Where two or three are gathered...
This morning I went outside when the crows were shouting in the trees outside the window. I am still being a "Francis", so birds calling are a sign to run out and speak to them. There's a little archway of vines outside which has a cavernous appearance that I hung a little keepsake keychain of Mary in, because the arch itself is made of grapevines that grow wild here. Then I could not say my rosary. The birds were much too loud. They seemed to be sounding an alarm, I decided, listening hard to their strange foreign speech. So, inside I came and sat down on the floor to watch a show about Michelangelo on his especially rare genius. Florence, I know, was a birthplace of fame due to the shared exceptional opportunity to produce greatness and the historian, Vasari, who also took part in that momentous occasion. Machiavelli also came from that Florentine moment. It occurred to me then many things which interest me. One, that when once everyone becomes excited about a particu...
