<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667</id><updated>2012-02-08T01:09:00.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>MOMMENTARY</title><subtitle type='html'>Catholicism, family life, conservatism, Jane Austen, needlework, tropical plants, and general observations by Elinor Dashwood, aka Mrs. Cacciaguida.

</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>675</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-4984737139963763616</id><published>2012-02-08T01:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T01:04:59.855-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Geez, I turn my back for a few months and the Catholic blogosphere goes completely to pot.WHY THE HELL is there a Romney ad on Mark Shea's blog?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4984737139963763616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4984737139963763616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2012_02_01_archive.html#4984737139963763616' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8418627125191877974</id><published>2012-02-08T00:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T00:51:09.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This lady should really not be fretting so much.  I'm sure her son will come back alive from his mission trip.  At least he's gone to Indonesia to work on the Buddhists, and not to Central America to try to turn all the Catholics into Protestants.  My car will probably wind up perpetually dirty, because all the car wash fundraisers around here are either for the public schools, which are </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8418627125191877974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8418627125191877974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2012_02_01_archive.html#8418627125191877974' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-1648073405420242726</id><published>2012-01-24T17:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T01:09:00.614-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A bunch of people in a Facebook group I belong to have spent the past week griping about our first grade teacher.  You read that right: our FIRST GRADE teacher.  For most members of the group, that detail places the events complained of between forty-seven and fifty-five years ago.  The biggest pussy of them all professed to be surprised that none of Sister's traumatized victims had become a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/1648073405420242726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/1648073405420242726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html#1648073405420242726' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7011977598053481353</id><published>2012-01-24T16:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T16:29:52.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's a fairly common claim of various oddballs, including one or two who have gone on to become multiple murderers, that they have been visited by God in person.  I wonder: are Catholics less apt to be impressed by this assertion because we're quite used to the idea that God visits hundreds of millions of people in person every single day?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7011977598053481353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7011977598053481353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html#7011977598053481353' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-4593500520505042582</id><published>2012-01-21T14:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T15:04:45.989-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, whom do we all like in the GOP presidential field?  For a while I liked Newt, just because he doesn't have the immensely wearisome scripted-to-death affect that candidates are apt to have.  There's a mind and a personality in there.  I can't deny that it's an oddball mind and a flawed personality, but if we're going to wait for a perfect president we're never going to have a president at all.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4593500520505042582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4593500520505042582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html#4593500520505042582' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-4055296378985508379</id><published>2010-02-15T17:11:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T18:42:02.868-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So, how have you all been?We've all been fairly well here.  One of the boys had a bad accident - hit by a pickup truck while running - but has recovered with remarkable speed.  Cacciadelia wanted to go to public high school, so we let her, not without many fears and a certain amount of hostility on my side.  She has found her feet with extraordinary ease and swiftness.  I think I'll start </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4055296378985508379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4055296378985508379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2010_02_01_archive.html#4055296378985508379' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7398998030935759790</id><published>2009-01-04T11:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T11:48:12.332-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Well, December was crazy.In the first place, my mother died, aged ninety.  She fell and struck her head, causing bleeding into the brain. In view of her age and frailty, the doctor advised against an operation to clear out the hematoma, and she was moved to the hospice part of the hospital.  There she was comfortable and received water and medication, and all her children visited her.  By the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7398998030935759790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7398998030935759790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html#7398998030935759790' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-1518305562118661878</id><published>2008-11-27T12:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T13:59:55.742-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The government has been helping again.This year I thought I would do two turkeys, since everybody seems to love turkey sandwiches and one or two other things I make with the leftovers.  On Monday I bought two frozen birds, figuring that I'd roast one on Wednesday and one today, and put the meat from the first into ziptop bags to await later use over the weekend. I've never paid any heed to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/1518305562118661878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/1518305562118661878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#1518305562118661878' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-2636867230433781641</id><published>2008-11-18T09:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T09:45:31.915-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I just can't get excited about Thanksgiving.I don't know if it's from distaste for the Puritans, or resentment at all the lies we were told about them in grammar school, or whether it's just that it's such a confoundedly Yankee holiday.  Probably it's some of each.  In the first place, the Puritans did not, as we were informed in parochial school, come to the New World to establish religious </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/2636867230433781641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/2636867230433781641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#2636867230433781641' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7280279158475885334</id><published>2008-11-12T10:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T11:05:08.554-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Is it just me, or is there something intrinsically incongruous in a Mormon writing a vampire novel?Vampires are a profoundly Catholic concept, an inversion of the sacrifice of the Cross and of the Blessed Sacrament.  Our Lord Jesus Christ voluntarily gave his Blood and died so that we might have everlasting life.  The fictional vampire forcibly takes another's blood so that he himself might have </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7280279158475885334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7280279158475885334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#7280279158475885334' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-9063614802884861406</id><published>2008-11-09T17:19:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T18:16:34.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Some random reflections, brought about by my recent trip.There are three things wrong with traveling, from my point of view.  First, you have to leave home.  Second, you wind up someplace else.  Third, you have to use transportation to get there.  It was nice to meet the undergraduates, however.You know you're in a lame airport when one of the regular announcements over the public-address system </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/9063614802884861406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/9063614802884861406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#9063614802884861406' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7531668822465375248</id><published>2008-11-05T14:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T14:27:01.001-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>If Smart Girls Know their butt from a hole in the ground, it's more than one could guess from reading the eponymous site. Check out this intelligent analysis of the international political situation:Did you know that the U.S. currently ranks 71st in the world in women’s political representation? That’s right…women leaders make up just 16% of the Senate, 23% of state legislatures, and 10% of big </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7531668822465375248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7531668822465375248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#7531668822465375248' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7760964494682505250</id><published>2008-11-05T10:37:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T12:11:26.359-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Remember, these things go in cycles.They go in sixteen-year cycles, to be precise.  