80 degrees and sunny in Dublin...this never happens

 

Today was an awesome day. 

I slept in, and when I did get up around 9, I made a wonderful omelet for breakfast.  The sun was already high in the sky, and it would be a picture perfect day...those don't happen often here.  I decided I'd walk around the beach, just a short distance form my apartment, and explore the surrounding bits.  In the afternoon I had planned to bake up batches of cookies and raspberry almond bars to take to work on Monday.  I now had baking pans, a little hand held electric mixer, and all the raw ingredients I need to start baking.  I couldn't wait!
I layered on the sunscreen, took out the sunglasses, packed up my purse and was ready to go.  On my way out of the apartment, I noticed the ruckus coming from next door, again, as a hoard of guys had moved in for the weekend.  I guessed they were there for a "stag party" ... bachelor party back in the states.  I thought a stag party sounded like much more fun.  They had music playing and were heartily singing along.  As I walked out the driveway of the apartment, I saw them up on the balcony having a good old time.  I called up, asking if the party ever stopped.  They said no, and that I should come up and join them.  "Maybe later," I yelled up, and off I went.

I walked down to the main street of Sandymount, musing at the little shops I passed.  The little micro economic bundles intrigued me.  You had your grocery store and your beauty parlor, a book store, little organic markets, some trinkety stores, which I loved to stop into, and then you had a handful of cafes and restaurants.  This little town also had a bakery.  It was called "The Butler's Pantry" and of course I had to stop in for a look.  The smell was heavenly as I went through the door.  They had coffee cakes, raspberry bars, a selection of muffins and cookies.  Then they had a variety of loaf cakes- lemon-poppy seed, carrot, banana.  I bought a chocolate chip cookie to see what a homemade cookie in Dublin would taste like.  I purchased my selection, chit-chatted a bit with the owner about baking in general, and was on my way. 

Sandymount is a very small little town, so not long after main street I had hit the beach.  I walked down and people watched.  EVERYONE was outdoors by now, soaking up the sun and loving the "heat".  80 degrees here is considered "a scorcher".  I took a piece of the chocolate chip cookie and nibbled it slowly to get the initial taste, then took a good sized bite to sum up the texture.  The cookie had great flavor, but wasn't chewy.  It was baked in a way that it was hard throughout, and with that, I realised that since being in Europe, I hadn't had a good, soft, chewy cookie.  Possible market need there....just sayin!

People walk on water in Sandymount.  It's actually in a bay, so there aren't waves on the beach at all.  In fact, the bay is incredibly shallow for a good distance out into the water, so you can walk in water that's not more than a foot deep WAY out against the horizon.  It does, in fact, give you the illusion that people are walking on water.  I wondered to myself if such a trick had been pulled on the Catholic Apostles so long ago.  But really, if the trick was that easy, everyone would have done it (back then) and it wouldn't have been a trick at all.  So I decided I hadn't solved the mystery of Jesus walking on water.  My mom would scold that that's because there is no mystery, he walked on water.  I love you mom. :) 

After soaking in a good amount of sunshine and people watching for a bit, I walked back home.  I was so excited to bake!  I pulled out the butter, sugar, flour...and then a big pot to mix it all in as I didn't have a mixing bowl.  No matter, I'd make it work.  I turned on the oven, which was a convection oven with a fan in it...did the temp conversion from Fahrenheit to Celsius, and started preheating.  I didn't have cookie sheets per se, so I lined the oven's baking trays with parchment paper and decided that would work. I wasn't too sure about the raw ingredients when I started mixing them all together. 
They were all different from what I was used to.  The flour smelled different, as if it would be used for bread, not desserts. The butter was a bright yellow, reminding me of margarine back home, the vanilla extract was a thick syrup...none of this looked right.  Still, I mixed away using my pot, my little hand mixer, and a lot of love.  I wanted to experiment with something other than chocolate chips, so I cubed up some Crunchies candy bar and threw that in.  If you've read my other blogs you know how much I love Crunchies.  They are honeycomb bars dipped in chocolate.  When the cookies came out of the oven and cooled, I took an excited bite....and let my eyes roll back into my head as I moaned approval.  The cookies were melt in your mouth fantastic with a rich, amazing buttery flavor I've never gotten out of a cookie back in the states.  I guess that butter is pretty amazing after all.  Putting the Crunchies in was absolutely brilliant.  The honeycomb bits had melted into sweet, chewy, almost toffee like bites, and the chocolate coating from the candy bar provided that little tang to compliment the amazing butter flavor.  WINNER!!!
I could hear the guys singing next door, so thought it would be nice to take them a plate of warm cookies. I went over and knocked. Nothing. The music was so loud I was sure they couldn't hear me. I stood there for a minute listening. They were actually quite good. I banged on the door again. The music stopped, and one of them came and opened it. He had a beer bottle in his hand, a mop of blond hair, and was pretty tipsy. He said hello and stared at me. 

