I woke up at 4:30, 5:00, 5:30, 6:00, about every ten minutes from then on until about 7:00. Georgia time is only an hour ahead so I'm not sure why the sleep schedule is so loony.
I ate breakfast with my host family. Later I had a long discussion with Mark, the husband, about political system differences between the US and the UK. Riveting if I do say so myself. One comment stuck out in my mind about how in times of desperation, the US legislation is so spooked to action in agreement with the executive branch that the US isn't much different from the UK where the Prime Minister serves in both capacities. War would be a prime example in our times I'd suppose.
I drove down to The Church of Saint Michael & Saint George (henceforth CSMSG) to take a look around. I was supposed to call my advisor Father Michael sometime to talk about tomorrow's first day. It just so happened as I was pulling in to park he pulled up next to me. The same thing occurred when I got to my host home. No phone calls, lots of luck, if I believed in such things.
I toured Forest Park which is a stone's throw away from the church. This place is gigantic, with an art, science, and history museums as well as a zoo. According to Father Mike the zoo recently surpassed San Diego's as top notch. There are several golf courses and rolling green hills coming down from each building. "Art Hill" comes down from the art museum and is in the last remaining building from the World's Fair of 1904. Georgeous. This thing looks something akin to the Taj Mahal in layout. There is a pond followed by a stretch of green, though this one is uphill, topped with an old looking, majestic building. There are tracks for jogging, cycling, etc. A stage where they do Shakespeare on the green, several places to eat. But the best thing about the zoo, museum, and events is they're all free. Amazing. I never really went into Atlanta because every time I did research on their exhibits they all cost ridiculous amounts of money. This one is free and right by the church, bi-winning like Charlie Sheen.
The neighborhoods are full of beautiful hardwoods of various sorts, lush and verdant. The houses are in the Old English stye. Very quaint.
At the church I got a tour through the whole place. There is a chapel for Sundays, one for school mass which is used in the summertime for evening mass (it's quite funkadelic), and a tiny room with no more than 10-12 chairs used for daily mass. I'll be assisting in all of these sooner or later in varying degrees and two out of the three services on Sunday. Father Michael gave me my black shirt with my seminarian collar (nothing more than a standard white collar but with a black stripe down the middle). They're working on a cremains (word for cremated remains apparently) sort of 'cemetery' or whatever the word is for such an area. There isn't much room for a cemetery since all the land is filled with houses. I have my own office complete with several icons and pieces of religious artwork already up (all beautiful) as well as one creepy doll standing on a wooden platform surrounded by a glass shield. It reminds me of the rose from Beauty and the Beast except inside is the Blessed Virgin Mary in a black dress an frock. Father Michael informs me they put it in the "new person's office" and the church affectionately calls it "Scary Mary." It's an antique and they don't know what to do with it. It is a little creepy indeed, but I like it. I'm already programmed into the phone lines and my name appears on the digital face plate "Blake T." I've got calendars and event sheets with all the stuff I'll be doing already up. I've got my own key to lock the place up, a computer desk, chair, several book shelves both standing and wall-mounted. It's all rather impressive and too much for a measly 10-week intern.
Mari and Mark cooked dinner and invited the neighbors Peter and Bethany-Anne with their children Miles and Michael. I played with Francis while we awaited dinner and guests to arrive. Peter is in the advertising business, now selling electrical medical equipment such as defibrillators, pace makers, and the like. Bethany-Anne is a chemist who does something now, didn't catch it, but in the past has worked on antioxidants that are in plastics, worked for the company that produced the colors for M&M's, etc. Bethany-Anne seemed real keen on me and talked for me a long time about all sorts of religious topics and experiences with being Roman Catholic in Minnesota versus West Virginia. We have a similar sense of humor and we joked about me being "normal" even though I'm a seminarian. As a group we discussed whether or not to play the lottery - haha. I of course took up my political statistical training on utility outcomes as a model, but Bethany-Anne was quick to point out the entertainment value or "dream" value some get out of it. True enough, I ended up comparing such actions to voting. I guess we all play the odds in hopes of dreams sometimes.
I was offered water, beer, or wine. I took the classy choice of beer and Mark pulled out some imports and domestics. There as a single Miller Genuine Draft which I simply had to have in my wine glass. It went well with the ribs but seemed totally out of place for such a white linen event. I secretly found it funny but didn't say anything. We had a lintel soup before the main course of ribs, carrots, green beans, corn on the cob, cornbread and a desert afterwards of tiramisu, watermelon, mango, and strawberries. Mari is a very kind woman. I mentioned to her my favorite fruits were mangoes and watermelon and tadaa! they showed up. Mari got up and played the piano after desert. It felt very much like what I imagine old times to be like, when people old had one another for entertainment. Even though it was one song I thought it strangely enchanting and nostalgic. I am very fortunate to have such hosts.