Think back to 1960, 1976, and 1992.  Americans, being on the whole comparatively prosperous and remarkably free from political oppression, have somewhat immature ideas about politics.  Specifically, they have short attention spans, and after eight or twelve years of more or less stable government, they get bored.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7760964494682505250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7760964494682505250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html#7760964494682505250' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-6393248558798056227</id><published>2008-10-28T12:01:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T12:53:29.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I stayed behind after Mass to watch a short DVD about voting one's Catholic convictions.  It was mostly out of curiosity, since Father said it was from the USCCB, and I offered to bet a nickel with an acquaintance who was also watching that there would be a lot about welfare and hardly anything about abortion.It was an interesting production, in some ways.  In the first place, there was no </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/6393248558798056227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/6393248558798056227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#6393248558798056227' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-1221156910344124706</id><published>2008-10-16T21:55:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T14:43:24.871-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Happy Battle of Zama Day!Which falls on or around this Sunday.  On or around October 19, 202 B.C., Roman armies under the command of the general Publius Cornelius Scipio defeated the Carthaginians outside the city of Carthage itself.  This feat is the more impressive in light of the fact that Hannibal Barca, the Carthaginian commander, had carried the fighting virtually to the outskirts of Rome </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/1221156910344124706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/1221156910344124706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html#1221156910344124706' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ejUXy7iThgM/SPf-V2y4LwI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Tv8qcHMYDr0/s72-c/hannibal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-143391460517073663</id><published>2008-09-17T09:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T09:41:35.534-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Why, exactly, did I go to Yale?I've been trying to remember what I thought it would be like.  Certainly I never imagined that it would be full of screwed-up people, but it was, and remains so, by what I can see in the current Yale Alumni Magazine.  One tender soul hopes, in the letters column, that in addition to thinking up names for two new residential colleges, the University will rename </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/143391460517073663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/143391460517073663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#143391460517073663' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-398327215640557497</id><published>2008-09-15T17:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T17:59:49.298-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hmm.I found a site called White Elegance while searching for modest clothing shops online.  This is a big concern in the LDS community, as it ought to be in ours.  One page on the site offered mens all-white clothing for Sunday wear, and posed the thought-provoking question, "Is It Time To Get Your Own Pants?"Having submitted the matter to careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/398327215640557497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/398327215640557497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#398327215640557497' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7963230302405869191</id><published>2008-09-14T11:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T19:20:15.761-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Kee-rikey!How did this come about?  A site called Virtual Woman's Day named me one of "96 Women Bloggers To Watch For Spring 2008".  The weirdest things happen when I'm not looking.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7963230302405869191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7963230302405869191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#7963230302405869191' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-3967558365872196281</id><published>2008-09-12T10:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T11:42:50.339-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've had rather a surprising piece of news today.  A man whom we knew a while back has died in the act of saving his disabled son's life.  Read the story here.We knew the Vander Woudes when we lived in Manassas and were fellow parishioners at All Saints.  I say fellow parishioners advisedly, because they had the most fellows (seven sons) and we had second most (four).  Commenters elsewhere have </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/3967558365872196281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/3967558365872196281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#3967558365872196281' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-9131834740651104875</id><published>2008-09-05T18:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T18:11:49.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Statler: It's nice to be heckling again.Waldorf: It's nice to be doing anything again!(The Muppets' elderly stage-door johnnies, as ghost Marleys in the Muppet Christmas Carol)I'm glad to resume blogging.  It affords a comfort Facebook can't really give, in an opportunity to spread myself and say everything that's on my mind.  Facebook has several very attractive features, but this is one thing </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/9131834740651104875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/9131834740651104875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#9131834740651104875' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7426463158660788954</id><published>2008-09-05T17:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T17:58:46.769-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Even some voters who were initially enthusiastic about the Palin pick were now more circumspect in the wake of the new revelations.  Christina Hewitt, a mother of three from St. Charles MO, attended a rally Sunday inO'Fallon MO and screamed enthusiastically for Gov. Palin.  But just two days later, the enthusiasm had died down.  "It is a little bit shocking because I'm pretty conservative so it </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7426463158660788954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7426463158660788954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#7426463158660788954' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-9203676075416415963</id><published>2008-09-03T23:09:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T18:19:07.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Okay, I'm back.I couldn't let Sarah Palin get by without adding my meed to the praise she's getting on all [right-minded] sides.  I don't know how to talk about her without sounding like a gushing fan, so I'll act like a gushing fan:SHE IS SO AWESOME!She's exactly the sort of woman who normally gives me the heebie-jeebies, and I won't pretend that I'd be thrilled if she moved in next door to us </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/9203676075416415963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/9203676075416415963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html#9203676075416415963' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-153551750561754837</id><published>2008-04-25T11:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T13:00:20.222-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Go to Cacciaguida to read his observations on the Holy Father's visit to New York CityIgnorant people like to complain about the grandeur of Catholic churches (in the past, that is) and claim that the money used to build and decorate them ought to have been used for the poor.  What they don't realize is that the poor built the cathedrals themselves.  I don't mean only that they were the laborers </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/153551750561754837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/153551750561754837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#153551750561754837' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-3937855390648066091</id><published>2008-04-18T15:27:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T15:55:15.418-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>MAYDAY!  MAYDAY! The secret's out!Noting that Benedict is choosing styles from the decades, even centuries, before Vatican II . . . some reformers express concern about what the Pontiff's clothing choices might indicate.  (Washington Post, 17 April 2008)Boy, you've got to get up pret-ty ear-ly in the morning to fool those Posties.  They've begun to suspect that His Holiness may have some secret </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/3937855390648066091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/3937855390648066091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#3937855390648066091' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-799242299776979485</id><published>2008-04-14T12:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T12:33:11.305-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I don't understand, and I think I never will understand, why people who look for twisty, cunning loopholes to avoid obedience to Church teaching on Papal authority are treated any differently to people who look for twisty, cunning loopholes to avoid obedience to Church teaching on marriage, or murder, or indeed anything else.  