and ridges) we entertained ourselves by the reading of The Hunger Games.  I read to Shanna as she drove.  It was my second and her first time.  It is all I can do from not shouting out everything that happens to her.   

 We made it with the sometimes untrusty GPS to the house of the shower.  Hands shaking, stomach flipping, I walked through on tip toes to try to catch her at an ultimate surprise.  It came as a surprise to us that she wasn't there yet.  Shanna said, "I am going to go get my purse" and not 5 seconds later she was back at my side saying "Rachael's here!" We hid in the pantry and waited till she had said a few hellos.  I walked out and timidly waited till she saw me.  Love, hugs, happy sounds, more trembling with excitement.  I was stunned with happiness to be in the same room as someone who I consider one of my greatest friends again.  The same room as one of the special persons who I feel shaped me.  One more moment to always remember. 

*Video for Snickers . . . is not working.  :(

For Ashley

 

We kind of ended with "they get to be the jealous ones this time!"  It might be a little mean, but it was kindly meant.  What I mean by it was that we all have to take our turns sometimes to be the person that couldn't be there.  But who are we fooling.  We are all there in spirit!  

Love,

M. Jean

happiness is a warm gun . . . OR it's a UKULELE

I just love my uke.  I got it because after 2 years I finally realized I don't live with Lindsey anymore.  I have to make my own music.  Despite my lounge wear, a sickly voice (the worst part about being sick for me is not being able to sing-it has been four weeks . . . ), and nails not long enough to pluck very well, here is a little song for y'all.  

The Help

 Today I have the flu and have spent most of the night watching movies online in between bathroom runs.  I watched this movie in theaters with a group of women from my family and have wanted to watch it again since.  This was a great debut book from Kathryn Stockett.  I certainly loved reading it.  I was initially so angry about the fact that the film rights were bought before it had even been out a year.  Later I learned that the author's roommate is the director!  I love it when good friends work together.  That is the reason that this movie is THE BEST book-to-film that I have ever seen.  There are a few things I could pick at, but I won't even do it because it was so well done.  First, the performances by Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer were so inspiring.  They have actual connections to these maids.  Viola Davis said when asked about how she prepared for this role: "My grandmother was a maid, all of my aunts were maids!" It is just about a time that is not too distant. 

I was also so pleased with Bryce Dallas Howard as Hilly Holbrook.  Hilly is a villain.  In the book, as well as the movie, you just hate her.  Bryce did an amazing job.  In fact, when I first found out that she was cast I was so sad.  I really wanted Anne Hathaway to be the villain so I could hate her without anyone asking why.  However, after the movie I said to my mom, "It is a good thing that Anne Hathaway wasn't in it.  I would have hated her no matter what she did with the role.  Bryce is an actress I like, and she MADE me hate her."

  

And finally, my favorite person in the movie brought a character to life for me.  Jessica Chastain was so amazing.  I think she is my new favorite actress.  She was so darling in the role as Celia Foote.  She was tough but charming and delicate.  I won't spoil it for those who haven't seen it, but she had a few parts that just sold me.  I think she put 100% into expressing the character in every movement.

So here is to a great book and a great movie.  Emma Stone was asked what she thought was the number one thing people should take from this movie.  Without a breath she emphatically said, "Courage!"  I completely agree. 

Right place Right time

What a wonderful life I live.  As you all know by now,  I suddenly got a job at a preschool in Salt Lake City.  It has been a whirlwind couple of weeks, but I am in the groove now.  Without details, I just set up snacks, different centers, take pottiers, change diapers etc for two year old kids.  I love it.  I don't want to do it forever, but I think I will be here for a year or two.  So that is work. 

Now on to life.  Well, nine months in Europe pretty much wipes you out financially, so my choices of where to look for work were limited to Boise and Salt Lake (free rent).  I really did try to make Boise work.  I love it there and I have great friends and family there. And honestly, I pray all the time that Lindsey and I can live in the same town again someday, as I do with all you girls.  For some reason, it just wouldn't work out.  And, my heart wasn't in it.  I think I just knew I would be safe there. 