I could hear the guys singing next door, so thought it would be nice to take them a plate of warm cookies.  I went over and knocked.  Nothing.  The music was so loud I was sure they couldn't hear me.  I stood there for a minute listening. They were actually quite good.  I banged on the door again.  The music stopped, and one of them came and opened it.  He had a beer bottle in his hand, a mop of blond hair, and was pretty tipsy.  He said hello and stared at me. 
"It sounds like you guys are having fun!"  I said.
He looked confused.  "We aren't botherin anything are we?"
"No, not at all."  I handed him the plate of cookies, which he took, but still with that confused look on his face.
"What are these fer?"
"I just baked a batch and thought you guys might like some."
"Well thank you."  Still confused...
"You're welcome" I said, turning to go back into my apartment door.  Their door started to close, and then another guy came back and opened it.  This one was wearing beach shorts, no shirt, aviator glasses, and also had a beer in his hand.  It was OK that his shirt was off, let's just say.
He looked at me, now going into my apartment door, and said:
"Do ye have a boyfriend?"
I turned, my hand on the nob, "No".
"Do ye want one?"
I laughed, "I think I'm fine for the moment".
"All right" he said disappointed.

I went back into my apartment shaking my head and smiling.

Since the cookies had been such a success, I started on my raspberry almond bars.  The office would be happy to have the goodies on Monday, and I could start my test group to determine if there really was a market for my particular taste for desserts.  When the bars were in the oven,  I made a massive pot of veggie soup, had some lunch, and plopped down on the couch to watch
Grease, as it was playing on TV.  They have a great old American movies channel here.  I dozed off and woke up an hour or so later.  I decided I was ready for another walk, so off I went towards the City Center.

 

As I walked, I remembered a couple people had told me about must-do pub crawls in Dublin, and I had been meaning to do one for a while.  What better night than this gorgeous summer evening!  I remembered that the crawls started around 7, which was perfect because it would take me a half hour to walk to the pub anyway.  I looked up directions to the one I wanted, and an hour later I was sitting with an ice cold beer, listening to wonderful live Irish music, loving life. 



THE AMERICAN shows Dublin how to do the 4th of July!

The 4th of July is my second favorite holiday (Christmas beats all), and I love it not only for the fireworks and pool-side buffets, but also for the fact that it's a 24 hour period when you're bursting with the pride of being an American.  You feel the importance of the national cause.  You have a history and heritage to uphold.  You take time to thank the men and women who fought and died for your freedom, and you stand in tribute to those continuing to fight for freedom today.  It's a day when I, personally, set aside my critical views of our political and commercial state of being, and I thank my lucky stars for the nationality I was born into.

Given that, yesterday was a hard day for me. It's not a holiday here in Dublin, so I was at the office. I could virtually smell the BBQs warming up back home, the fruit salads being prepared, the red, white and blue desserts popping out of the ovens. In my mind I could see the blankets being laid out for fireworks later in the evening, I could see the old cars lining up for the parade, and I could see my family applying sunscreen and gathering up the babies to go downtown for the festivities. They would all be together, laughing, eating, and having a blast. I sat at my desk working through irritating emails, these thoughts going through my head, and I started to get teary eyed. 

BUT, I whisped the tears away quickly, because my fellow office mates had gone out of their way to wish me a Happy 4th.  Some even wore the colors for the occasion.  A group had invited me to go out for the evening as the local Chamber of Commerce was throwing a 4th of July party, and SanDisk was invited as an American company with presence in Dublin.  I had dressed up for the occasion, wearing my blue dress, black heels, full hair and makeup.  Everyone was very complimentary...apparently i polish up pretty well.