Would it be proper for me to comb Church documents seeking a way out </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/799242299776979485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/799242299776979485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#799242299776979485' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-200989058696887059</id><published>2008-04-13T10:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T11:32:13.332-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Catherine of Catholic Stewardship (very nice blog) observes that she has never heard of anyone trying to dissuade his son from considering the priesthood.I don't suppose you'd meet many people among homeschoolers who would discourage a priestly vocation in their sons.  I trust that this is because Catholic homeschoolers take the Faith seriously enough to know that it would be a great wrong to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/200989058696887059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/200989058696887059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#200989058696887059' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-905357389488532523</id><published>2008-04-12T12:56:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T23:33:16.708-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A commenter to a previous post asks, "I'm curious - why will your current parish be closing soon?"I'm sorry it took me so long to see this question.  We're in a severe priest shortage here, and a majority of the diocesan priests are past retirement age or very near it.  I don't complain, although I regret it: you can't keep a parish open without a priest.  They're calling this maneuver "</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/905357389488532523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/905357389488532523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#905357389488532523' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-4440843651539329497</id><published>2008-04-12T11:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T12:47:47.025-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've discovered Scrabulous.  It's an okay game.  In fact, it's a lot of fun.  I find, however, that, being neither a cooperator nor a competitor, the Solitaire version available on the site suits me best.  My luck, what?  I became diabetic just at the start of a vast increase in the range of sugar-free items (I love you, Russell Stover!), and I began to be socially phobic just as the number of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4440843651539329497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4440843651539329497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html#4440843651539329497' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-2145726813026653368</id><published>2008-03-27T23:06:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T15:31:46.910-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Eli Stone: Get StuffedAbout halfway through tonight's service . . . I mean, tonight's episode . . . I said that I would give this show one more week.  If it continued to deliver left-wing sermons, I said, I would give it the push.  I've changed my mind.  I'm giving it the push now.Eli Stone started out as a quirky, unpredictable program with an excellent cast.  The plots were offbeat and the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/2145726813026653368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/2145726813026653368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#2145726813026653368' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-9161051974572347971</id><published>2008-03-17T09:27:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T15:26:09.117-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hurray!  We had "All Glory, Laud, and Honor" for Palm Sunday, which is just as it should be.  Our organist has a dreary taste in general, and cleaves to the line hewn out by Oregon Catholic Press, but she occasionally becomes aware of the suitability of a particular hymn to a particular feast.  (It still hasn't struck her that "O God Almighty Father" would be especially apt on Trinity Sunday.)  I</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/9161051974572347971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/9161051974572347971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_03_01_archive.html#9161051974572347971' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7425473704122442355</id><published>2008-01-20T22:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T23:26:06.923-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Northanger Abbey is much, much better than I feared it would be.  This new production sticks pretty closely to the book, and the main characters are perfectly charming.  Felicity Jones is prettier than the book leads one to expect Catherine Morland to be, and has rather a look of the very young Kate Beckinsale.  I hope she doesn't fade so soon, or acquire so many irritating acting tics.  JJ Feild</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7425473704122442355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7425473704122442355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#7425473704122442355' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8340907970947713258</id><published>2008-01-13T10:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T18:33:09.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Conversazione chez Cacciaguida: Elinor, doing a crossword puzzle: Is it je-re-boam, or je-ro-boam? Cacciaguida: I'm not sure.  Whichever it is, though, I'm sure the guy at the liquor store will know what you mean. Elinor: Oooh, I'll give you such a pinch. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8340907970947713258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8340907970947713258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html#8340907970947713258' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-1306690938385655822</id><published>2007-12-23T10:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T10:29:36.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Blogiversary!Yesterday marked five years of Mommentary.  Here's the post that started it all.The Santa question. If you've read Cacciaguida recently, you've seen that we never did the Santa business with our children. That is, we read them "A Visit from St. Nicholas" and told them about the saintly bishop's character for doing charity by stealth, but we made it clear that the miniature sleigh and</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/1306690938385655822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/1306690938385655822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_12_01_archive.html#1306690938385655822' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-4901293580792332920</id><published>2007-12-18T14:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T14:20:56.801-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Cacciaguida's dad died very early this morning.  We're all extremely sad.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4901293580792332920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4901293580792332920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_12_01_archive.html#4901293580792332920' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-4551857801714176416</id><published>2007-12-04T12:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T13:00:42.701-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It was touch-and-go there for a while, but I think I will probably not die of this cold.  It started with that premonitory tickle in the throat, and I immediately set about bombing it with Zicam, a perfectly wonderful substance that usually cuts off my colds before they really get going.  It didn't stop the cold altogether this time, but has worked so well so often in the past that I'm inclined </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4551857801714176416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4551857801714176416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_12_01_archive.html#4551857801714176416' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-5932951321251561481</id><published>2007-11-16T13:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T12:34:05.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Tall Kid has turned into a dynamo.He's a fairly typical middle child in that he's very reliable and doesn't make havoc in the family.  Until now, his usual MO has been to do his job and his schoolwork with an efficiency that leaves him a remarkable amount of unstressed free time.  Lately, however, he has taken up political organizing in a way that simply staggers me.  He found out where to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/5932951321251561481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/5932951321251561481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html#5932951321251561481' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-3310515388044135083</id><published>2007-11-11T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T22:18:13.565-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Oh, b-rother . . .John at the Inn At the End of the World blogs a message from his pastor: On another note, I have already spoken to ourBishop, and we have good news: Bishop Brown, withall his love/charity and care, is going to allow us tohave the Tridentine Mass here, starting with the FirstSunday of Advent (December 02, 2007).  Now, as I understand our excellent Pope Benedict XVI's liturgical </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/3310515388044135083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/3310515388044135083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html#3310515388044135083' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-2083320386006711022</id><published>2007-11-08T21:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T15:34:30.718-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Conversazione chez Cacciaguida:Cacciaguida: What's happened to the toothpaste?  