So I get this time to be near SHANNA!! She is the best and I love her. And Anna, and Sofia, the most beautiful baby in the world.  Seriously.  Except she always smells like puke. 

As soon as I moved here, I just felt like I was where I am supposed to be.  It is so much more than a mental thing. It is just my privilege at this time to feel so whole and connected.  Everything feels like it is exactly the right place at the right moment.  I feel the chi all around me.  Every step I take is happiness.  When I run, I just have so much more energy.  I have no trouble sleeping (a first for me).  I am just so grateful to be me.  To be Megan Whitlock.  More than ever, I feel like I was supposed to struggle through this past year so I could learn serenity and happiness.  Often I think, "Italy was so much harder than this.  I can do this."  I can't describe it.  I will probably blab more to get my point across.  I wish I could imprint this feeling onto something tangible so you might all know.  But I am sure that you have all felt the same, so all of this really isn't necessary.  So here is to a new chapter, as I like to call it.  I can't wait to see what it brings. 

“Design for Shabby Apple”

Megan Whitlock presents flapper chic for "Shabby Apple Dresses" (www.shabbyapple.com). This design was inspired by the flapper dresses in the 20's. I like to take busy things and simplify them. The color palette was chosen when I saw a little girl in a blue dress holding a pink pig. I hope that anyone who wears this dress chooses pink as their accessory color. The dress on the left would be made out of a matte polyester satin. On the shoulder seam and down the center of the sleeve I have embellished it with a silvery, beaded trim to add richness. The same design on the right is an example of how the dress could have a sheer overlay with a bold print with a little bit of lace sticking out the bottom. A small detail to the design would be to fray the edges to give the impression of a fringe look, a shout-out to the flapper fringe.

Sew-tacular!

I have been looking at Pinterest and the Cotton&Curls blog and it just made me rush to D.I. Which then made me get rid of some stuff. Anyways, I went in to get a large floral print something and came out with more stripes (counted up to 8 striped shirts already in my drawers/closet, tsk tsk.) Here is the before (I was already halfway through pinning when i remembered to take a before pic.


and now the after (photography by Lindsey-pie)




I love these shoes (straight from Italy) and the sand on the bottom. xoxo roma

So then I was going through stuff and you know what I found? Fabric. Specific fabric for Lindsey. Flashback to 2005 Christmas. I dragged Lindsey to the fabric section and had her pick out some fabric so that I could make her a purse. 6 years later I am pulling it out of a plastic bag. I got a FANTASTIC blue purse from D.I.


So I copied the pattern and finally made Lindsey's purse. I hope she likes it. I might have gotten a little carried away with the frill.




This is a tiny braided strap just for fun. I guess she can take off one strap or another if she wants to.



Thanks for attending this episode of SEW-tacular. Hope you enjoyed it!

John Donne said:

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

Rupert, ID

On the third leg of my journey home (LA to ID) I rode with an all time city girl. She is a world traveller and one of the most adventurist spirits. She knows Rupert, ID well and talked about the things she wanted to see there. Aguila's tacos and the Rupert Square were among the most important. She was describing Rupert to her family and talked about how it was the smallest type of town.

I started to defend my little home by saying things like "It isn't how they show small towns in the movies. The judge, the sheriff, and the richest man in town aren't all the same people. People don't know everybody's business ALL the time. And we use WIFI internet. It doesn't take 5 days to send an email or fix a car."

After debating whether it is best to raise a family in the country or the city and enjoying the differences we had quite an amazing trip and I had a familiar encounter with home.

We were just about to exit "town" and get on the main road to get to my house. My friend was speeding up in the lonely 25 mph zone. I glanced over and just as I was about to say "You might want to slow down" we saw the daunting flashing lights of blue and red.

WE stop. He stops. The usual expressions of panic filled the car. We saw a dark figure get out. Strangely, he chose to come to the passenger side. I rolled down my window and looked up into the face of the man who held my friend's fate and said,

"Hi Brother Dudley." This man has been known to stand up in church and declare that no matter who he went to church with he would still give them a ticket. He has always been a friendly guy and with a little prodding he started telling me all about his kids, "Well you know Mike don'tya?" No, but I nodded. I delighted in the new grandbaby. I told him about Italy. With the nicest exchange of words he said "Well, I am just going to give you a warning this time. Good to have you home." As he walked away I said "See you in church tomorrow!"

