Post by Ella
We visited a monastery this morning. Or more correctly, a Franciscan friary. Grubb is posting about that. But I could imagine a life of quiet service. And I learned the difference between monks and friars.
There was a Welsh woman helping in the Monastery Museum. All the placards were in French. Her job had been to translate the placards into English. She’d done it all manually and using pen on paper. The problem she said, was that one was expected to type the translation into the computer and that wasn’t part of her skill set.
The talkative Welsh lady went on to say her sister had lived in the US for a long time and they were all hoping “the lady” would win. Later we chatted with a young French guy who said the results of our election were disastrous. Thanks. We feel better now.
Out in the Monastery gardens, despite it being November, there were still roses in bloom and the scent permeated the grounds.. Other flowers were also in full magnificence. They aren’t crazy and they don’t care about narcissistic old men.