It isn't in the bathroom.Elinor: It's in the living room.Cacciaguida: What's it doing in the living room?Elinor: I was using it there.Cacciaguida: You were brushing your teeth in the living room?Elinor: No, of course not.  A CD was skipping.Cacciaguida: Never mind, I'm sorry I asked.Elinor, in Walmart: Where would I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/2083320386006711022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/2083320386006711022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_11_01_archive.html#2083320386006711022' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-6718140043240245287</id><published>2007-10-25T11:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T11:28:09.687-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The other day, Cacciaguida and I were speaking of the awkwardness of being added as a Facebook friend by someone one doesn't much like.  Inevitably the idea came up - we can never remember who thinks of these things first - of Facebook enemies.  How would that work?  I suppose you'd get an email saying that John Smith had added you as a Facebook enemy, and you'd confirm or deny it.  The idea </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/6718140043240245287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/6718140043240245287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#6718140043240245287' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-5190563462857762394</id><published>2007-10-23T16:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T16:38:09.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Belated congratulations to Louisiana's new governor-elect, the sound and admirable Bobby Jindal!He's prolife, a good conservative, a convert to the Faith, and everything fine about him.  I fear that he's bitten off more than he can chew, however, if he really means to rid Louisiana of graft.  I don't suppose the state employees there literally know any other way of doing their work.  God bless </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/5190563462857762394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/5190563462857762394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#5190563462857762394' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-4931371040690908999</id><published>2007-10-20T13:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T15:03:02.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I see from Cacciaguida that JK Rowling has admitted that she did really mean to color her story with faith:...That was the plan from the start, Rowling told reporters during a press conference at the beginning of her Open Book Tour on Monday. It wasn't because she was afraid of inserting religion into a children's story. Rather, she was afraid that introducing religion (specifically Christianity)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4931371040690908999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4931371040690908999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#4931371040690908999' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8956735199207937482</id><published>2007-09-24T15:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T15:34:05.110-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Oh, great. Pleasant Company, maker of the American Girls dolls, has come out with a character doll who is enduring her parents' divorce.  I haven't got hold of the books - the library doesn't yet have them, which rather surprises me - but I don't expect to find that they involve the parents' realizing that they're being selfish and immature, and deciding to work at staying together so that their </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8956735199207937482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8956735199207937482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#8956735199207937482' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8417828429617893815</id><published>2007-09-21T15:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T14:29:37.701-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jane Austen, on planning a dinner party:The persons to be invited required little thought.(  Emma, Ch. 34)Good thing, too, seeing as the party is to take place in Highbury and will include Mrs. Elton.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8417828429617893815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8417828429617893815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html#8417828429617893815' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-827314438461126822</id><published>2007-07-25T12:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T13:09:57.175-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SPOILER yadda yadda.C - R - A - Aaand wasn't I right?P - P - Y Why, did you think I wasn't?K - L - U - G - E!I said she'd painted herself into a corner about the death of Dumbledore and couldn't get herself out of it without a crappy kluge, and she couldn't. Yo, Rowling - killing an innocent person is WRONG, even if he asks you to do it. Murder isn't wrong because the one killed didn't want to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/827314438461126822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/827314438461126822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#827314438461126822' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8930958407443616204</id><published>2007-07-19T23:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T23:23:32.421-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I just remembered this passage from Trollope, on the subject of spoilers.And what can be the worth of that solicitude which a peep into the third volume can utterly dissipate? What the value of those literary charms which are absolutely destroyed by their enjoyment? When we have once learnt what was the picture before which was hung Mrs Radcliffe's solemn curtain, we feel no further interest </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8930958407443616204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8930958407443616204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#8930958407443616204' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8852249703910294172</id><published>2007-07-19T21:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T23:23:07.396-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Everybody's talking about spoilers, but nobody seems to be divulging them.My view is that what happens in a book is really one of its less important features. I'm far more interested in the quality of the prose and construction than in the events per se. You can't be an Austen expert and hold the view that the book is ruined for you once you know how it ends. The surprise can only last a moment, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8852249703910294172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8852249703910294172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#8852249703910294172' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7481996121038122400</id><published>2007-07-12T22:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T23:09:00.054-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A couple of questions.Why does Privet Drive look so rundown?  Why is Petunia Dursley dressed like an off-duty cocktail waitress?  Why has she redecorated the house in the Crappy Chic style?  Why do the Wizengamot wear those idiotic hats?  Grimmauld Place looks even drearier on film than it does in the book.  And btw, why doesn't Voldemort have a nose?  Is it that he's got this snake thing going </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7481996121038122400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7481996121038122400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#7481996121038122400' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8130569189235490466</id><published>2007-07-09T14:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T14:13:03.627-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A word to the wise is sufficient. You need to take a serious look at your Sudoku habit when you start saying strange, zenny things like, "Sometimes it's the one you don't know that tells you the most."</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8130569189235490466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8130569189235490466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#8130569189235490466' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-6195989968671410957</id><published>2007-07-09T12:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T23:10:07.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One more reason, if another were needed, why marital fidelity is a good thing is that it frees the mind. Lots of things are funny that wouldn't be funny at all if you had to worry that your spouse was misbehaving. An example chez Cacciaguida from a few weeks ago, as he was making some space in the closet:Cacc: Do you think any of the boys could use this jacket? It used to be part of a suit, but I</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/6195989968671410957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/6195989968671410957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#6195989968671410957' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-3845764943954681872</id><published>2007-07-08T22:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T22:21:59.501-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Wouldn't you know it.  From the recently released Vatican document on the celebration of the Tridentine Mass:"Art. 5. õ 1 In parishes, where there is a stable group of faithful . . ."There's always a catch.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/3845764943954681872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/3845764943954681872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#3845764943954681872' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8099385831154372985</id><published>2007-06-01T14:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T12:38:51.