In the following days I gloried in walking around the fields and ditchbanks. I could see nothing but country for miles, that settled so softly in the twilight. I could smell the fresh cut hay . . . and the skunks. I was talking on the phone one night and did a loop around my house. I was just about to turn to go back when I looked up and saw a skunk 8 feet away from me. We both turned from each other and started sprinting. My dad, still on the phone with me, laughed at the encounter. I walked around my Aunt's house to avoid the skunky dwelling. I had almost reached my driveway when I saw it again! I did a weird curve to avoid it and sprinted to my house.

Flash forward a few weeks and imagine the square filled with everyone and sometimes their dogs. We had a five-day patriotic festival for the 4th of July. We had swing bands, blue-grass bands, country bands, and other types on our gazebo. Each night as I walked around and saw families reuinited for the most spectacular Rupert holiday I reflected on my experiences and thought how very wrong I was to say Rupert wasn't THAT small. In a matter of weeks I ended a conversation with a policeman with "see you in church", I escaped a skunk, I took 2 mile walks without seeing a soul, and I went to the biggest event of the year (came out with a tamale and fresh fries--a mark of the community I guess). It just doesn't get any more small town than that.

HP

Last night I had a historic moment. As I was in Italy at the time of this movie release, I refused to watch it on megavideo or in Italian. I have waited and waited. Luckily, my best friend's mom has a huge movie center and they indulged me. Lindsey, Trevor, and I watched it last night. Epic.

I had a Harry Potter breakdown the other day, you know, sad about it being over. I am so glad the movies have been salvaged so that the end will be a good end, even though it does keep the wounds open. I will walk the ends of the earth and know that one person will always understand and it helps me get through it all. The good news is that my best friend is married to said person so it is hard to feel like a third wheel. Love you Linsvor.

Home at Last

Chillin at the airport.

I did arrange a ride. I asked her and she said yes. The Relief Society President of Rome 1st ward said she would call me for better details. That was Sunday. Monday and Tuesday flew so outrageously fast that it was midnight before I realized that my ride hadn't called. I was out of credit on my phone (and I didn't have her phone number) but she had said she would try to be there at 8 a.m. to give me a ride to the airport, but she would call if the traffic was bad. I told her I could meet her at the metro stop. So I was waiting down there and tried to find the most apparent spot for me to stand. 8. 8:10. 8:15. 8:20. At 8:30 I knew I had to leave. So I took the metro (the thing I was trying to avoid by getting a ride). I made it up all the escalators, all 5 of them, with my bags. I managed to attract this sketchy man who helped me with my bags and gave me a ticket, and then kept a euro for "helping me with my bags" even though I told him no. Anyways, I got on the train and got to the airport right at the perfect time. I never received a phone call from the lady which means she completely forgot. I was mean for a moment and hoped that she showed up at my place a different day and got frustrated trying to find me.

Then I flew for 9 hours. Then I went through customs and re-entered the United States through New York. Then I bought a 5 dollar bottle of juice, and a book (Little Bee) and called my mom. Then I sat for 20 minutes and then got on another 6 hour flight. I met up with my amazing friend Cami (oddly enough she has spent time in Rupert, but I met her in Rome) and we went to the most welcoming place of American flavors: IN N OUT. Cheeseburger. Animal Style fries. CHOCOLATE MILKSHAKE.

Finally, after 30+ hours of being awake, I went to sleep and woke up 5 hours later. Then we went out and saw L.A. We ate amazing hotdogs wrapped in bacon with grilled veggies and avacado on top. .
I heard her speak Chinese. We saw a man roller blading and playing the guitar and singing and being homeless, simultaneously. We walked along Venice Beach (I know, Italy is everywhere) and checked out a cute vintage store. Then we went home and ate Chronic Taco and went to sleep to prepare for the long journeyThe next day we drove to SLC where I saw this lady:


The next day I went with Anna and Wow to temple square and saw a girl, who is now a missionary there, that I knew from Torino. She is so beautiful and friendly. She said my Italian sounded much less American, which thrilled me. I forgot to get a pic even though my camera was in my bag.

