Busy being dead

Wandering through an old neighbourhood in Bari, Italy a few years ago on a hot hot summer day. We browsed the shops, explored the narrow streets and curious piazzas and stopped in on all the churches. (I am on a mission to find all the Marys I possibly can… and Italy is literally the mother-lode.)

Mary Mary Mary

Will the REAL Mary please step up? Ever since I was a girl I’ve been fascinated by statues of the Virgin Mary. I remember praying to them from time to time, begging them to move, to give me some sign. It never happened. No wink, no nod, no show of tears. I’m okay with it