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm really starting to dislike Dumbledore.I'm most of the way through Half-Blood Prince again, and I'm noticing particularly the way Dumbledore has always put Harry into the Good-Child Bind. This trap, with which anybody who was not a nuisance as a child is no doubt familiar, consists of a person in authority expecting the good child not to resent the treatment he receives at the hands of the bad</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8099385831154372985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8099385831154372985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#8099385831154372985' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-5346966682163405178</id><published>2007-05-28T11:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T12:39:17.397-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's our anniversary.Twenty-four years ago today Cacciaguida and I were married, and set out on the big adventure. What I chiefly remember of the day is that it had rained pitchforks and shovels every Saturday that spring in Connecticut and all the garden weddings had been ruined, but the sun shone brilliantly on us. Just for a change it had been pouring all day on Friday, but it cleared up </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/5346966682163405178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/5346966682163405178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#5346966682163405178' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-7855742875788547456</id><published>2007-05-15T20:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T12:40:03.960-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>We've been dipping into the Harry Potter corpus again, in preparation for the next movie and last book, both to be released this summer. I've been thinking over the latter, and have some hopes for the final installment of the series. These aren't predictions, although I did some of those a while ago.1. I hope Harry doesn't die. I don't think he will: JK probably realizes that her residuals would </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7855742875788547456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/7855742875788547456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#7855742875788547456' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-490888507867745410</id><published>2007-04-20T19:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T12:40:45.969-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There's stupid, and then there's Betty Trachtenberg.Yale's associate dean has prohibited the use of weapons in stage performances, in view of Monday's terrible events at Virginia Tech. Under strong persuasion she so far yielded as to permit "obviously fake" toy weapons.It's hard to see how Yale students are to be made safer by equipping Cyrano de Bergerac and Henry V with the sort of wooden </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/490888507867745410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/490888507867745410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_04_01_archive.html#490888507867745410' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-4380867511233348115</id><published>2007-04-03T13:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T13:47:08.258-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Re the Merseyside Hate Criminal: This shouldn't surprise anyone. England hasn't been a free country for close on a hundred years, and the situation is only getting worse. Four officers to tell off an eleven-year-old for calling names? I don't know if the boy in question was bullying or merely talking smack to a playmate, but it isn't relevant to the case. If the latter, the charge is unjust as </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4380867511233348115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4380867511233348115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_04_01_archive.html#4380867511233348115' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-4297901518271076264</id><published>2007-04-03T12:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T12:43:41.928-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Well, there goes another Palm Sunday without "All Glory, Laud, and Honor". By the way, our diocese takes part for some reason in LARCUM, which stands for Lutheran, Anglican, Roman Catholic, United Methodist. It used to be LARC before the UMeths decided they wanted in. As far as I can make out, the main activity seems to be to pray for Christian unity, by means of reading out the names of one </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4297901518271076264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/4297901518271076264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_04_01_archive.html#4297901518271076264' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-2129057870029031128</id><published>2007-03-10T15:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T15:26:26.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Golly.  I've been so much occupied with other things that I haven't checked back to see the comments to the post about the Tridentine Mass.Nobody's happy when I go to the Tridentine Mass, so I hardly ever do.  I absolutely point-blank refuse to go around with a lace curtain on my head, so when I go I wear a scarf, which slips off, or a hat, which embarrasses the boys.  I don't mind a bit that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/2129057870029031128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/2129057870029031128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#2129057870029031128' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8023300498213200719</id><published>2007-03-10T13:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T15:33:51.745-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>He's free.The imcomparable John Inman, best known to Americans as Mr. Humphreys of Are You Being Served?, has died at the rather early age of 71. In recent years he was England's most prominent pantomime dame. Pantomime, which in England means not a silent performance but a sort of extravagant comic revue, is an ancient form of entertainment somewhat akin to commedia dell'arte, and is practically</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8023300498213200719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8023300498213200719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_03_01_archive.html#8023300498213200719' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-8772693541616914793</id><published>2007-02-25T16:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T14:59:27.455-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've been thinking a good deal about the Tridentine Mass recently.I have a few questions, and I'd be glad to hear the views of faithful Catholics (ie, not members of the Society of St. Urban the Tenth) about them. For starters, whose butt falls off if the priest speaks clearly enough to be heard? I've attended licit Tridentine Masses on and off for more than twenty years, and only once could I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8772693541616914793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/8772693541616914793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html#8772693541616914793' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-117209411354954165</id><published>2007-02-21T16:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T16:42:09.306-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"There are few people whom I really love, and even fewer of whom I think well."This has nothing to do with Cacciaguida, of whom I think very well, or of any of my relatives.  It would be a great kindness if you could spare a little prayer for me in a very wrenching situation involving a friend.  Thanks.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/117209411354954165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/117209411354954165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html#117209411354954165' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-117043774254787800</id><published>2007-02-02T11:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T15:16:03.674-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've figured out what's wrong with these novels people write about modern-day vampires. I've been reading some of Stephen King lately, being rather fascinated by the conjunction of really good writing in what are generally really bad genres. Just now I'm reading 'Salem's Lot. The flaw in these books is arithmetic. Vampires don't die, absent special circumstances, and they have to go on biting </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/117043774254787800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/117043774254787800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html#117043774254787800' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-117039223965320463</id><published>2007-02-01T23:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T13:00:11.873-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Happy birthday, Jonathan Lee!Twenty-one years ago today he was born, and immediately began doing things his own way. Like his elder brother, he had delayed for two weeks beyond his expected date of arrival. Unlike his brother, he was strictly business when it came to waking up at night. For three weeks he woke at about two, fed efficiently for fifteen minutes, and then went immediately back to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/117039223965320463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/117039223965320463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html#117039223965320463' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116690138657030453</id><published>2006-12-23T13:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-23T14:44:19.856-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's time to annoy people again about Santa Claus.Yo, Virginia - there is no Santa Claus.  