Diary: Manresa's Grandeur and Massiveness.

Monday, November 27, 2017. Hacking Through Hundreds of Words To Be Written. In a less than mellow mood, I tell you that I don't really like going on vacations. The worst part of them is getting from the bedroom where the luggage is packed at home to the arrival at the hotel. This always happens to me: the TSA guys always find two or three oddities in my clothes and bags. Meanwhile, those traveling with me disappear into the concourse, leaving me to lose my way among the crowds. But much worse lately is the amount of writing I have to do both before and after the trip. I used to do this easily, by using spare moments in the hotel. But now the computers are getting so complex that I can't really get anything started. I couldn't write more than a few words even with an entire three-seater in the back of the plane, allowing me room to stretch. Finally, vacations have a way of piling up. Last week was almost a week in Los Angeles. Four days later, I am getting ready for Manresa up the river. It's the most relaxing four days of the year for me, but I couldn't completely let go for some reason. Fortunately, the Jesuit priest who gave the retreat was very good, with a highly amusing style of writing and speaking. He told some good jokes, too. I can't bring myself to repeat the best of one. But if you see me somewhere, ask me and I'll tell it. Jude joined me for the retreat, his third. (My thirty-second.) We stay apart, as we're supposed to on this silent retreat, but we open up at the farthest reach of my walk on the levee. Most of what's on both our minds are our admiration for one another, based on minor matters like the time we spent in the Boy Scouts. He's making a lot of headway in his career and his fatherhood. Pride feels good when someone else knows about whay it should be. [caption id="attachment_44267" align="alignnone" width="400"] The vastness of sugar cane fields surrounding Manresa.[/caption] The food at Manresa is always simple but good. The best red beans I'll eat until next year at this time. A great slowly-braised pork loin is even better. I need to get that recipe.