With everything I've got going on in my life, I never have enough time. Between family, work and school, I get four hours of sleep a night and the rest disappears into a gazillion projects.
If plans were dollars, I'd be rich.
But...because of a promise to a friend, I squeezed out some me-time. I'd been meaning to explore Tacoma. It's a beautiful city that doesn't get enough credit.
"Tacoma", I'd say. And people would run around screaming, "Aack! Tacoma??" Like other cities don't suffer from gang violence and ghettos. Compared to Rainier Ave in Seattle, Tacoma is shabby seconds.
Every time I'd drive down I-5, I'd see a steeple off to my right. And for some reason, steeples pull me like a magnet.
I love old churches with a passion. The stonework and glass. The sheer weight and size of the doors. Maybe I spent too much time reading Robin Hood, but when I see a church I think "sanctuary".
The word resonates.
Turns out the church I saw is called the Church of the Holy Rosary. One of three sister churches established back in the late 1800's. Two of which I still need to find.
I'm not the best photographer, but it's gorgeous church with clean, sweeping lines.
The doors weren't open. I don't know why that's important to me, but..I guess I just like the idea.
I stumbled on waymarking. It means to gps interesting places. A long time ago it meant something else. Maybe I'm creating my own waymarks.