There's no sleigh, no reindeer, no making-a-list-and-checking-it-twice, no elves, and nobody landing on the roof.  If you put out cookies for Santa, make sure they're the kind Daddy likes, because that's who's going to eat them.  In fact there's none of that North Pole toy workshop rubbish at all.So, what </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116690138657030453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116690138657030453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#116690138657030453' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116681982087787156</id><published>2006-12-22T15:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-23T14:45:51.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My sentiments exactly.A further problem with these huge inflatables is that they require a fan to keep them set up.  Presumably this means that they're more expensive to display than lights, and the habit in these parts is to shut them off during the daytime.  This creates a large expanse of vinyl flattened out on the lawn, disconcertingly reminiscent of the chalk outline marking the place where </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116681982087787156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116681982087787156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#116681982087787156' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116543915088234707</id><published>2006-12-06T15:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T16:05:50.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>More on the roofers.They seem to have yanked off all the old shingles, and are now hammering some more down.  The man over the garage keeps banging out the first few notes of the Green Acres theme song - Tap Tap tap TAP TAP - while the one above the kitchen does that jazzy six-note introductory bit sacred to tap-dance routines, and the fellow directly over my head is a freestyler.  I suppose this</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116543915088234707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116543915088234707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#116543915088234707' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116543310559373690</id><published>2006-12-06T13:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T16:08:46.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's a weird experience to have one's roof replaced.Cacciaguida and I have owned houses (two of them) for nearly twenty years and never yet had to replace a roof, but I suppose it comes to everyone in the end.  Well, it came to us this autumn.  The process is as follows.  First, you look in the telephone book unter Roofing Contractors, and select the ten businesses that seem to have the best </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116543310559373690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116543310559373690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html#116543310559373690' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116287237640262157</id><published>2006-11-06T22:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T23:09:24.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This is fun.  Use this ingenious day counter to find out how many days (or hours, or seconds) it has been since your birth, or between any two dates.  The same site offers other intriguing features, including a calendar for any year.  (I used it to make a calendar for the year Jane Austen was born.)  It will probably waste some  of your time, but it's very interesting.  According to this site, on</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116287237640262157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116287237640262157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116287237640262157' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116283962596162261</id><published>2006-11-06T13:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T14:22:14.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ahem.I'd like to make a few points about l'affaire Dreher.In the first place, I wish he had stayed in the Church, even though I'm not a particular admirer of his.  I commented on Cacciaguida's blog that at least he wasn't our problem anymore, but that was unworthy.  He ought to be our problem.  Everybody ought to be our problem.Second, leaving the Church because of insufficient episcopal and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116283962596162261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116283962596162261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html#116283962596162261' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116222230076860735</id><published>2006-10-30T10:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T12:37:10.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I've said it all along.The great thing about the internet - besides that it makes it so much easier to send presents and buy used books - is that it enables harmless eccentrics to find one another.  I'm sure this contributes as much to human happiness as the vacuum cleaner or the electric typewriter.Some time ago I blogged about a comical garment called the Practikilt, and mentioned that I had </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116222230076860735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116222230076860735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html#116222230076860735' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116216283075578373</id><published>2006-10-29T17:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T18:02:48.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's election season.If you aren't all worn to death with answering opinion surveys, let me know what you think of this proposition.  Our parish is looking for people to volunteer for various jobs, including teaching adult education.  The intended audience is parishioners who would be hanging around between the early and late Masses on Sunday morning because their children are in CCD.  They want </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116216283075578373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116216283075578373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html#116216283075578373' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116059251983517642</id><published>2006-10-11T14:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T14:48:39.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>How am I?  I'm glad you asked . . .Although I generally enjoy fairly good health, I've been subject for years to autumnal bouts of respiratory trouble.  Like Iolanthe, "[my] chest was always delicate", and it's never been a cause of real anxiety.  There are worse things than having bronchitis, after all.  Just about exactly twenty years ago I had bronchitis and morning sickness at the same time, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116059251983517642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116059251983517642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html#116059251983517642' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116058983817036826</id><published>2006-10-11T12:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T14:11:26.630-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hoodoo?  I do, apparently.I've mentioned before that I seem to be a whammy, or jinx, in the baseball postseason.  Of course we don't believe in such things, but it's extremely funny to observe that our team always does worse when I'm watching.  On Saturday evening I came downstairs for a while (I'm ill, as to which more later), when the Mets and Dodgers game was in the third inning and the score </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116058983817036826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116058983817036826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html#116058983817036826' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-116015781048333195</id><published>2006-10-06T13:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-06T14:03:30.506-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Well, I swan.You can't read the sort of things I read without hearing a good deal about gout.  This morning I Googled it, and found an interesting article on the subject.  As I suspected, its prevalence in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries in England was due in part to putrid water systems.  During the whole period between Alexander Pope and Anthony Trollope, you were taking your life into </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116015781048333195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/116015781048333195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_10_01_archive.html#116015781048333195' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115915273028823126</id><published>2006-09-24T20:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-24T22:52:10.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mwahahahaaa! The diocesan Women's Commission has put out a questionnaire asking us all about our spiritual lives and what we hope the Church - or, at any rate, the Women's Commission - might do to make us feel visioned and empowered and convicted and all those lay-ministry sort of things.  They handed it out after Mass this morning, and you may be assured I went to bat for Our Side with a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115915273028823126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115915273028823126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_09_01_archive.html#115915273028823126' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115599294690227530</id><published>2006-08-19T07:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T09:56:13.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The new Miss Marples really, really suck.Agatha Christie's grand old lady has had a patchy time of it in the talkies, beginning with Gracie Fields on the small screen in 1951, and ranging through such what-were-they-drinking miscastings as Angela Lansbury and Margaret Rutherford.  