O'Callaghan, going on his fourth marriage, was one of the few who said the institution should be reserved for heterosexuals. "I'm a bit more traditional," he said.--- the last sentence in the Bee's story about Sacramentan's reaction to the San Francisco gay marriage blitz.

Happy Birthday, Pagan!

One of our long-term friends at church is quite ill and today I see one of my former Girl Scouts, his daughter, is visiting. I didn't get a chance to say hello to her, drattit. Also, our first "baby priest" who was there from 1983-88, said Mass. He's looking much better than he did when he left, after some kidney troubles. He's the pastor for a church in Siskiyou county and shares duties at 8 outlying churches with another priest (they're going to have to give in and allow women priests eventually!)

The woman next to me leaned over and said "you have a lovely voice." I said "thank you" but then discovered I was positively crippled... I was very self-conscious from then on about my singing. I kept telling myself it was supposed to be for God, but I kept feeling it was for me.

Back at home we finished vacuuming and straightening up, and about 4:15 or so Monica and family turned up. She was embarrassed because she'd gone for the second Watt exit and it's gone, so she couldn't find her way home! It's only been gone about 6 months and we've all had to travel to the next exit at least once.

Sailor went bounding out to visit, which rather startled Genevieve, but then she remembered him from our stay at her house. He was up close and friendly with both girls, but Charlotte enjoyed him most. She'd pull his fur and he'd wag in her face or roll over for a tummy rub.

I had out the toys we have downstairs, old style Little People and a big letter truck and some alphabet and dinosaur squares. Genevieve also asked for some dinosaurs to play with, and whaddayaknow, I have some, and Charlotte enjoyed putting my Foster Imposter Chicken in her mouth. I also had my fancy kaleidoscope out for G. with supervision, though I put the stereopticon up out of reach. Monica is NOT ready for the dolls after all. She thinks Scarlett O'Doyle should go to a museum (actually, she'd like it herself, but I don't feel it's really mine to give.)

We gave G. some dinosaur soap, since it finally dawned on me that I'm quite unlikely to ever use it, and M. the praying mantis plant ties we got the other day. We had some non-popping bubbles to play with, too.

Dinner was spaghetti with garlic bread made with the garlic-blue cheese spread we got at the winery on Wednesday. G. doesn't like spaghetti, but this she ate. She liked the Sesame Street plate. Rich dug out some ice cream for dessert. I watched Monica's negotiation skills with Genevieve and we talked about the Apprentice. With all this experience, she's really ready! Three-year-olds are tougher than business executives!

Monica mentioned at one point that she was surprised I let them all live. The whining drives her nuts, as it did me. When G. was waving around the kaleidoscope Monica worried about the "I never get to have anything nice" remarks. Heh. Well, I must say, grandchildren are the reward for raising children!

"What do you say to Nana for making that nice dinner?" "I LIKED it!" Boy, I feel like a 5-star gourmet cook! And later, running back in from outside: "I forgot to give you a boos!"

What a wonderful weekend!!