Bells
Every day this week, I'm going to paint a picture of the Cleveland I know in exactly 100 words.
One of my favorite things about our neighborhood is hearing the bells of St. Rose of Lima, which chime every six hours. They’ve been a real comfort to me, being out of work, because they give my otherwise formless day parameters.
On Sunday evening I was kneading bread dough when the bells started to chime. It made me wonder what it was like to live during a time when Cleveland was dense with Catholic immigrants, schoolchildren running up and down the street, old grandmothers shouting in a half-dozen Eastern European languages that it was time to come in for dinner.
One of my favorite things about our neighborhood is hearing the bells of St. Rose of Lima, which chime every six hours. They’ve been a real comfort to me, being out of work, because they give my otherwise formless day parameters.
On Sunday evening I was kneading bread dough when the bells started to chime. It made me wonder what it was like to live during a time when Cleveland was dense with Catholic immigrants, schoolchildren running up and down the street, old grandmothers shouting in a half-dozen Eastern European languages that it was time to come in for dinner.
posted by Christine Borne at 6:13 AM
3 Comments:
This is a great idea.
I love the imagery here.
Thanks. I'm just going to look straight down the middle, not at the good or bad, and call it as I see it.
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