Athenas steeks

OK. I've cut the cardigan front steek. Here is the sweater laid out flat with the armhole steek crocheted. If you click on it and get the large version you can see it.

a close up of the sleeve hole steek crocheted. I've usually used a salt and pepper pattern in the steeks, because it laid flat. However, I've decided that it is a lot easier to see to crochet if I were to use a striped pattern.

Altho the directions I downloaded left only one knit stitch in between the single crochets, I found that too likely to fray when I sampled it on a small spot. I crocheted the steeks into the 2nd st from center instead.

You can see on the wrong side the small 'frays' but I like that better than no frays since I was leary of the sc being pulled OFF of the sample. I guess I've had too many little kids pulling on things!

Here's the facing folded in. The frayed ends are invisible under the facing. Once I get the band on, I'll see if I actually need to tack down the facing.

So tonite I'll sew the shoulders together and pick up the sleeve sts. Onward and upward.

Kings Blossoms

 

The trees are beginning to bloom and the leaves are poppeing out. What were tiny leaf buds last week are now horse chestnut leaves. But the flowering trees are lovely as seen here in my daily walk to the office.

This is always an interesting sight. Note the minarets on the other side of the street, just to the right of Kings Chapel. The Laird at one point built these little towers on either side of his entrance gate. To display his wealth and interest in Orientale culture. They have just refurbished them.

Of course, the gate and the great house all belong to the University now. If I can get a picture from the other side of the gates to the Crown, they'll probably look much more imposing. They are at about 2-3 stories high. One likes to wait for a sunny spot for pictures but sometimes that is a long wait – or I miss it by mere minutes, dashing down the cold granite stairs, flight after flight, only to emerge into cold drizzle. But, we carry on.

while you were waiting

For Spring, I took this picture. I didn't know it was possible to walk too fast here:

I also took some lovely Spring pictures. Here are some Camellias. I know. I thought they were tropical plants too, but as you can see, they are thriving in Scotland. At least along the coast.

 

This is Wrights and Coopers Alley (yes, Alley) which is on campus. I think they are apartments or "flats".

Meanwhile, since computer screens don't prevent eyestrain, here is the rest of what I'm doing:

 

You know I don't need my eyes to knit.

Note the progress:

The smushed stars in the middle are on a "seam" for waistline definition, as per requested. This sweater is actually going well and I haven't had to rip out more than one row at a time. Reuben will be jealous as he thought I had knit about 3 sweaters by the time I'd finished the one he wears. Of course, maybe it is because this is the 4th sweater of this pattern?

charism of invisibility

OK. I am home again. That is, back at the Uni. Not Home-home where the heart is, the hubby and the gkids. And kids. My retreat flat. So to speak.

It is Friday and my body — for the FIRST time since I got back on Sunday — did NOT groan long and loudly at me for forcing it to get out of bed and moving. So, I feel better. I've done some reading and writing, too, which is My Work that is supposed to be consuming me right now. But I'll recap the last day now.

The Journey Home:

We got up in Rome and had a nice breakfast with American coffee. Those half-filled espresso cups don't quite do it for me, I'm afraid. And then we walked over to St. Mary Maggiore's church which is one of the major sites of Rome. Fabulous huge building with awesome paintings, etc. It was Palm Sunday and the people were setting up carts and stands in the plaza to sell palms. There were some ancient women with willow branches and some young men with stalls of actual palms and palms woven into crosses or other symbols. I couldn't figure out how to carry one home so I didn't get any. We went inside and Fam wanted to stay abit and meditate. I decided I'd walk back to the train and wait for her there as I knew I wouldn't be able to make the mad dash back that she no doubt intended. Bad idea. VERY BAD idea. I stood in front of the train, in front of the pillar, that she HAD to go past in order to get on the train. I never saw the red hat. She never saw the purple coat. Go figure. I've decided that there is a charism of invisibility that descends on both of us from time to time. She was on the train, standing on the steps watching for me. I never saw her so I waited for the next train.

It was close. It was the last train to get to the airport in the nick of time. I dashed (more or less) through the airport to the metal detector lines. I got behind an elderly asian couple. OK. They were moving fine. I would make it. And, then, the gentleman put a stainless steel thermos of chicken soup through the detector. Oh, no. He had to go back. But, it didn't take too long and I was through. I ran and ran and ran (as I understand the word and could manage to convince swollen feet – I would've lost a marathon with wheelchairs) through the halls to find the proper gate. I found the gate. No red hat. I had time for the ladies room just around the corner. They were standing in line to board. No red hat. AHHA! The red hat comes up behind me and welcomes me. She thought I had gotten lost on the same train she was on. Nope, not quite. But, we both got on the same plane and everything is cool. Only Paris airport to negotiate without losing anyone. 🙂

And we did manage to make the Paris flight and Not lose each other. It was close. The security ladies didn't seem to think we had any right to darken French airport soil but since nothing beeped on the security door, they had no options but to let us pass.

