The Weight of Glory

I'm sitting in the Cork airport, waiting for my (twice-delayed) flight to Paris. I've had a great three days in Ireland, beginning with a day in Dublin, then a day-and-a-half in the vicinity of Limerick. The people are scrappy, warm and light-hearted, the landscape is serene and the Guinness is abundant.

My next stop will be Paris for two days to visit a good friend of mine, Jean-Baptiste, and to visit Rue de Bac and Sacre Coeur, my favorite pilgrimage spot in all of Europe. Then I take an overnight train down to Rome, arriving Sunday morning, hopefully in time to make it to St. Peter's Square for the Angelus. Later that day, I'll have dinner with Mary Gibson (aka the Roamin' Roman) and other Catholic Studies students from the University of St Thomas. On Monday, I'll take part in a scavi tour and then have lunch with Fr. Andrew Cozzens, a priest of the Companions of Christ and a friend of mine from my seminary days in Saint Paul.

For now I'm documenting my travels with paper, iPod and digital camera... some of it will hopefully make it to the blog eventually.

I close with a limerick:



In a town of the bank of a river
Lived a man who detested cooked liver
"Try me once and you'll see
Just how good I can be"
Said the liver and cut him a sliver.

The man took it slowly
His eyes were quite rolly
Yet on tasting the slice
He thought, "This is quite nice."
Then he tasted another
Now he knew why his mother
Recommended cooked liver so wholly.