her    On this New Year’s Eve afternoon, as I watch the New England Patriots win again, I’m organizing my 2017 Goodreads Challenge and deciding what it should be for 2018. I challenged myself to read 52 books, but as of this minute, I’ve read 102. Wow.
    I read for compassion and to keep from getting too involved in the daily drama of politics. I don’t read to compete with anyone, and certainly not with myself. Putting my list on Goodreads is a great way to keep track of what I’ve read.
    Last January 1st I never imagined that I would read 100 books. Thinking I could to so again might encourage me to slip into a competitive mood, rather than read for compassion. 52 books still feels like a calming number, calming and attainable. I read for the love of reading. Besides, who knows what 2018 will bring.
    You can see my list of favorites for 2017 here

Regardless of one’s faith tradition, the story of the birth of Jesus touches us all. For me it is about starting again, especially since my birthday is five days after Christmas. New ideas, ways of being, routines, rituals, attitudes can be born in me, which means I have to let go of some of the old ones that are useful anymore.
A baby is born with nothing, so a place to begin is to pare down possessions. Jesus wore bands of cloth; I have a closet full of things to wrap myself in. Baby Jesus was taken care of, and as he go older he took care of others by thought, word and deed. That is what we are born and reborn to do, regardless of faith tradition.

Today the four of us (my husband, daughter and son-in-law) were among the sixteen thousand visitors at Longwood Gardens. The complex is enormous and well organized. We walked around with ease inside the four acre conservatory, and wandered about the grounds enjoying the magical lighting. Our timing was perfect. We had a reservation for 2:30, found a table at the café, and just as we were ready to leave, it started to pour.
https://longwoodgardens.org/gardens

    I made it home Saturday with ease. Yes, a long day but what should I expect with such an itinerary: A rainbow sent me off from the Florence airport, to the Charles de Gaulle airport, to Boston, and then home. I’m back in the swing of life especially since I’ve been getting up at 4 AM to start my day with a couple of strong, black cups of American coffee.
    The other good news is that I haven’t turned on the TV, at least not for the news. The Patriots win, yes, the political soap opera, no.
    The best good news is last evening’s Christmas caroling with my church. We sang at a nursing home, two community living complexes, and a couple of individual homes. Although at each place we sang for a special member, many, many others enjoyed the festivities and sang right along. 

       When in Florence during spring and fall I must walk at least ten miles a day. In December I do a little less. The temperature is colder and daylight hours diminished, but that’s not an acceptable excuse since the temperature is decidedly above freezing and the streets are well lit. Rather, I believe that the dark and cold of winter call us to hunker down and take stock of our faith, by which I mean the meaning and purpose of our life. If nothing else, we walk slower to breathe in this awesome, mysterious, and humbling world, wondering where we fit in.

      A benefit of solitary travel is that I have an extended period of time to consider things. Please, I don’t choose the word things lightly. I need a word that is unspecific and that covers myriad topics, ideas, dreams, subjects, themes, issues, events, passions, and obsessions—all those things. You can tell that I checkedmy computer thesaurus; the list could be longer.
      One of the things I’ve been considering is this blog—ways to spruce it up, clean it up, add the new, get rid of the old—little things. It is the big things that I will keep: the name, acottagebythesea, and the purpose, A blog for those who are looking for silence, solitude and simplicity, and who sometimes want to be alone. These are my heart, my bliss. I’ll keep blogging and blabbing, and from time to time include a recipe, travel article, poem, and book review.

       Here’s what I posted as an update on “About me and my blog.”
      I started acottagebythesea in 2009, the year I first rented a cottage in Maine for the winter. I followed that bliss for five years before it was time to stop. This blog, however, has continued because it was never about a particular cottage, but about those who are looking for solitude, silence and simplicity and who sometimes like to be alone. That still holds true for me, and I trust, for those of you following along.
Not much has changed for me except I am older, about to celebrate my 78th birthday. I still have a healthy husband who doesn’t like to travel, but loves that I do. Our grown children and their spouses are caring people. Two grandchildren are in college, two in high school. I love my three siblings, one who just turned 70, one in her early 70s, and one just experiencing what it’s like to be an
My teaching career remains a beautiful memory. I taught in a golden age when teachers helped children learn to read and love it. Teachers are still buying my book Joyful Learning in Kindergarten. It warms my heart to think that they are longing for joy, not standardized tests, to guide the teaching and learning in their classrooms.
     The divinity degree I earned in 2003 remains an important foundation for what I do. For five or six years I was the spiritual care counselor for a local hospice. In 2009, two years before my mother died at age 101, I stopped the official hospice work, and to a large extent devoted my mind, body, and spirit to her. In 2015 I published Very Grateful: The Story of My Hundred Year Old Mother and Me.
    I have slowed my life down. I take on fewer long-term obligations, thus leaving more time for my own choices. I am a deacon at my UCC church; I visit people on a regular basis; I help at a local food pantry; I read and do jigsaw puzzles; I keep up with family and friends; I write; and I pray. A very grateful life, for sure.

       I just completed the second half of my church walk. This time I  headed north from the Duomo to San Marco (Dominican), and then on to Santissima Annunciata (Servite). As I turn toward Santa Croce (Franciscan) I noticed San Ambrosia way down the street, so I took a detour there.  Next, back toward city center to La Badia and Orsanmichele. I was all over the map! Before ending this church walk at Santa Trinita, I crossed the Arno to Santa Felicita, then crossed back to view Santi Apostoli, one of the oldest and pretties churches in Florence. It’s fair to say that my final destination was to Chiaro Scuro, where they serve the largest cappuccino and provide a comfy place to write.

This morning I was off on my early morning church walk by 7:30. My plan was to stop and photograph the façade of every church and then be on my way. Usually I don’t have a planned itinerary when I take this walk; my body seems to turn in one direction, I put one foot in front of the other, and I’m on my way. Since all the churches of Florence fan out from Santa Marie del Fiori (and conveniently my apartment is right on the square), it was appropriate that my first photo was of the Duomo. My route then led to the Medici church of San Lorenzo, Santa Maria Novella (Dominican), church 0f Ognissanti (Umilati), Santa Maria del Carmine (Carmilite), and Santo Spirito (Augustinian).
       Usually I complete my church walk in a single morning, but today I stopped to write and enjoy a cappuccino at Piazza Santo Spirito. As I entered the café I noticed antiques and craft vendors setting up booths to sell their wares. By the time I left, the early dawn atmosphere for a church walk had passed, and the busy Florentine day had begun. I wander about the stalls, deciding to finish my church walk at dawn tomorrow. 

     Further observations on yesterday’s festivities for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. In spite of the rain, folks were out and about on the streets with umbrellas. The weather was no determent. Long lines formed to attend Mass at the Duomo. Crowds gathered to witness the lighting of the Christmas tree.
     All wonderful. I noticed, however, that I had no desire to participate actively as part of this joyful community. Maybe it’s because I’m not Roman Catholic; maybe because I have chosen to travel alone; maybe because I could watch the tree lighting from my apartment window—probably all three.