After spending the entire day trying to convince my niece to come out, I realized it wasn't meant to be so I left for Rupert. I got in around 10:30 last night and went to church this morning. Everyone says I lost weight! That is always nice to hear. So I had some wonderful moments of first encounters and have been spending a wonderful time with my family! I don't know what is next, but I am just going to take a little bit of time to get settled back. I hope with all of my heart to see Linsvor and maybe Shanna tomorrow and all of my local friends and cousins for my party tomorrow. I am so happy to be home at last!


Even the simplest sunsets in Idaho are better than the rest of the world.

The Final Post (written though not posted) from Italy

Arrividerci e Grazie

One week ago, the days were dragging. All I could think about was the steps ahead. I had classes to finish, things to buy, piazzas to say goodbye to. With all of this I still felt like I couldn't fill my days. Then Sunday night came and I don't think I have truly rested since.

All attempts to "wrap up" the feelings I have for Italy would only be futile. But I must write a small note to the country.

Quanto sei bella

Twice a day I raise my fists to the sky and cry out "Italy!"

Once for hate.

Metro strikes.

Shops closing in the middle of the day.

The stupid basket at the grocery store with the broken wheel.

The people who never let me off of the bus before they try to enter.

TERMINI GRRRR

D@$* Cobblestones that break my shoes, my luggage, and my pride as I trip step by step.

Tourists. Get out of my way.

Take one look at this schedule for the Colosseum to realize how inefficient and impossible Italians make everything:

Once for love.

Cioccolato Caldo

24-hour bakery

Fountains

Piazza Navona

Pantheon

Olive oil and sundried tomatoes

Mozzarella di Bufala

Let's walk by the colosseum today.

Piazza del Popolo

Villa Pamphili

and last but not least

GELATO

I could go on forever, but one thing I have learned is that things must come to a close. We have to live our lives so that when they do, it is just the right time. And for me, it is.

Ali asked me a number of questions about my time here. A few answers follow:

Florence vs. Rome= Rome

Favorite spot in Rome= Villa Pamphili and the Pantheon in the evening

Greatest lesson learned= All we have are our choices. They become our history. There is no existence, in heaven or earth, of an alternate reality. There is no "what if". Our choices determine our destiny.

My heart is full of gratitude and love and cholesterol from all the oil, among other things. Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

I have cried some tears. I have hugged Alison almost a thousand times. I have whispered goodbyes to passing moments and places, and to the most amazing friends. It has been an incredible journey.

Italia; Arrividerci e grazie. Ti volgio bene.

Bones-not the TV show

Although I was stoked about the finale and totally CALLED it.

Strangest thing I have ever seen . . . a room decorated with the bones of prior friars. No pics were allowed so I bought this postcard of just one of the rooms. Strangest thing I have ever seen.

The Sistine Chapel

Nicki, I assure you, it is long. One day you can see it too.

The Sistine Chapel. First, let me get this frustration out: I can't understand why people are so extremely disrespectful. It is clearly stressed that silence is to be practiced and pictures are not to be taken within the chapel. Neither of these requests were granted. (Disclaimer: the image you will see is a picture of a postcard and not the actual ceiling). If you don't want to respect what is required of this place then don't come. I can't imagine the effect that it would have if silence was observed. Although, I will be honest, I felt a little weird throughout the entire sojourn. This is the Vatican City. This is the Holy of Holies of Catholicism. This is the place that artist Michelangelo slaved for four years as he tortured himself over his theological depictions. This is where the Pope lives. I am not sure how I would feel about the places I esteem to be Holy being so invaded by those without care. Whatever. Tourism is the country's currency.

That being said, I will move on. The chapel, which is said to be the same measurements as Soloman's temple, originally had a ceiling of blue with gold stars. Michelangelo was given the incomprehensible task of changing that. Michaelangelo's work is all fresco. This means painstaking hours of applying fresh plaster and painting it before it dries. Can you imagine? The ceiling begins with the creation. First we see the separation of light and dark (my favorite part). We see the creation of Adam and the very famous gap between the finger of God and the finger of Adam as God gives and Adam receives the life spark. Then we see the Fall. It then shows the flood and Noah's drunkenness and then something that I didn't get. The part of Noah is to remind us how far man has come because of the Fall, referencing the cursing of Ham and the blessing of Noah's other sons Shem and Japheth.