So, I'm back and in the office. Reading and writing. Our visits to important archivists was very profitable and all my interlibrary loans came in all at once. I need a title for a presentation in May. Fam says I'm not on Spring Break after all. "Break? What Break?"

Back track to cemetery

The cemetery in Basel was gorgeous. Lovely trees and bushes and flowers. Every grave was unique; every monument was different. These are the ones not related to any people with whom I am concerned.

I like this bas relief crucifix. It isn't quite like the sculptures in the door that look like they've only have materialized on the starship. Or got stuck in solid matter on the planet.

When we were looking for Barth's grave, this is the first area we saw that seemed to be close to the X on the card. We were very concerned. What would our colleagues do if we came back with a picture of an ash box instead of a lovely memorial? How crushed would they be?

The graves opposite AvS's grave. Another crucifix. Free-standing this time.

This Madonna is my favorite, though. And it looked like beds of pink heather in front. I'm not sure that it would be improved by being headless, though. Maybe we just need to put two or three or five memorials in the family ruin?

Day 5 – Rome again, Rome again…

We decided that getting up early and eating breakfast at the train station would be the best idea. I decided I needed to drink some Swiss hot chocolate while I was there and I did. However, it was very like American which means an over-abundance of milk (as far as I was concerned) along with the chocolate. Well, they did invent milk chocolate. Fam bought a chocolate easter bunny. That was dairy, too, and too sweet as well. I prefer the really really dark Belgian chocolate which I can easily get in Aberdeen. And I do.

We got on the bus to the airport, hoping that we would be going to the right airport. I was pretty sure there was only one. But… with our luck…  The Mulhouse Airport is interesting as it opens out onto 3 different countries. Much like the pools in C.S. Lewis' The Magicians Nephew. You have to watch which door you are going out – does it say Suisse, Deutsch, or Francais? Otherwise, you end up in the wrong country. We were fortunate – the Suisse was the first door we came to when we arrived. And – also Fortunate – there was only one choice for which door we went through to get into the airport. Of course, the plane was delayed. We were on Easy Jet which is like taking a flying bus. When it gets in, the first batch deplanes and the next batch enters. No fuss, no cleaning, just on and off. And, then it leaves. Fortunately, it doesn't sit and wait until the plane is FULL before it leaves like the busses in Italy do. Doesn't matter what time the schedule states. If the bus is full, it leaves. If it isn't full, it waits until it is. Obviously, it is the Swiss who invented timeclocks.

Since we had a half a Saturday in Rome, and my feet were nearly worn off, I opted to go back to the hostel and wander around locally until Fam came back from Vatican City for dinner. I was to scout out a place to eat, too. I revisited my favorite local places(pictures coming, be patient) and found a couple options of places to eat. We picked the closest cafeteria/gelatti place and it turned out not to be the best, but it was edible and entertaining. We should have gone to the family pizzeria. But there is this cheese thing: I don't eat it. Ever. for any reason. Never. Nada. Nein. Nu. Oh, well.

Now I'll show you pictures of Diocletians Baths. They were really cool as well as the Basilica built right next to or on top of it. http://web.tiscali.it/romaonlineguide/Pages/eng/rantica/sAHy4.htm

 

   

See, these are way cool. I love archaeology and cemeteries. I know that I began with a sociology major at Wheaton, but if I'd stayed there any longer, the advisors should have redirected me to archaeology or anthropology. That was much more interesting.

Ok. The statues. I love the headless armless statues. Heads up, kids! I'll show you more cemetery pictures, too. Next post will have more Basel cemetery pictures. 

I love this guy –>

Remember this, my dear progeny! When I'm dead and gone, you can erect a headless statue as a memorial on my grave site. Or, on the farm as a memorial. Next to the foundation that has no building on it. Very like an ancient ruin, isn't it?

Here is a great archway:

 

OK. Now for the Basilica of Saint Mary of the Angels and Martyrs which is built next to, within and on the Baths. Very appropriately. See the website above more information on it.

 

It is an amazing mix of ancient, medieval and modern.