I've heard that Helen Hayes was not bad, but for my money, the best was Joan Hickson in the BBC series in the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115599294690227530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115599294690227530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115599294690227530' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115566268695767242</id><published>2006-08-15T13:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T13:26:58.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Happy Feast of the Assumption!Hail, holy Queen enthroned above, O Maria!Hail, Queen of mercy and of love, O Maria!Triumph, all ye cherubim,Sing with us, ye seraphim,Heaven and earth, resound the hymn:Salve, salve, salve Regina!Thou source of joy to us below, O Maria!Thou spring through which all graces flow, O Maria!Angels all thy praises bring,Earth and Heaven, with us sing,All creation echoing:</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115566268695767242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115566268695767242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115566268695767242' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115491507377095151</id><published>2006-08-06T21:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-06T21:51:30.063-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Check out today's Washington Post Magazine for an article about the frenzy to get one's toddler admitted to a high-status preschool in Washington.  It's fairly good Schadenfreude material, all about Type A weenie parents starting to pile the pressure on their children when the children are hardly old enough to sit up by themselves.  The author thus excuses her meshugas to her husband, as they </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115491507377095151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115491507377095151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115491507377095151' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115471298665723822</id><published>2006-08-04T12:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T15:57:31.266-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mark Shea has looked in to observe thatmy quarrel is not with the notion that being drunk reveals "who we really are". My quarrel is with the notion that *sin* reveals "who we really are".That seems a rather impractical distinction.  We don't have much opportunity to deal with people as they really are, as distinct from their ideas and actions.  I don't know the content of anyone's real self, as </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115471298665723822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115471298665723822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115471298665723822' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115446719806284719</id><published>2006-08-01T16:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T14:55:45.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Oh, for crying out loud.I don't keep up much on the news, most of which involves only people outside my circle of relations and friends and is thus rather uninteresting to me.  Consequently I didn't hear about the Mel Gibson thing until everybody else already knew that he'd had a snootful and been taken into custody.  Frequent readers will not be surprised to see that I have several conflicting </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115446719806284719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115446719806284719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_08_01_archive.html#115446719806284719' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115220081975968219</id><published>2006-07-06T11:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T11:46:59.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Fish bulletin.  The larger fish chases the smaller fish at feeding time.  The little one nonetheless holds its own, and manages to grab food even on the fly.  They're both larger than when I bought them, so I assume they get enough to eat.I'm assuming they're both male.  At least, I hope to goodness they are, and that this round-the-mulberry-bush business is pure competition for nutrition, or </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115220081975968219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115220081975968219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115220081975968219' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115207263183138171</id><published>2006-07-04T23:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-05T00:10:31.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Here's some late-breaking news from the local ABC affiliate.Interviewer (speaking to young girl whose mother is going off to Iraq): Some people say mothers shouldn't go to war.No, really?  Some people - like, for instance, everybody in the WHOLE FREAKING HISTORY of Western thought - say that those especially charged with the care of the next generation should not take an active part in heavy-duty</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115207263183138171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115207263183138171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115207263183138171' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115154427492032223</id><published>2006-06-28T19:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-06T11:49:39.463-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On fish.I don't mean sport or seafood, but inhabitants of the common domestic aquarium.  We've never been a pet family, which I used to think was sad, but now recognize as a very good thing.  I had dogs and the occasional cat until I was married, but Cacciaguida was firmly set against having animals in the house, and I've come to agree with him.  The bind is this: there would be no sense in </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115154427492032223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115154427492032223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#115154427492032223' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115055813430193569</id><published>2006-06-17T11:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-17T11:28:54.303-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Rejoice with me!Cacciadelia's summer shirts - all seven of them - are finished.  Now I get to make three or four pairs of shorts and capris, but those are easy.  It's a lot of work to dress a girl if you want her to look like a lady and not like trailer park trash.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115055813430193569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115055813430193569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#115055813430193569' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-115040095381242795</id><published>2006-06-15T15:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T15:49:47.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Cacc Watch on the subject of betting.Elinor: This must be the Cacciaguida blood coming through.  No Dashwood would play cards for money any more than he'd invite the nuns to go streaking with him and round off the evening with a visit to an opium den.Cacciaguida (with great dignity): I'd never visit an opium den.Bada-bing!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115040095381242795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/115040095381242795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#115040095381242795' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114978393089332016</id><published>2006-06-08T11:25:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T19:04:52.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Maps and the man I sing.  Specifically, of MapQuest.  This, if you haven't encountered it, is an invaluable service which gives driving directions from, essentially, anywhere to anywhere.  MapQuest is one of the most wonderful things I've ever found on the internet.  It has the quality, rare in this world, of identifying a problem and solving it.  The problem it solves is not entirely getting the</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114978393089332016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114978393089332016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#114978393089332016' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114892119632056530</id><published>2006-05-29T11:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-17T11:26:08.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Something that had been hovering at the edge of my mind for a while became clear to me this morning.  Yesterday's Washington Post Magazine had an article about scientists who are skeptical about global warming.  One at least has lost nearly all his research funding because of his views, and they have all been shrieked at and derided in public by apostles of the view that we're all going to burn </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114892119632056530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114892119632056530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114892119632056530' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114843371827824863</id><published>2006-05-23T20:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T21:21:58.370-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It has been a while since I last blogged.  Part of the reason is that I've been wanting more sleep recently, and part is that Jonathan Lee has been conquering the ancient world.  Also I'm making Cacciadelia's summer clothes, using Simplicity patterns 4155 (church outfit) and 4572 (capris and shorts), and an out-of-print McCall's pattern for campshirts.The most exciting thing that has happened </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114843371827824863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114843371827824863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114843371827824863' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114642266639429498</id><published>2006-04-30T14:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-01T11:05:28.