All Saints' Day

One more Hallowed eve gone by. I missed out on the church's "hallobaloo" event this year, which is sad. There's nothing like three-year-olds in dinosaur costumes to take your mind off of research projects. I didn't have a scarf for my Dr. Who costume, so there wasn't any point in dressing up anyway.
(What I really need is to find a credible young woman who will knit one for me. Hmmm... The advantages to the married lifestyle are hard to ignore sometimes.)
On the positive side, I stayed at the library long enough to avoid the spectacle of my grandmother and sister dressing the dogs up again. I love those women, but their sadism really surprises me sometimes. Poor Gopher, dressed like a crocodile, praised for his good behaviour but with that look of abject misery in his eyes...
Also on the plus side, I managed to escape the horror of witnessing the unholy combination of tulle and cellulite. Yikes. (I read a comment from some columnist in Boston on a similar subject the other day, but I like the way MLE says it better.)

Now we can get on with a real Holy Day: Día de Los Muertos!
Well, okay, maybe that one's not so hot either.

Do we have any real Holy Days left?
Good Friday, I suppose... not that anyone recognizes that anymore...

I listened to the CBC for fifteen minutes on the way home last night (I guess that makes this a confessional of sorts...) and they played a program about St. Brendan.
All they talked about was life in coastal Newfoundland and the "journey of the imagination" that makes Brendan's story so fascinating.... Blech.

Holy Days in a media-saturated society are just depressing. Time to go back to my cell and do more devotional reading...

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