This all takes place down the center panels of the ceiling. As the ceiling curves down, there are side spaces filled with the names and pictures of the ancestor's of Jesus. Then on the walls are really amazing frescoes by other artists. As one enters the chapel, one is meant to see the walls as parallels of each other. On the right side is the life and prophecy of Moses. On the left is the same of Jesus. The carefully selected scenes of their lives are meant to coincide (for example, although not in the correct order, the tempting of Jesus and the tempting of Moses, the passing of keys to Peter and the passing of authority to Joshua, Jesus giving the law by means of the sermon on the mount and Moses giving the law by carrying the tablets of the Ten Commandments etc.) It was cool.

After all of this, Michelangelo also painted the wall, upon which is one of the most controversial topics of the chapel. The Last Judgement is inexplicable by someone like me, so I will just share a few things. The point of it is to emphasize the balance between justice and mercy. The hundreds of people, both of good and evil people, are to remind us that we are susceptible to evil because of the Fall. Both the righteous and the unrighteous will receive a judgement according to their actions. This is justice. However, the bodies, especially the central and powerful depiction of Christ, shows us the mercy of God by sending his son incarnate to overcome death and save us from our fallen state by the sacrifice of his own body, thus allowing those who repent to avoid the demands of full justice. This is his mercy, deliverance by the blood of His most beloved son.

I just want to share a poem with you written by Michelangelo. Upon studying what I would see in Vatican City, I often found that he was very unwilling to take this commission. He had doubts about the Pope's motives, about his abilities as a painter, about finishing the feat, and about how to show the gospel so that those who didn't understand (because of restricted access to biblical accounts, illiteracy, lack of latin etc.) could take part in comprehension. He was a theologist and an artist that was torn by his understanding of what it meant to be either. It is speculated that there is a self-portrait of Michelangelo on the ceiling. The shocking part is that it is guessed to be the flayed skin held in the hand of St. Bartholemew, who was said to be flayed alive. Let's just say that Michelangelo was a deep dude and to be stuck on a scaffold for 4+ years painting 1200 square meters or more worth of ceiling does something to a person.

Michelangelo: To Giovanni da Pistoia
"When the Author Was Painting the Vault of the Sistine Chapel"
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@—1509

I've already grown a goiter from this torture,
hunched up here like a cat in Lombardy
(or anywhere else where the stagnant water's poison).
My stomach's squashed under my chin, my beard's
pointing at heaven, my brain's crushed in a casket,
my breast twists like a harpy's. My brush,
above me all the time, dribbles paint
so my face makes a fine floor for droppings!

My haunches are grinding into my guts,
my poor ass strains to work as a counterweight,
every gesture I make is blind and aimless.
My skin hangs loose below me, my spine's
all knotted from folding over itself.
I'm bent taut as a Syrian bow.

Because I'm stuck like this, my thoughts
are crazy, perfidious tripe:
anyone shoots badly through a crooked blowpipe.

My painting is dead.
Defend it for me, Giovanni, protect my honor.
I am not in the right place—I am not a painter.

The entire world might disagree.

The Unmissable

Ok. 105 words to wrap up the Coloseo: No, my story is not real, but some of the things like the different shows, animals, and purposes were all what really happened. The last thing I wanted to share that I found super interesting was something I read online. The Coliseum has become a religious place of gathering because of the belief of many christian martyrs dying there including St. Peter. It is also used as a symbol of attitudes about capitol punishment, abolished in Italy in 1948. It changes the night lights from white to gold when someone's death penalty sentence is lifted, if they are released, or if the penalty is abolished.

Whew. Time to move on to the smallest country I have ever visited (0.6 miles long, 0.5 miles wide): The Vatican City. The city-state has it's own sovereignty, ruled by the elected Pope, of course. Swiss guards, decorated in traditional uniforms that are uncommon for the modern world that surrounds the Holy See, protect the Pope and his home.