Around 6 in the evening, the group headed out to the club where the party would start.  It was a rooftop terrace, decked out with lighting, food, and plenty of alcohol.  As soon as i walked through the door, we were greeted by the President of the Chamber of Commerce, and I was introduced as "The American".  He was thrilled to have someone from the States in the room, and we started a lively chat about my time in Ireland so far.  As the room filled with people I went around to mingle, and it was a great time.  I met the Mayor and we had a good discussion about the local politics.  I met businessmen and woman from the surrounding
companies, and of course, I spent some time with my office mates as well. Around an hour and a glass and a half of wine in, the President of the Chamber, the Mayor, and the VP of Global Operations at Symantec got up on stage for a toast and speech. "You are all very welcome to be here this evening, and a special welcome to Gina Piccardo, who is visiting us from the States. We hope you enjoy our tribute to your 4th of July celebrations." I was standing towards the middle of the room, so i smiled, waved, and thanked them for having me. After the speeches had finished, I could make my way through the room with everyone knowing who I was, and that made it easy to chat up the place. Most of my time was spent with the Mayor and President of the Chamber.  They were interesting to talk to, and were eager to hear my perspective on their local eccentricities, which i was happy to give them. 
By 8pm the food had been served, most of the wine had been gone through, and there was horrible 80's and 90's American music playing. By the way, the thing I learned about Irish drinking is it isn't necessarily the quantity they're known for, it's the speed at which they drink it. These folks throw it back like pros, and it was awesome to be around people that could keep up ;) We didn't stay at the venue much longer as there were other, more interesting pubs in the area to explore. We made our way downtown, and stopped at an older, traditional pub with plenty of grit and charm. We walked up to the bartender and he asked what I was havin'. I asked for white wine, as that's what I had started the night with. His facial twitch was just noticeable enough that, as he took the drink orders from the guys as well, I ragged on him about the fact that he was obviously unhappy with my choice. "No no" he said, "you'll be that much more fun later." I had to laugh at that. We took up our drinks, had a toast, and commenced with the discussions about random American facts.

The taps at the bar were not only plentiful, they were very big and tall, especially the Heineken taps, and as they were advertised as "Super Cold" under the name, the entire two foot tap pipe was frozen, and had a glimmery layer of ice all around it. One of my guys mused about whether your tongue would get stuck to the tap. I said we should find out. They
looked at me with big eyes, then eagerly encouraged me to do it. "Oh people probably pull that stunt every night," I said. "No one here would do that," was the reply. I gave Karl my phone, waited for the bartender to round the corner, then leaned over and stuck my tongue to the side of the tap. It didn't stick.  I was now their Champion, and I had a great picture to show for it. They had one more round (I had been on water since leaving the first club) and we went in search of new digs.

We landed at a club down the street that was very posh, and reminded me of a nicer club you would find in San Francisco. It was still relatively early, around 10pm, and the place was just starting to fill up. We grabbed a place at the bar and commenced with people watching, commentating, and, for them, drinking. A while in, our friends from the Chamber of Commerce appeared, and we all formed a larger group and kept up with the hob-nobbing. They were all pretty hammered at this point, and I was well near completely sober, so I just had a blast with them. I was now THE young American at the 4th of July party surrounded by influential, drunk Irish folks. Kid + Candy Shop.  I have lunch with the Mayor in a couple weeks and will be helping the Chamber put together their plan to enter into "Sisterhood" with Santa Clara County back home. GREAT FUN!

It was now midnight and the place was hoppin with a much younger crowd. I pulled the guys towards the dance floor, and they went VERY begrudgingly. I was actually a little intimidated. The large room had a big dance floor, lined with a bar on one side, tables on the other. The room had a high ceiling, a great light show, and Top 40s American music was blaring. This was my scene, but there were a bunch of attractive people dancing full out, and I was starting to feel a little timid, I'm not gonna lie. I stayed off to the side with the guys for a bit, watching the crowds do their thing. I think it was Ne-Yo featuring Pitbull's "Give Me Everything" that had be putting my glass down, saying "I'll be right back" to the boys, and I made my way into the middle of the dance floor just as the song hit.

10 minutes and 2 songs later, I was in the center of a circle of people, all eagerly watching my feet as I pulled out my one real dance trick....most of you have seen it (my go-to Lady Gaga move). The crowd LOVED it, and there were people all around me looking at my feet, trying to emulate what it was I was doing. They girls were going absolutely mental, all pulling me into their respective groups, and the guys were kind of standing back watching with smirks on their faces. Once in a while a brave one would make his way into the group to dance with me. I was over the moon having a blast. Back home people kinda just look at me like I'm weird. Here, they were all RIGHT WITH ME, and it felt like a mob dance scene out of a feel good 90's movie.

