One need not be a chamber to be haunted; One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place.

This is as ghoulish – and hysterical – as it gets. (This is particularly for those of you who not long ago contemplated chocolate-dipping and eating your offspring…) Happy Halloween!

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So the final (at least I hope!) decision is:
Simon – Peter Pan
Jude – Pongo the Dalmatian
Mimi – Tinkerbelle

I have no candy to give out yet and have already had my first fight with Si about the amount of candy he will be permitted to actually eat (as opposed to how much I can sneak by him and pitch in the garbage).

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We went to church again yesterday. We have kept it on the q.t. because I don’t really want my in-laws asking about it and seeing their faces glow with the delight that we are not going to hell after all, and their grandchildren may yet be baptized, even if it is “Catholic-lite” (Episcopal). Si spilt the beans today though. Oh well, had to happen sometime. The music grew on me this week, perhaps because the first piece was Handel, the second hymn’s words were written by George Herbert, one of my beloved Renaissance poets, and I actually knew the third hymn. Also, I really enjoyed the sermon – the usual priest was back from his conference. Bruce and his wife have been good neighbors and friends to us since we moved here; I like the idea of him being our priest as well.

A couple things I want to share:

The reputation of a saint depends upon the silence of his family.

And I love the prayer of St Francis which we say at the end of the service each week:

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O, Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

This prayer sums up much of what I think religion and being a religious person should be about.

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I *just* saw an ad for the movie of Myla Godlberg’s Bee Season. I liked the book. I even think they could make a decent movie out of it. But is Richard Gere the father, and Juliet Binoche the mom or the daughter Eliza? I think Gere is amazingly sexy – just not sure he’s right for this part. And isn’t Binoche waaay too old to be Eliza?

Did I mention I started Wickett’s Remedy? I will have to read it without reading all the little annotations, they are simply too distracting. Even if they are, according to my coffee-shop book reviewer, what the book is all about in terms of the reliability of memory.

I picked up Amy Scheibe’s What Do You Do All Day? from the library on Saturday and told Gina that afternoon that so far it wasn’t grabbing me. It started like another whiny, whinging book about a poor put-upon stay-at-home mom who leaves a lucrative and glamorous job and just can’t get a grip that maybe her kid doesn’t need to be in 20K per year preschools, and if they are, then what do you expect but spoiled, really rich kids for your child to be with and learn from? You know the books – “Oh, I am the only mommy here, everyone else is a black or Hispanic nanny.” Or “My darling child wants a pony at her birthday party now too, and all we ever did was a cake and ice cream.” But…this book broke out of that beginning rather nicely. It was more introspective than most books written in this vein, and the events more unexpected. The main character does indeed find herself and make peace with mixing her kids and career, for once in these books realizing that it’s ok to want some intellectual stimulation. Although I have never personally found the peace and meditation Jennifer finds in folding endless laundry and playing countless games of Candy Land with her children. . And the husband is not a schmuck. He works long, hard hours, but he’s a decent guy who loves her very much and treats her wonderfully. There were a few too many plotlines, but some terrific characters, especially the other mommies/caregivers Jennifer meets. I am glad I didn’t buy it, but I am glad I read it – thank God for my library.

I also picked up Poppy Z. Brite’s Liquor which I will start next. Gina really enjoyed it so…

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James went to the ped today. He weighs ten and a half pounds and does indeed have reflux. So tummy-sleeping and Zantac for him.

Sometimes I think that hanging out with James is a bit like watching Nathan Lane mime – and I keep expecting him to open his mouth and demand his Pirin.

Wisdom from the priest’s wife: “Some the most unholy thoughts I have come when I am in church with my children.”

I had a lovely hour with Gina Saturday afternoon. We met at the coffee shop sans kids and drank tea/coffee and talked. Despite the fact that we live maybe three miles from each other, we don’t see each other all that much. It was a wonderful way to spend some of the afternoon. I felt so relaxed and almost like a real person when I headed back home.

Emily Dickinson, in case you're wondering.