"The buying of more books than one can possibly read is the soul's way of aspiring towards infinity."

My most recent blog discovery, and I fear I am dreadfully behind the rest of you: Fifty Books blog. I requested about five books from the library last night, and it’s all her fault! I am happily engaged in reading her archives now.

I will probably finish Prime but it’s not really about Rickey and G-Man so it’s not all that compelling. I have a pile of books to retrieve from the library today:

• The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall
  
• Forrest Gump by Winston Groom
  
• Last Chance to See by Douglas Adams
  
• The Big Rumpus: A Mother’s Tales from the Trenches by Ayun Halliday. (I also want to read her new one, Job Hopper: The Checkered Career of a Down-Market Dilettante, but the library doesn’t own it yet.)

I am still waiting on Everybody Into the Pool and Diary of a Provincial Lady.

I am buying Audrey Niffenenegger’s Three Incestuous Sisters for myelf later this week.

Primo has discovered Babar. I thought the beginning, in which Babar's mother is shot by the hunter, might upset Primo but he seemed ok with it and is delighted by the rest of the stories. He's also been checking out the Madeline books. And he has informed me that he needs to get more books about the solar system when we go to the library this afternoon.

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I am dreading Thanksgiving. I get overwhelmed with the heat and noise and crowd of my in-laws’ holiday festivities, and generally just need to grit my teeth and get through the next two months. I may be the only person in the world who loves the month of February because all the holiday exertion is finally over.
My older brother is coming into town for this Thanksgiving. His visits used to be a nice thing but not so much now. I feel like he comes here to drink and sleep. I know he says he only really wants to see the boys but I can’t even take him at his word and leave him alone with them because he turns on the TV for them and goes to sleep. He’ll be here for a day and a half, and I have vowed to be nice and easy-going this time, but it’s going to not be fun.

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Segundo loves these little red berries and must pick some every time we go for a walk. (He doesn't wish to eat them, he just thinks they're very pretty ("Pitty, Mama? Pitty?"). And that they *smell* like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.)



Winter is really, finally, here.



I covet this stained glass window from the house on the corner. All of our stained glass was reportedly removed and sold by the owner’s ex-wife before the house went on the market. Thank God she was dissuaded from removing and selling the cherry staircase. Designing and building new stained or leaded glass windows is a task on my restoration list, albeit well under replacing the boilers and painting.



Primo made this “pinch pot” at preschool. I love it. Bring on the clay ashtrays!

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The church that runs Primo’s preschool has a little garden tucked into the nook between the main building and the offices. It has little stone benches and some decorations and it makes me feel peaceful just to look at it.
The rabbit plaque reads, "The finest gift is a portion of thyself."