Not Chaos like together crush'd and bruis'd,
But as the world, harmoniously confus'd:
Where order in variety we see,
And where, tho' all things differ, all agree.
Alexander Pope, Windsor Forest, ll.12-16
Friday night, the woman I love and I paid a visit on two new parents and their beautiful child; after I got in my baby fix for the weekend, we had a late light supper at the fabulous KODA Bistro in West Beverly. Before we headed north and west to return the elegant and beautiful woman to her home in the immediate west suburbs, I stopped by the house.
My Daughter Clare and her troop of pals, expanded from the St. Cajetan pre-school line-up, to include teen beauties and scholars at Mother McAuley, Marist and St. Iggy from every parish urban and south sub-urban, were thronged and polishing off post-Halloween Fun Size Milky Ways, Three Musketeers and Kit Kats, Capri Sun Juices, slices of Doreen's pizza, between the back door ( the only entrance employed on the south side) and front room ( pronounced Frunchroom hereabouts) AKA living room.
The fair dame's reaction went viral.
A dolor sit hominis castrum suum, vel alterius palude!
N.B. This Sunday morning's pre-Mass offering was inspired by Michael Moriarty's wonderful article on Bette Davis. Click my post title.
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