I ate breakfast with my host family. Later I had a long discussion with Mark, the husband, about political system differences between the US and the UK. Riveting if I do say so myself. One comment stuck out in my mind about how in times of desperation, the US legislation is so spooked to action in agreement with the executive branch that the US isn't much different from the UK where the Prime Minister serves in both capacities. War would be a prime example in our times I'd suppose.
I drove down to The Church of Saint Michael & Saint George (henceforth CSMSG) to take a look around. I was supposed to call my advisor Father Michael sometime to talk about tomorrow's first day. It just so happened as I was pulling in to park he pulled up next to me. The same thing occurred when I got to my host home. No phone calls, lots of luck, if I believed in such things.
I toured Forest Park which is a stone's throw away from the church. This place is gigantic, with an art, science, and history museums as well as a zoo. According to Father Mike the zoo recently surpassed San Diego's as top notch. There are several golf courses and rolling green hills coming down from each building. "Art Hill" comes down from the art museum and is in the last remaining building from the World's Fair of 1904. Georgeous. This thing looks something akin to the Taj Mahal in layout. There is a pond followed by a stretch of green, though this one is uphill, topped with an old looking, majestic building. There are tracks for jogging, cycling, etc. A stage where they do Shakespeare on the green, several places to eat. But the best thing about the zoo, museum, and events is they're all free. Amazing. I never really went into Atlanta because every time I did research on their exhibits they all cost ridiculous amounts of money. This one is free and right by the church, bi-winning like Charlie Sheen.
The neighborhoods are full of beautiful hardwoods of various sorts, lush and verdant. The houses are in the Old English stye. Very quaint.
At the church I got a tour through the whole place. There is a chapel for Sundays, one for school mass which is used in the summertime for evening mass (it's quite funkadelic), and a tiny room with no more than 10-12 chairs used for daily mass. I'll be assisting in all of these sooner or later in varying degrees and two out of the three services on Sunday. Father Michael gave me my black shirt with my seminarian collar (nothing more than a standard white collar but with a black stripe down the middle). They're working on a cremains (word for cremated remains apparently) sort of 'cemetery' or whatever the word is for such an area. There isn't much room for a cemetery since all the land is filled with houses. I have my own office complete with several icons and pieces of religious artwork already up (all beautiful) as well as one creepy doll standing on a wooden platform surrounded by a glass shield. It reminds me of the rose from Beauty and the Beast except inside is the Blessed Virgin Mary in a black dress an frock. Father Michael informs me they put it in the "new person's office" and the church affectionately calls it "Scary Mary." It's an antique and they don't know what to do with it. It is a little creepy indeed, but I like it. I'm already programmed into the phone lines and my name appears on the digital face plate "Blake T." I've got calendars and event sheets with all the stuff I'll be doing already up. I've got my own key to lock the place up, a computer desk, chair, several book shelves both standing and wall-mounted. It's all rather impressive and too much for a measly 10-week intern.
Mari and Mark cooked dinner and invited the neighbors Peter and Bethany-Anne with their children Miles and Michael. I played with Francis while we awaited dinner and guests to arrive. Peter is in the advertising business, now selling electrical medical equipment such as defibrillators, pace makers, and the like. Bethany-Anne is a chemist who does something now, didn't catch it, but in the past has worked on antioxidants that are in plastics, worked for the company that produced the colors for M&M's, etc. Bethany-Anne seemed real keen on me and talked for me a long time about all sorts of religious topics and experiences with being Roman Catholic in Minnesota versus West Virginia. We have a similar sense of humor and we joked about me being "normal" even though I'm a seminarian. As a group we discussed whether or not to play the lottery - haha. I of course took up my political statistical training on utility outcomes as a model, but Bethany-Anne was quick to point out the entertainment value or "dream" value some get out of it. True enough, I ended up comparing such actions to voting. I guess we all play the odds in hopes of dreams sometimes.
I was offered water, beer, or wine. I took the classy choice of beer and Mark pulled out some imports and domestics. There as a single Miller Genuine Draft which I simply had to have in my wine glass. It went well with the ribs but seemed totally out of place for such a white linen event. I secretly found it funny but didn't say anything. We had a lintel soup before the main course of ribs, carrots, green beans, corn on the cob, cornbread and a desert afterwards of tiramisu, watermelon, mango, and strawberries. Mari is a very kind woman. I mentioned to her my favorite fruits were mangoes and watermelon and tadaa! they showed up. Mari got up and played the piano after desert. It felt very much like what I imagine old times to be like, when people old had one another for entertainment. Even though it was one song I thought it strangely enchanting and nostalgic. I am very fortunate to have such hosts.
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