After watching the spectacle of "me" on the dance floor for a bit, the guys from the office meandered onto the sidelines of the dance floor and started swaying in a "cool" fashion. To my absolute surprise, though, just as a new song was starting to hit, one of them burst into the circle, swept me up and started twirling me around the room in a mix of ballroom dancing meets club craze. People gave us a BIG circle to dance within, really because they had to, but it was probably also something hilarious to watch. I had the biggest smile on my face as we danced our way through a set. It was absolutely brilliant. We took a break after that, sitting down at the table for a quick drink, but it wasn't long before another favorite song came on, and I was back out. This time a different member of the crew joined me, and he was a great dancer as well, more in-place and synchronized though, so a completely different feel. After his set, I stayed out and continued to dance with the groups around me, all very inclusive and friendly. It was an amazing atmosphere and so very different from home.

We didn't leave the club until 2 in the morning, and even then I had energy to spare. It had been a better night than I could have ever imagined. WHAT a way to celebrate the 4th of July. I do love home, and nothing beats a good old family BBQ....but being THE American at THIS 4th of July party is going to be hard to top....EVER.

Summer days driftin' away, to uh-oh those summer nights

Tell me more, tell me more?

If you insist :)

My London summer nights were hot, exhilarating, and exhausting.  There is so much energy and life here, you're never bored.  I had amazing Lebanese and Indian food, tried some new flavors and experienced some cultural deep-dives.  The warm, muggy night air had me glowing. 

My last night in the city followed a day of meetings with a wonderful crew of people who manage to get me into a bit of fun mischief every time I pop over.  They are an entertaining bunch who know how to work hard and play hard respectively.  As it was my last night in the city, Alena and her fiance Rob were determined to give me a taste of true London nightlife.  We had a mouth-watering feast at an amazing Thai restaurant in the city.  The pleasure of the food was only exceeded by the conversation, which got progressively interesting the more wine we drank.  Full and completely content, we left the restaurant for a tour around Piccadilly Circus, the surrounding areas of which remind me of Times Square.  On this Friday night, the area was jam packed with people out on the streets to do two things- drink and have a blast.  Every restaurant was sold out and every street filled with character.  The lights, music, and overall atmosphere commanded attention and drew you into a world of possibility.

After soaking in the sights, Rob and Alena thought the ideal way to end the evening would be with an English pint in a traditional English pub.   I couldn't argue with that!  They led me to a beautiful pub and we took a seat in a corner booth.  I had no idea which beer I'd prefer, so I asked Rob to surprise me, and he came back with a couple of options.  I chose what he called the "Pint of English Pride", as it was a traditional English beer, and I have to say, it had Guinness beat...sorry Dublin.

The closing bell had rung three times and the place was empty, but we were so enjoying our evening, we didn't bother to notice until a waiter kindly came by and announced we really had to get out.  Priceless.  "Closing time..." the song started to play in my head as the three of us wandered out into the streets, which were still packed, by the way.  Between Alena and I, our sore feet were complaining and we weren't moving as quickly as we had earlier in the evening.  We went down a variety of streets trying to find a cab, but despite Rob's masterful cab hailing skills, we had no luck.  No wonder with as many people as were still out!  We made our way to the Underground to try our luck there, but the station was just closing...no bueno.  At this point my feet felt as if they really weren't going to make it much further.  We parked ourselves on a corner and waited.  There was a McDonald's across the street and all I could think of was a Crunchies McFlurry.  Crunchies are an amazing candy here...honeycomb covered in chocolate, and the brilliant English decided to put clusters of this fabulous candy into a fluffy, creamy dairy-product.  One word...DREAMY.

My treat would have to wait, though, as Rob had caught a cab for us.  Alena and I both sighed with relief when we sat down and let our throbbing feet rest for a bit.  Before long, I was bring dropped off in front of my hotel.  I hated to say goodbye.  It had been a night to remember, and it was all because great friends had decided to dedicate their precious Friday night to showing me an amazing time.  I couldn't thank them enough for the experience.  Slightly tipsy, feet screaming, I wandered my way into the hotel, shuffled to the elevator, and once I was in my room,  collapsed in a fully-clothed heap on the bed.  It was a great night.

 

London Bridge is falling down...