I left later in the morning than I had planned, but still within good time. I didn't really have to wait in line (but when I say that I mean I didn't have to join a crowd of people that wrap around the cities walls sometimes all the way to St. Peter's Basilica at the opposite end of the entrance). I didn't realize I would have to go through metal detectors and for a minute I was annoyed because of my history with them. I usually beep from all sorts of things like buttons, bobbi-pins, and under-wire bras (grr). I am usually patted down quickly, but I have heard in Italy they like to be REALLY certain . . .

Fortunately, it was fine.

However, there was still a great discomfort with the amount of people. They have to take pictures of everything! What is the point of enjoying the museum? I did, however, snag a few myself. Needless to say, I was a little stressed out by all the people and the number of times I was polite and let them control the 15 feet of space in front of an artifact to get a picture.

The thing is that there is so much to see and it is so big. Without really taking my time to go through it, it still took over 3 hours. From the Egyptian museum, to the room of animals, to the courtyard, to the hall of tapestries (really huge and really cool), to the frescoes and paintings of Raphael, to the room of statues and the miscellaneous works, to the museum of modern religious art (my second favorite part), to the toilets, and FINALLY, to the Sistine Chapel and beyond I was in awe at the amount of money and dedication it took to create one of the biggest tourist attractions in the entire world.

I am going to try to just pick highlights to share. It is too overwhelming to even try to be creative with the way I tell the journey or every profound thought I had while in it.

The tapestries amazed me. Being a cloth person, I have always been drawn to them when I read books, but I have never seen one. The scenes depicted, like a lot of Catholic art, were a little dark and dreary. I never imagined them to be so big. They went from the floor to the ceiling, which in this particular hallway couldn't have been less than 18 feet.

This one is the bringing of gifts from the Magi.



Just a few rooms before the chapel, there is this fresco by Raphael called The Fire in the Borgo. My audio guide didn't tell me what eavesdropping on the tour guide next to me did. This neighborhood set on fire near St. Peter's Basilica. The people ran to the window and cried for the Pope. He saw the fire and immediately blessed the air and the fire went out. In the left bottom corner we see a man carrying an old man, a woman, and a young child. This is supposed to be "Aeneas carrying his father Anchises from the fires of Troy; it is, therefore, an allusion to the traditional idea that Rome was the new Troy." I love things like that.


I will leave it there for today. I know how some of you have commented on my posts being too lengthy (IT WAS TREVOR IN CASE ANYONE WAS WONDERING- but I agree with him). I will post the Sistine Chapel as a separate piece.

Love you all!

M.Jean

You Want Me to Get LOUD, I WILL GET LOUD. Don't you mess with me, I AM A MOTHER.

I know I promised more Colloseo but a holiday reminder took priority!

Can anyone name that quote listed as the title? I know one woman who can!

Mother.

So often I think of the many things she gave me.

Not only the wonderful food of home, sweet, home.
Not only the hours of reading Harry Potter, which gave me the animo to love my childhood with an undying zeal.
Not only the sewing lessons that have given my life purpose and joy.
Not only my favorite book, The Count of Monte Cristo.
Not only hours of driving to and from basketball practice and games.
Not only money to develop talents and hobbies.

I could go on forever about what she gave.

But my thoughts tonight are not only amazed at all she gives.

I think of the woman she is.

She is a strength to me.
She believes, she believes, she believes in me.
She is a woman to laugh with.
She is a woman to cry to.
She is compassionate.
She is empathic.
She is spiritual.
She is a mother.

SHE IS MY MOTHER! I love you so much Mommy. You have helped me so much in the most difficult times of my life. I have never questioned the path you have made for me and I am so grateful to be your daughter. I can't express at all what you have meant to me especially during the Italy project. Thanks forever.

I also want to say a quick word to the other amazing mothers I know. Happy Mother's Day Cindy, Susan, Reesa, Caroline, and Barbara! You have raised daughters that have shown me more charity, more laughter, more fun, more love, and more faith than anyone I have ever known. I love your daughters so much and I love the women who taught them.

Happy Mother's day to Jessica, Beckah, and Anna! I love you and think you are great mothers.