 

One of the doors. The Annunciation. Gabriel's announcement to Mary. It is quite odd seeing people and angels as if they were trapped in the doors. Or maybe I've watched too much sci-fi?

I'm guessing this is the crucifixion.

 

 

The head of John the Baptist. –>

 

In the back of the Basilica is another courtyard or chapel or church. Check the website above for better information.

 The Nativity

 

 

 

Note the torch and ancient stone plaques on the wall.

   

And last but not least the ORGAN. Just for you Dad! And no I didn't hear it. It is HUGE. You will have to click on it and magnify in order to see the console and bench in the middle waaaaay down at the bottom.

Day 4 – Swiss Reformers

OK. I promised a quick look at the Cathedral and the graves of Karl Barth and Erasmus! Let's do Barth first.

It is a beautiful cemetery. We asked where Karl Barth was, the office looked it up on a computer and wrote it down on a little card with a map. It was way far away on the other side of the cemetery. At least it was quite beautiful, many flowers and flowering shrubs, trees, etc. Barth's marker was on this wall.

The marker is on the wall and the grave just below it. I don't know how exactly the Swiss bury their people, but there is only this one strip and about 6 family members buried there. A son, a brother, etc. It must be a really deep grave. Unless they rebury like with ossuaries and such. All the graves are beautifully tended with all these flowers and vines.

 

OK now. For all you who have been hoping that rumors are rumors and can someday be put to rest. I wouldn't put any money down on it. Behold, Charlotte is buried in the same grave with Karl and his wife Nelly.

Next, we see Munster Cathedral again. An amazing place. Beautiful. Awesome. There is an ancient crypt underneath the altar with frescoes and another altar. It looks as though it could be or has been used as a chapel but it is closed during the winter to protect the frescoes, I guess. We couldn't get in. There is an outline in paving stones outside of a ninth century church. I'm sorry I'm not taller so I couldn't get a good picture but I did stand on a bench. The lighter colored stones make three loops that outlined where the walls had originally been.

Inside the church is the tomb of Erasmus. Of course, it is now a Protestant church. But he was loved by many of the Swiss reformers (not Luther, a German, of course) and is buried here. I suppose that in spite of the fact that he managed to remain within the graces of the Roman church during his lifetime, it may be just desserts for his body to be entombed in a Protestant cathedral!!

 

http://switzerland.isyours.com/e/guide/basel/munster.html 

Another Reformer has a statue outside the cathedral. Oecalampad. I know I've seen the name before. He's not quite as famous as Luther, Zwingli, Calvin nor indeed as Barth. But, obviously, someone thought he was important enough to deserve a memorial.

Day 4 – Archives and Gravestones

OK. So we didn't have hot fudge for breakfast but at the end of the day. But it was a long day. I thought I'd tempt you with the ending first!

We woke up to rain. I had worn my raincoat. PTL/JMJ/VJ. But by the time we had drunk our mugs of coffee and eaten our croissants, it was merely Aberdonian rain. Hardly enough to consider. We found the tram we wanted and took it as far as we thought we should. Actually, Fam asked where we were supposed to get off and I said, after we cross the Rhine River and she said but we just crossed it and I said, well, then we'd better get off!! So, we did! Then we had to figure out from the map where we were and how we were supposed to get to Allemanganne something or other. We finally saw a taxi driver and tried to ask him to take us, but he showed us on the map how to get there so we just walked away. I don't think he spoke English. We found a church that was on the map and a street circle so we just had to find the spoke that went the right way. After a couple of false advisors – it is amazing how many people who walk around neighborhoods have no idea where they live – Fam found an old man [her father told her to ALWAYS ask directions from Old Men! because they know where everything is and will give you proper directions] who told her which spoke to take. (I had sat down and waited.) We took the spoke, across street construction and barriers, and eventually saw a sign for the children's hospital. I knew that from the map. Five minutes later, we had found the house!

The von Balthasar-von Speyr archives are now held in a specially built home with glassed rooms, air locks, elevators and no humidity. No one is allowed to take a glass of water into the study rooms and offices outside the libraries. Von B's personal library is housed there. We think there must be some more books somewhere. Not that there weren't thousands of books, but that Fam was looking for specific things and didn't find ANY of them rather than only one or two which would have been devastating. [Really. for a scholar that has deep depressing meaning] We touched von B's and von Speyr's own books. (No, we didn't kiss them – that would have contributed too much humidity, I'm sure.) Another stack had all the books that were being published by the Johannes Verlag press. We asked about buying a couple books that are crucial to my project but Frau Capol wasn't allowed to do that. Instead, just before we left she gave us the books we needed as gifts.