Well, not really :)

 

My first trip to London, and MAN, you need to be on your game in this city.  It's a madhouse, literally...and makes Dublin look like a low-key walk in the park.
I'm still jet-lagged and waking up in the middle of the night wide-eyed and ready to rock.  Interestingly, at 4am you literally CAN rock here...not only is it somewhat light outside, people are actually out doing things!

My hotel room here is very nice, and at 4 in the morning, my rainfall shower is the perfect way to start the day.  Add Rum body wash, Peppermint shampoo and Cilantro conditioner, and it's just plain fabulous.  Those are also standard room amenities :)

I attended a press event today, my first one ever, and it was a great experience.  We rode a "rocket boat" down the river Thames, and it was just spectacular!  The river boasts fabulous views of Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, London Bridge, and the big ferris wheel...not sure what the official name is.  I was thinking it might be fun to ride that, but as my mom pointed out before I left, that's always the first landmark to get blown up in action movies...best to leave that to the other tourists I suppose. 

They have fabulous phone booths on every corner here, and I just had to
take a picture, despite the locals looking at me like I was mad. It reminded me of Dr. Who...an awesome TV show you should definitely check out if you haven't already...only surpassed in awesomeness by "Sherlock", the BBCs most fantastic creation ever.  I need to  visit Baker Street while I'm here...

I wandered along the crazy busy streets thinking I'd take advantage of the fashion hub London is know for. I went into a huge clothing store, packed full of people, and it reminded me of a clothes-only version of Walmart. There were hoards of people, clothes thrown everywhere, lines a mile long, and I think I was the only shopper in the store that was speaking English. I thought Dublin was worldly, and now I realize that was just pure naivete.

Abandoning the frenzied department store, I went to some of the more boutique-esque shops along the street. All I found were fashion trends I can only describe as trashy 80's retro, boasting schizophrenic designs and obnoxious neon colors. Clearly I wouldn't be buying clothes in London.  I know, I'm so boring! 
At the press event I had two bites of a warm chicken salad sandwich with bacon and too much mayo...it immediately turned my stomach.  So while walking around the city I decided ice cream would be the best fix for an upset tummy.  It was. 

As I was walking around, taking in the hoards of diverse people, shops, and agendas, it struck me that we put ourselves in specific boxes...at work, at home, in general.  When you take yourself out of your box and look around, the possibilities of directions to go in and areas to pursue are endless.  If you woke up one day in the middle of London with no past, no future, and no plan...how would you start your new path?  What directions would you look to go in?  What kind of new life would you build for yourself?  It's not just fun to think about, it's actually a great exercise in validating whether you're happy with your current box or not.  Sometimes we get so caught up in the rut, we run right past the other amazing possibilities right in front of us.

There and back again.....but where to stay?

Flying into Dublin, the sea of green was shimmering against the fresh sun and morning dew.  The sight brought on a sense of calm, which was only perpetuated when I left the plane and took a deep breath of crisp, cool, fresh air.  I was happy to be back, and at the same time, felt guilty for it.  What I realized about being back home was that I missed the people, and aspects of the place, but not necessarily the life.  The week back home had been a whirlwind of activity from early morning until late night, all week long.  Between work, family and friends, virtually every waking moment was consumed.  This isn't a complaint about something negative.  The trip was very typical of life at home, the way it always is.  I guess what my time in Ireland so far has taught me is that there’s a kind of day-to day that’s very different.  I suppose now that I’ve gotten a taste of being alone, without my wonderful network, and in a simpler living style, I’ve realised how much stress i was under at home.  It's all stress that I put on myself really, and being back, I fell into old habits and routines without a thought.  By the end of the week, I was feeling it, physically and mentally, and part of me was really ready to come back.

On the flight over, i started comparing the two lifestyles-

<My car back home
     My car in Dublin>



There's no comparing the two, obviously!  But back home, i HAVE to drive everywhere, and often the drives are long and tiring, consuming way too many hours of the day.  In Dublin, I can walk to the park, the grocery store, to the center of the city, and it's all about me, my feet, and the fresh air.

 <View from my room back home

View from my Dublin apartment>



My house back home is big and beautiful, with a great kitchen, 3 car garage, and some of the best views in south county.  It also takes forever to clean and there's always something that needs upkeep attention.  My apartment in Ireland is cozy, the kitchen is too small to do much with, but the view is ok.  It takes maybe an hour or two to clean, and the communal parking isn't bad.  The clothes washer holds maybe 5 pairs of pants and that's about it for a single load.  No dryer, so the clothes hang out to dry during the day.  My washer and dryer at home make even piles of laundry relatively easy to manage.  The big beautiful house at home is usually full of activity, people, and there's always something baking.  The apartment here is a quiet place to hang out and do my thing, as long as it's not baking.