Happy Mother's day Ariel, Dove, Grandma M and Grandma B!



Love all of you!

Megan Jean

Culture Week=Free Stuff

Unfortunately, I found out about Culture Week as the week was coming to a close. I did, however, get to go see the number one thing on my list FOR FREE! Drumrollllllllllllll

COLOSSUS!

Oh wait. I am confused with a potential baby name of the Dunns (the first Dunns not the second Dunns--which, by the way, do you guys still have my beautiful drawing because maybe we should show that on here to scare people. Tell you what, we will save it for Halloween along with Lindsey's weird hamster pic. Is it too late to apologize?) Let me try again . . .

THE COLOSSEUM!



This is the moment when the guest storyteller steps in. Please darken the lights. Kick back your chairs. And let your minds wander to Ancient Rome. (Disclaimer: What you are about to read contains messages that are irrelevant to actual history and fictitious portrayals of how little the storyteller actually knows about ancient Rome. Please, no flash photography. Any use of this material without written consent is prohibited.)

Once upon a time there was a foreigner in Rome named Guinevere (not to be confused with Arthur's adulterous wife).

As a beauty of fair hair and skin, her charms were much sought after and valued. She walked not one meter without hearing "Ciao Bella" (Bella=beautiful, not to be confused with the Twilight twit). Ergo, it went without surprise that she was invited to the colossal venue for a show.

Unfortunately for her hosts, she was both a human-rights and an animal-rights activist. Neither the inviters nor the invited knew of the extreme disapproval that was about to unfold.

She looked below and saw a huge wooden floor.

Underneath was a world of tunnels and trapdoors for both man and beast.


The "show" began with a depiction of a recent Roman conquest upon the high seas. As weapons flew through the air, she saw actual blood fall to the ground. Her eyes grew in horror when she saw men, women, and children cheering, or worse: yawning. She was a polite guest, but she could not watch, instead she let her eyes glaze over.

Then came the hunts. Animals, starved and beaten, were let loose in strategic areas. Man hunted beast. Beast hunted man. Guinivere held herself together until one animal entered, and she could take no more. Her love, the elephant, girded in materials embedded with spikes and other weapons entered the scene.

She flew to the top of the Colosseum and looked out at the crowd of 50,000 below.

(in truth, this was just a hair check photo, turned out a little epic so I kept it.)

"OH THE HUMANITY! YE FIENDS OF THE BLOODTHIRSTY AND LOWEST IN-HABITATIONS OF THE EARTH. HAVE YE NO SHAME? THE ELEPHANT SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO BE BIG AND EAT WITHOUT FEAR OF BEING BROUGHT INTO THIS AREA POLLUTED WITH THE EXISTENCE OF THEY WHO HAVE NO CONSCIENCE! AND IF THE ELEPHANT HAS THAT RIGHT, SO DO ALL ANIMALS. AND IF THAT IS SO, THEN SO DO ALL MEN."

Her activism went unheard and they moved from hunts to gladiator fights. Men, prisoners or souls unfavored by the fates, fought for the upper hand in combat as to avoid the thumbs up or thumbs down of the emperor when defeated. Guinivere shook as she watched, still maintaining her lofty perch.

Guinivere was actually from Atlantis, so if you saw that cartoon with the voice of Michael J. Fox you KNOW that those people have special powers. She called upon the juju within her, and drew lightening from the sky. A fire started and shrieks began. The damage to the animals and men below invoked no horror, but damage to the beloved arena sent chills down the stretch of back where a spine should have been inside senators, citizens, and entrepreneurs who benefited from the games. She could not reach them with words, but all made an exit that day and for a time things were put to rest.

As for our heroine, she released the animals and rode away from Rome on the back of the elephant. No Roman ever saw her again, but admirers and intellectuals built a statue of her. But soon even they couldn't continue the story to convince others of her words. Story turned to legend. Legend turned to myth. Myth turned to dim memory that left only a crumbling, unnamed statue.


A small opinion-based follow up will continue tomorrow. Do not fear this lengthy post. Tomorrow's will be nothing but simple. The two previous statements may also be fictitious. Decide for yourself which of the above was fact and which was fiction.