Unfortunately, as you can see, we have no pictures of the home or archives. Or of Frau Capol. Or of the furniture that belonged to Adrienne, the chairs we sat on, the table we used. <sigh> Actually, if you look in the book My Early Years, you will see the chairs we sat on that had been in her front room with a view over the Rhine. And the table she worked on which we touched and put our papers on. There was a painting on the wall that had been Adrienne's of St. Ursilla and her companions. I don't know anything about that story so I guess I'll have to look that one up too now. We ate lunch on von B's table. <sigh>

 Just for you, I have put here a view of the Rhine that she would have seen every day. Really. The house she lived in for over twenty years had this view. This was taken from the Munster Cathedral which was half a block from her home.

Frau had just celebrated 90 years, looked and acted about 70, and was in full use of her faculties and very much better than 6 months ago when she'd had surgery for something. She talked about typing the dictations of Adrienne to Hans Urs and how she was not allowed to speak of these things to anyone. She knew there was something very special and unique going on with Adrienne but couldn't ask questions or talk to anyone about it. Meanwhile, she described Adrienne as a very matter of fact woman, feet on the ground, commen sense and extremely humble. She always had knitting in her hands, knitting for the poor. Every year they would empty shelves and cupboards of her knitting to give to the poor. So, she was not weird or flaky in any way. In fact, she was quite fun and cheerful and would often have them laughing when they were on retreat or holidays.

The house in the front of the archive property is the Community of St. John. There are several women there now. All busy. Everyone has too much to do. Frau Capol said over and over again about how much work she had yet to do with sorting the books, putting correspondence in order, cataloguing everything. They did have a librarian once who came in and helped for a time, but it needs a librarian – someone already trained. The archives were very well organized and labeled but having scores of boxes even properly labeled boxes would be quite a chore to prepare for use.

One of the sisters drove us out to the Cemetery.Several famous people are buried there. you need only go into the office and ask where the grave is and they give you a little card with a map and make an x on your spot.

Since I am learning German from a Barth scholar, I went to his grave as well. His pictures follow in the Reformers post.

 Here is Adrienne's grave: She is buried with her second husband Werner Kaegi, a well-known scholar in his own right. The form of the sculpture is Trinitarian, the heart of her work and contemplation. I think if you click on the picture you'll be able to see the inscription.

Next we went to see her home in Munsterplatz, the center of ancient Basel.

It is
emptied of all her things now and has become a music archive for the composer S. and I will insert his name as soon as I remember it!

I stood in front of her door and took this picture of the Munster Cathedral:

The view of the River from her home is above.

Here is another view of the Munsterplatz:

It looks amazingly like a real Swiss town doesn't it! 🙂

After touring the Cathedral – that'll be in the Reformer's post – the sister took us down to see the medical clinic that Herr Doktor von Speyr had used. It was just down the hill from her home, down cobbled streets, past the first building of the first university in Switzerland, established in 1460. It is younger than Aberdeen!

Her clinic was on the third floor here. The sister did not know if she had several rooms or the whole floor. Obviously, someone else uses those rooms now, since Herr Doktor had to give up her clinic in the early fifties. The Community has the actual plaque for her practice.

So, after walking my feet off – and Fam suggesting that I could endure the pain well enough when it was important enough to me, such as walking down to the house and the clinic, etc – we went to find somewhere posh to eat supper. Not finding anything on the way, … no, let me rephrase that: Not finding anything that was serving dinner yet since it was ONLY 5 pm! we went back to the hostel and rested. Then walked back to the closest posh place and had a nice meal for the price of an Applebee's meal. Thus, the hot fudge sundae. scrummy.

Day 3 – to Basel

We had some time in the a.m. and I really wanted to see Bernini's Ecstasy of St. Theresa. The Church was only a few blocks away so we walked up there and found it. And lots of other things. Actually, I don't really remember which day I first saw it. I went 3 times to visit St. Theresa.

Well, there is a window above the sculpture and the light changes and hits the sculpture differently. One never knows. She might levitate.

And you can never see everything all at once. The paintings on the ceilings have clouds and angels that look like they are inside the church instead of just painted in pictures. They cover the edges and blend heaven and earth, so to speak.