                                                           

<Ice cream at home

            Ice cream in Dublin>



Ice cream at home is almost always shared with family.  Whether it's a scoop after dinner or a massive sundae on vacation, it's delicious.  The ice cream in Ireland is the tastiest, creamiest bit of heaven ...but it's all about the single serving here.

In Ireland, the people are friendly, the office is happy, the weather is interesting, and my days are mine to do whatever I want with.  I don't have to worry about anyone else.  I haven't felt legitimately stressed since landing here back in May.  Life is simpler here, and people enjoy it more.

Back home, people are rude and carry a ridiculous air of entitlement about them.  The office is stressed, the summer is hot, commuting is horrible, and people have a completely different set of priorities...not ones that are necessarily in line with mine.  I'm constantly pulled in a hundred directions and I nurse an unyielding drive to do more, better, faster.

Ireland is a calm breath of fresh air.
Home is an adrenaline IV.
Yes, i love it here, but there's something, THE most important something, that Ireland doesn't have....

 

MY FAMILY

Trinity College and the Book of Kells

Trinity College is a magical place for all but the students who study there.  Since I had the pleasure of visiting the weekend after final exams, there was an air of levity and excitement about the place.

The Book of Kells is amazing, and I'll get to that in a second.  First, a few interesting Trinity College facts and fictions.

Women were admitted into the college in 1904.  The year prior, the Dean said he would sign the agreement "over his dead body".  He was persuaded, signed the agreement, and died a few days later.  His body is buried under the corridor of the Women's Dormitory.  Women now account for over 60% of the college population.

The college currently has 16,000 students enrolled, less than 20% of whom are from other countries.

If you stand in the center courtyard, to the right is the Mess Hall and to the left is the Exam Hall.  Both buildings have identical facades, and you wouldn't be able to tell one from the other by looking at the exteriors.  The students here joke that they have Heaven on one side and Hell on the other.

The Long Room Library at Trinity is a stunning sight to behold. It is as if out of a dream from a time long past. Two-story shelves stretch their way from floor to ceiling, carrying leather bound books that house a treasure of considerable proportions.  People observe silence here, speaking only in hushed whispers when they must, out of respect for the history amassed within the walls.

The Book of Kells is kept in the library, and is an amazing piece to see.  It was written by Celtic months around the year 800 A.D.  It contains the 4 Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, but because it was written by Monks, the Latin has been deemed "horrible" and in some spots "unreadable".  They really focused most of their time on the pictures, and filled in words around them, when they must.  The book is over 1200 years old, and yet the pictures are still vibrant and detailed. 

It's sobering to see a hand-made treasure that old, crafted with purpose, and precision.  All the text and drawings were done by hand, the lines are seemingly perfect.  It took days for them to compose a page, colored with pigment from earthen plants and elements, yet seemingly from another world.

I close my eyes and imagine the hands that created these pages.  The room is dark, damp, and cold.  A few candles sit atop a large, wooden table where the Monk sits.  He has been fasting this week, but while his stomach aches for food, he is driven by a purpose of the highest importance.  His is a life of servitude, ruled by the church and fortified by the strength he gains from daily prayers and hard work.  Today he is finishing a page that has taken him three so far.  The illustrations were finished yesterday, and left to dry before he attempted text.  He takes the dull feather from the table and re-sharpens the tip with his blade.  His hand is starting to cramp, and the cold isn't helping.  Now pointed to his liking, he dips the quill into the ink and slowly, carefully, draws out another line of text. 

His mind wanders from the Gospel he is scribing, and seeks entertainment in thoughts of the next meal.  Perhaps it will not be a silent meal, and he will be able to share a word with one of his brothers about the grounds and how the crops are faring.  He wishes for fresh air and the slight promise of sunshine.  He re-focuses, only a few lines to go before the page is done.  One step further to completing a masterpiece, but more importantly, to completing a day's task.

I break from the daydream and come back to the land of cell phones and lattes.  I am all of a sudden very conscious of my surroundings.  Taking a minute to step back in time provides a whole new perspective when you re-enter your world.  That was one of the greatest gifts I took away from Trinity.