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Here's a question.When Cacciaguida and the two youngest and I got to the gate at Camp Lejeune last week, we stopped, as required, to get a day pass.  Cacc came out of the office a moment later with a countenence of doom: he didn't have a current copy of the car's registration, and it looked like we couldn't get on the base to welcome Jonathan Lee back to the US.  He went back in to see what could</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114642266639429498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114642266639429498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114642266639429498' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114608148349416187</id><published>2006-04-26T15:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T15:58:03.506-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jonathan Lee is in the building!We've just picked him up at the reserve center and brought him home.  He intends to put up some pictures on Morristown, which will be interesting to see.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114608148349416187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114608148349416187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114608148349416187' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114580993346860515</id><published>2006-04-23T12:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T11:10:26.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hoo boy, is Cacciaguida going to have a busy summer.  Jeff tells us about Diane Sawyer's coverage of the Opus Dei angle in the upcoming film of the DVC.Have you noticed the way Dan Brown's book has brought out everybody's Inner Rube?  People who would rather be tied by the wrists to a pig's tail than enter an old-style snakehandling Holy Roller church are coming over all shivery about the Work's </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114580993346860515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114580993346860515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114580993346860515' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114573381627966716</id><published>2006-04-22T15:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T11:10:08.126-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jonathan Lee is back on US soil.  Cacciaguida, Greg, Cacciadelia, and I spent a very cheerful day with him yesterday at Camp Lejeune.  He arrives back at his own reserve center this coming week, and then he'll be able to live at home again.This morning I raced out to the Fed Ex place to send off an item JL needs by Monday.  I post this merely to establish a very irritating thing that has happened</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114573381627966716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114573381627966716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114573381627966716' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114537304273180812</id><published>2006-04-18T10:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T11:38:50.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Gregory is watching a favorite movie of ours, A Man For All Seasons.  We're at the scene when Henry comes to More's house and starts hectoring him about the divorce.  What an actor Robert Shaw was!  I've always admired Paul Scofield, but it just occurs to me today what a tour de force Shaw's portrayal of Henry is.  You can see the affability, the shrewdness, the talent, the childishness, the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114537304273180812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114537304273180812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114537304273180812' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114519807114753975</id><published>2006-04-16T10:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T10:34:31.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia!Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia!Who did once upon the cross, Alleluia!Suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!Hymns of praise then let us sing, Alleluia!Unto Christ, our heavenly King, Alleluia!Who endured the cross and grave, Alleluia!Sinners to redeem and save. Alleluia!But the pains which He endured, Alleluia!Our salvation have procured; Alleluia!Now above </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114519807114753975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114519807114753975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114519807114753975' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114494465837862972</id><published>2006-04-13T11:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T11:37:39.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mad, Bad Toddy Brown does it again. Check out the fuss when a woman went to receive Communion kneeling.  He seems, according to Gerald and Jeff, to have lost his marbles to a certain extent, and started grabbing at the woman to pull her to her feet.  (Gerald has both still photographs and video.)These dissenting types absolutely hate it when the Blessed Sacrament is treated with particular </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114494465837862972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114494465837862972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114494465837862972' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114481756824945251</id><published>2006-04-12T00:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T00:52:48.253-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This weekend on our northward trip we listened to the first part of Kenneth Harl's most interesting talks about the Crusades.  These are obtainable from the Teaching Company, an organization that has given us a lot of pleasure and instruction over the years.  You know, I always rather suspected that I'd learn more about history and theology - subjects for which I have no particular natural bent -</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114481756824945251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114481756824945251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114481756824945251' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114478956632888821</id><published>2006-04-11T16:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T17:06:07.803-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Keep your eye on Bishop Edward Slattery of Tulsa OK.  The admirable John at the Inn publishes several excerpts from the bishop's letter on the subject of music and conduct during the Mass that will cheer the hearts of those who prize reverence and beauty over dull music, lame jokes, chitchat in the pews, and star turns by choirs, lectors, and cantors.  Drop in on John to read more, and, as ever, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114478956632888821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114478956632888821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114478956632888821' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114468615778666366</id><published>2006-04-10T12:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T12:22:37.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Curt Jester has a charming post about those homemade shrines to the Blessed Mother that used to be all over the place in Catholic neighborhoods.  This type of devotional is colloquially known as a "bathtub Mary", because the surrounding structure consists of an old-fashioned free-standing iron bathtub sunk vertically into the ground on its tap end, and a figure of the Virgin stood within the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114468615778666366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114468615778666366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114468615778666366' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114417072156073486</id><published>2006-04-04T13:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T13:13:59.390-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Thanks to all my faithful readers!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114417072156073486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114417072156073486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114417072156073486' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114373532113009834</id><published>2006-03-30T11:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-16T10:36:11.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>For the past few weeks, leaving a comment on Davetown has been a distinctly hit-or-miss proposition.  Sometimes it registers, and sometimes it doesn't.  When it doesn't, and I hit Submit again, it tells me that I've already said that.  Here's what I tried to post in reply to yesterday's Quote of the Day, from the late Stanley Kubrik:I think the big mistake in schools is trying to teach children </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114373532113009834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114373532113009834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114373532113009834' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982667.post-114306816033359298</id><published>2006-03-22T17:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T18:26:13.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Very crafty, Bishop Loverde.  Bring in altar girls at the same time as you lift the ban on the Tridentine Mass.  That way we can't rake you over the coals as you deserve for the former, because we're all kvelling over the latter.  Well, it's your diocese; I can't stop you trashing it.  My predictions are that virtually none of the hundred or so parishes will hold the line on altar girls, for the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114306816033359298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3982667/posts/default/114306816033359298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mommentary.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html#114306816033359298' title=''/><author><name>Elinor Dashwood</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01411641949018580453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
