A class fieldtrip might be a leisurely stroll on a sun-drenched beach for a discussion of Howl or a chance to see Sean Penn in a local play. During Thanksgiving vacation I drove South on coastal Highway 1 to Los Angeles. The weather was still mild enough to camp along the way. Those nights, lulled to sleep by the waves of the Pacific and nestled in a Redwood grove, were utterly peaceful. Back home at the Bransten House, our resident chef is a hip woman named Patty.
Every meal is delicious.
If, after losing a bet, I was forced to eat an Aussie right now my body would probably reject it. The house is incredibly cozy. My room has carpet on the floor and some days the scent of salt-water drifts through my open window. One of the classrooms is a few steps from my door. I will take this opportunity to remind you that this is a program offered by Trinity.