Vatican City

We spent our last day in Rome exploring the Vatican Museums, the Sistine Chapel, and St. Peter's Basilica.

(A Vatican guard)

The Vatican Museums were overwhelming. There was just too much to see. Mazes of rooms housed sculptures, paintings, tapestries, maps, ancient artifacts, books, and much more. The audio tour was a life saver, but we could have easily spend days there. Eventually, I had to just put my camera down and attempt to absorb it all with my own eyes.

(Rachel, this flutist is for you.)

(looking down)

(looking up)

(How would you like a bathtub like this?)

I can honestly say that the Sistine Chapel was my favorite place of our entire trip. As we entered the room, it was literally packed with people. Carefully we made our way to one of the side walls and waited a few minutes until a bench was available. It was a welcome relief to finally sit down. We entered the corresponding number on our audio player, gazed up at the ceiling, and were filled with awe.

There it was--right above me.  That iconic image of the creation of Adam.

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I was so impressed with the shared truth between the Catholic church (as viewed through Michelangelo's frescoes) and my own church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or Mormons). It was all there--the Creation of the World, the Creation of Adam and Eve, the Fall, and the need for a Savior and Redeemer in Jesus Christ.

For a few moments I was in my own world of wonder and inspiration. I knew and felt (once again) that God loved and knew me and that His plan was the way, the truth, and the light.

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Michelangelo's painting of The Last Judgement on the wall above the main doors is so complex, yet so symbolic of what I believe.

I have much to learn from these masterpieces. It was a true blessing to see them for myself.

As our day in Rome came to a close we lined up for a tour of Saint Peter's Basilica and Square.

(The remains (with mask) of pope Blessed Innocent XI)

(A baptismal font)

It was all quite magnificent. 

Dear Rachel (#1)

Dear Rachel,

You've recently asked for more pictures and for more news from home. This letter to you (and David, of course) is my solution. Perhaps this correspondence will arrive once a week, maybe less frequently, but hopefully it will help you feel like you are still connected to home even though you are 1500 miles away.

On Sunday we all heard the exciting news that the Provo Tabernacle would be rebuilt as the second LDS temple in Provo. When the announcement was made Dad was upstairs on the phone dealing with the insurance agency about his wrecked car. He thought for sure we had switched channels and were watching a football game instead of General Conference when he heard our shouts of joy.

I drove by the Tabernacle on Tuesday and took a picture for you. Here's how it looks this first week of October, 2011.

While there I ran into the "main man" who has been at the site since that fateful day last December when the Tabernacle burned. He told me the building has been shored up for the Winter and that he will be meeting with the temple architect this week. It looks like construction will start some time in the Spring. I will document the progress for you!

Someone posted this sign on the wall in front of the Tabernacle along with white handkerchiefs and balloons. The balloons had popped, but the sign and handkerchiefs remain along with a second message right next to the first.

We told you about Dad's accident on the way to the BYU game last Friday. It wasn't his fault, but it is, oh, so very sad. Even though his car is only a Honda Civic SI and not the typical midlife crisis car (like a Ferrari or Porsche) your dad adored it none-the-less. I learned to take deep cleansing breaths whenever he took corners or whizzed around a driver that was a bit too slow. Even when repaired, the car will never be the same.

Abby has taken a liking to wearing her hair in two braids whenever she plays soccer. No one else on her team does this, and I am certain that is why she enjoys doing so.

It seems to be a tradition now. Whenever General Conference rolls around (twice a year) Abby begs me to braid her hair in little braids all over her head. Day and night they "set" with the result being a head full of perfectly crimped and curled tresses come Monday morning. I think Travis was a bit bored because he took a turn combining them even further when my assignment was completed.

It obviously took some intense concentration.

It's Homecoming week on campus. The flags are flying and the Y on the mountain is lit up every night. It's definitely Autumn in Utah.

We miss you and love you lots!

Mom

When in Rome . . .

take lots of pictures--

pictures of ancient buildings you'd never thought you'd see in your lifetime like the Colosseum

(Factoid: only 2% of the gladiators survived)

or the Pantheon.

Notice the fountains--

especially the Trevi Fountain.

Try to ignore the throngs of people doing exactly the same thing.

When in Rome . . . fit in as many sites as possible. The centuries and centuries of history leaves one in awe.

When in Rome . . . eat an authentic panini and a pistachio gelato, exhaust yourself thoroughly, and still end it all with a smile.

Glass, Glass, Everywhere

The island of Murano (in Venice, Italy) is renown for its glass making.

I loved exploring all the shops and discovering unique artisans down random walkways.

I even took advantage of a photo op with a "Comet Glass Star" made by Master glass maker Simone Cenedese for Christmas 2007 in Murano.

Speaking of Christmas, we HAD to do the touristy thing and purchase an ornament depicting our travels this year. How could we not resist Santa on a gondola?

We actually toyed with the idea of purchasing a red glass chandelier for our living room. 

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But, alas, I opted instead for a little glass-topped box to add to my collection. I was especially happy with the fact that we met and talked with the artisan herself.

Still . . . the chandelier would have been fun.

Marzipan and the Watergate

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The Watergate to me meant Napoleons, cookies, and marzipan-shaped animals long before it was ever associated with Richard Nixon. My parents watched the Watergate Complex rise along the banks of the Potomac River in the 1960s and happily discovered the upscale Watergate Pastry on its lower level. Every family jaunt into D.C. would end with us begging my parents to visit the speciality shop. Occasionally they would relent. If we were lucky, one or more of us children would be dropped off with a parent, skip down the stairs past the saucer-shaped fountains into the cream and sugar-laden patisserie. The other parent would patiently drive around and around the block until we appeared at the curb white box in hand.

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The flavors and scents of the delicacies within this parcel will forever evoke happy childhood memories.

One of the most significant ways my dad showed his love to us was through gift-giving. Occasionally (usually around the Holidays) he would arrive home from work bearing sweet little marzipan animals for us children. It was an utter delight. Not only were they adorable, but to me they were delicious.

My dad never forgot how much I loved marzipan. Even as an adult living in Northern California with my own little family, he hand-carried a special white box all the way across the country containing the precious figurines from the one and only Watergate Pastry.

Marzipan sculptures will forever remind me of my father.

This explains why, on our recent trip to Venice, I literally gasped when I passed this store window. Incredible! I had never seen marzipan creations of this size or type before.

The fish and the artichokes really caught me off guard.

It was fabulous!