All Things Considered

Roaming Around Rome - Part VI - Saint Peter's Basilica

 

Ryoma and I spent a day at the Vatican, beginning with a visit to St. Peter's Basilica, an enormous structure containing no less than eleven chapels and forty-five altars... and Bernini's fantastic Baldacchino (the Baroque canopy shown in the photos below, put up between 1624 and 1633). It also houses Michelangelo's Pietà, the famous marble Renaissance sculpture that was finished in 1499, when the artist was only 25 years old (see the final photo below); it now sits behind a bullet-proof acrylic glass panel, after being seriously damaged in 1972 by a mentally disturbed geologist named Laszlo Toth, who took a geologist's hammer to it.

Anyway, here are a few of the photos taken during the visit; I shall let St Peter's magnificence speak for itself.

Four Years on... It's Still Good to Almost Die

 

Did I ever tell you about the time that I almost kicked the bucket? Of course I did, but it's that time of year, so I'm going to tell you again. It happened at the end of January (2007), and it came as a complete surprise. Mind you, sudden almost-deadness, I imagine, is no worse than expected almost-deadness, except in that you have time to pack for the latter. Anyway, around this time of year I find myself becoming increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of my own mortality, that of those close to me, and the fact that your whole world can be turned upside-down in the blink of an eye. It's a yearly re-grounding for me; the reminder that I should never take a single thing for granted. It's a reminder of what's important.

It's so easy to get bogged down in the nonsense of daily life, to become entwined in conflict, or obsessed with work or money. It's easy to forget that while you're worrying about what will happen next week you may expire some time during this one. Death and taxes; the only two things you can depend on. I've just completed my tax return; I'm hoping not to die any time soon.

I was fine. Life was ticking along. One minute I was watching TV and eating a tube of Pringles, the next I was in hospital fighting for my life. So many things that had seemed incredibly relevant to me just hours previously ceased being important... permanently. There's nothing quite like a few days in an emergency assessment unit, wired up to beepers and with tubes sticking out of everywhere there's a place to stick them out of, to rid you of any preoccupation you might have with the size of your bum, I can tell you.

Almost popping my clogs was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I consider myself very fortunate. I don't make resolutions at the New Year. I don't have to. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to enter January without remembering that there might not be another one, that I should make the most of what I've got and never put off until tomorrow what I can do today, because tomorrow may never come. I'm grateful... perpetually. It's a nice place to be. So, four years on I can say in all honesty that it's still good to have almost died.*

*That said, I don't recommend you try it at home. Not without supervision at least.

Food Doesn't Kill Me Anymore!

The illness that resulted in my brush with death in 2007, being somewhat mysterious (as I couldn't possibly fall prey to a boring and predictable one), resulted in me developing various unusual food allergies, cutting down the number of foods I was able to eat without breaking out or choking to death to about three. It's amazing just how boring, not to mention frustrating, mealtimes can become when you are faced with the same few meals day after day after day. I even had to avoid eating chocolate... the worst nightmare of most ladies. And imagine a life without gruyere and parmesan... goat's cheese!

Over time, these allergies have disappeared... chocolate, coffee, tea, curry, and copious amounts of cheese can be consumed without worry, but I doubt that the effects of having had to give up so many of my favourite things will ever leave me. Never again will I take for granted the simple pleasure to be had from drinking a hot cup of coffee, or nibbling on a chunk of cheese. And these babies below... little bite-sized pieces of sheer heaven... well, I photographed them and then sat looking at them with deep admiration for an entire evening before finally popping one into my mouth (an Amarena cherry suspended in Amaretto buttercream - second from the right on the bottom row... what bliss!). Hotel Chocolat... How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Yesterday evening, Ryoma and I went shopping and stopped off at Costa. When my large cappuccino arrived, having only been able to partake for the past couple of weeks, I didn't know whether to drink it or get down on one knee and declare my undying love for it. I may run the risk of dissolving myself in a sea of coffee, at the rate I'm going at present, but I don't care. I can drink coffee... specifically, a Costa 'grande' cappuccino... without needing medical attention, so all's right with the world. After two and a half years of a Pringle-less existence, I ate half a tube a week or so ago. Every crunch on those little disks of crispy goodness made me want to run through the streets singing (not naked, thank goodness... though there's still time for that, I suppose).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to decide what to have for dinner... and as the options are more or less limitless (mayonnaise is still my enemy, but I never did like the stuff all that much), this could take a while!