So after the morning visiting churches we walked back to the station to pick up the train to the airport. Uh oh. JUST before we got there I remembered – it wasn't the same airport – it wasn't the same train that we needed. In FACT!! we needed a bus. Fortunately, you buy the ticket at the same station – well, in a booth outside the station — and then we had to find the location of the busses. Not enough time to visit the Ladies. We eventually found the busses. Handed our ticket to the scanning lady, threw my bag in the baggage under the bus, and climbed in for a 40min. ride. Another last minute save. PTL. JMJ.

It was warmer in Basel than it had been in Rome. I don't know how this happens. But the food was good and the coffee was good and it was quiet and peaceful and clean and neat as a pin. We wandered a bit in trying to find the hostel. Turns out this hostel is quite the original one. Built in a converted warehouse along with little shops and apartments. You know the kind – probably very expensive little apartments for 'orginial' sorts of people. Along with graffiti outside and a kindergarten of some sorts inside. There was an outdoor cafe with 4 middlish men smoking at picnic tables when we got there. I asked if they spoke English. My being rude and American came to the fore when we couldn't decide which little storefront held the reservation clerk. They started laughing and said that everyone spoke English except one of them. And they all looked at the one speaking with an Irish accent.

  

As you can see, it is rather like IKEA industriale motif. It was not bad. The hippies out front made Fam feel at home. Along with the retro hippie music. It was quite secure, everything locked up, keys for everyone. No funny smoke. Just tobacchi.

We headed off to wander around and find out how to get to Frau Capol's house the next day. I insisted on taking a bus and not walking. My feet just don't take that kind of activity. We found a reasonable way to get to a tram – only electric trams, no busses. We went back through the train station and onto the middle of town. We wandered past the McDonalds which I would've settled for but I think is entirely against Fam's principles. Since I rely on her good thoughts towards me, I prefered whenever possible to acquiesce to her desires. We walked past museums and interesting places until we found a cafe in an old church. I never knew about that, but apparently many old churches in England have little cafes in them to support the tourist trade and help upkeep the building. The church is still used as a church. The only churches in the States that I knew did that were the Willow Creek types. I had tomato soup that tasted like none other I had ever had!! Very flavorful and quite hot with chilies. Of course, that was because I refused the mozzarella that they threw in it when normal people ordered it.

We survived another day, making it to where we intended with a minimum of disasters. There were no snorers in the Basel dorm either so that was good.

Day 2 – CB part iii

From the very authentic Italian cafe eating melon and prosciutto and drinking espresso, we hopped back on the train, to the bus, to via Nomentana and Casa Balthasar. We had an enormously encouraging meeting with the director of the Casa, Fr. Servais. He encouraged the development of our projects and proved that our intuitions on the direction of my thesis were correct. He gave us titles of books. He showed us 2 dissertations that his own students had written, that I can go back and study there when the time comes. It appears that he is glad that someone from the Balthasarian camp will be rebutting the attacks from the woman with the unfortunate name. He immediately emailed Fam and thanked her for our visit as well as telling us that he has included us in his prayers. I shall certainly need them.

We returned to the hostel, Fam to her rare novel, me to meet the friend of a friend. I set off for the Maria Maggiore church. It is a huge church with amazing chapels and marble floors and stained glass windows and beautiful paintings and murals. The ceiling is flat with squares in it rather than the curved ceilings. I'm too ignorant of the styles of architecture to describe it.

 Esme met me there and took me out to a real family restaurant. We hit it off very well and plan to keep in touch. She and 5 other women are founding a secular order to assist the priestly order she works with. So, it will be interesting to me to follow that development, especially as Adrienne did that back in the 1940's. So, we went to the restaurant that a friend of hers recommended. They gave this American a typical Italian meal with antipasto, hot dishes, first plate, second plate, desserts… Since I unfortunately don't eat cheese, we stuck with the fish dishes. So, there were four cold dishes of fishes and veggies – all delicious – in vinegary dressing. Then several hot dishes of mussels and little baby squid – or squid people as Esme called them. It took a bit of time and courage but I managed to eat several – they were really delicious. We only had one main meal plate instead of the usual 2 but that also was fabulous, some pasta thing with many different shellfish in it. And for dessert! tiramisu! It was milder and lighter than what I've had in the states. Esme had fritolles? which were little creme puffs smothered in chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I ate hers too. Espresso was a must as well. I wanted a picture so she asked the waiter if he would take a  picture of us with all the food on the tables. For just the two of us, the plates covered 3 tables! Here's the resulting picture:

 

It made me feel like my boys back home had somehow changed bodies with these Italian boys. Let's try this again:

We ate for 3 hours. It was fabulous. I slept well that night.