Angry Popeye did indeed flip the hell out last night at the Parish Council meeting about the african drum solo the new organist played. He was so angry he could barely speak. What he did manage to say came out like a Bill Cosby monologue: "the bings and the bangs and the drums and the bums...". It went on in that style for about 15 minutes. You just can't pay for entertainment like that.

In other Catholic news, we were told that the "ideal" (from the administration's point of view) parishioner to priest ratio is 2900:1. Can you imagine? My church is currently at 550:1. This is all driven by the priest shortage, which will only get worse. We will lose 30% of our priests by the end of the decade. Maybe the Church should embrace human cloning after all.

I have so much work to do that I am just rocking back and forth, muttering to myself. It's crazy. And I don't want to think about it.

Owen loves peach yogurt and these organic chocolate/mint faux oreo cookies. Every time I eat them, he does a little dance. Either he is dancing, or maybe he is writhing in pain because he is allergic or something. Can babies have food allergies in utero? The cookie thing he has done consistently, but it was the first time in a while that I had yogurt, and that was early this morning, so maybe he was objecting to Courtney Love's acting abilities.