Saturday, November 1


Last night's trick-or-treats see us about in the neighborhood - think Charlie Brown and the Peanuts moving in a scrum from door to door. Ours have it down cold - the courtesy "trick or treat" usually forgotten as their expectation of candy is, well, obvious. Cruising the streets with the youngsters are roving gangs of dreaded teen-agers, to be avoided at all costs - the kids look warily away when teens are spotted. Perhaps their fears merited as our carved-pumpkins go missing and Madeleine cries out: "Those teenagers! They did this! Why? Why!" Otherwise, Eitan and Madeleine score big, which will surely be gone by Thanksgiving. Once home, the doorbell continues ringing and Madeleine dishes out Mars Bars and Snickers until we are cleaned out. So to satisfy the little beggers she goes into her personal stash and I am like: "why would you ever do that?" but she is concerned that her guests go away empty-handed. I must respect this. We head to Chris and Kate's for a post-action dinner party with Steve and Louisa while the kids upstairs watch Indiana Jones and we drink red wine. Our treat.

Eitan and I goof this morning while I wear my last night's costume, pictured, which gets a lot of bemused looks for the other patrolling adults. My description - "It's a chicken" - is a guaranteed guffaw. Go figure

"Thank you, your holiness. Awesome speech."
W., to Pope Benedict, Washington, D.C., April 15, 2008

"I'll be long gone before some smart person ever figures out what happened inside the Oval Office."
W., Washington, D.C., May 12,