Halloween is Lucy's buzzword

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Her mother bought her the bee costume. She found it at Old Navy. It's a plush, sturdy thing, which, hanging on a rack even without a face, resembled a giant bee. But put a baby in it and it was a bee for sure. "An angry bee," her mother said, though Lucy looked anything but angry. Perplexed, maybe. Curious. (Why is everyone going "bzzz bzzz"?) But definitely not angry.

The costume has two layers. The bottom is a brown snuggly sleeper, and the top - the bee part - is yellow and brown and BIG…

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ST. ORDINARY: MOTHER TERESA'S HUMBLE LESSON

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ST. ORDINARY: MOTHER TERESA'S HUMBLE LESSON

Last Sunday, in Roman Catholic churches around the world, the Gospel told the familiar tale of a rich man's quest for Paradise.

"It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God," Jesus said.

This is a bold statement. But what does it mean? That the rich are doomed? That in the afterlife the poor finally get what they never had on Earth?

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October's song needs composing

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October's song needs composing

We look too much to museums. The sun coming up in the morning is enough. - Ralph Ellison

Especially these mornings. You wonder why anyone hasn't written a song about them. October deserves music and lyrics, long sighs, and an emcee's "Ta da!" Pink dawns that bloom into sparkling white days. Clean, clear air with a chill that somehow warms. Deep shadows. Green lawns. Roses AND mums. It doesn't get any better.

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Friendly circle grows sweeter

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Francesca filled them with chocolate this year. Not all of them. Just some.

They were small and round and hidden at the bottom of a plate, underneath the thin strips of sugary fried cookies that she makes and brings to my house every fall. Francesca bakes her special cookies and Liz makes her special salad and I order pizza and everyone brings wine. It's a tradition, a small party we had for the first time eight years ago when our children went off to college.

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Friendly circle grows sweeter

/

Francesca filled them with chocolate this year. Not all of them. Just some.

They were small and round and hidden at the bottom of a plate, underneath the thin strips of sugary fried cookies that she makes and brings to my house every fall. Francesca bakes her special cookies and Liz makes her special salad and I order pizza and everyone brings wine. It's a tradition, a small party we had for the first time eight years ago when our children went off to college…

Read More