That’s sort of like lobster on a bun, but with less mayonaise (I’m trying to reduce). I’m plugging away at Shaken and Stirred in Siena, which I need to have completed, in one form or another, for my workshop on Monday. I might change the name to Shaken, Not Stirred, In Siena but I’m not sure yet, since the title doesn’t actually make a whole lot of sense anyway.Here’s another excerpt:
The church of San Domenico is most remarkable for being the resting place of Saint Catherine of Siena, one of the first women to achieve sainthood. She was born in Siena in 1347, and it was here, at the church, where she reportedly received her stigmata and performed some of her miracles. After her death, parts of her body were scattered about the churches of Italy as objects of worship. Being in her hometown, the Church of San Domenico managed to hang on to her head, which is displayed in a reliquary on the high altar. The area is roped off, and the reliquary is recessed far into the tabernacle, so the casual visitor is spared the details of this gruesome view. I go as close as I can without actually climbing the altar, and from there the head, propped up so it stares back at me, looks pink and waxy and fake, like some kind of Dominican Barbie. I kick myself for having left my pocket binoculars back at the hotel. For a moment I contemplate going to retrieve them, but decide instead to live with the illusion.