costume consultant

Snow in New York today, and here in arctic Canada, mild and sunny ... there is justice in the world. Again, I meant to go to my yoga class but just couldn't shut myself inside on a stunning afternoon. I did walk to the Y to leave a package for a friend, admired the new entranceway, after months of construction, full of colourful panels and automatic doors, and inside, preparations for the Pan Am games with many wheelchair athletes - thrilling. And then, I walked back. At the back end of October, every moment of sun is glory.

I hope Hallowe'en is like this, for the kids. My favourite store, Doubletake, is crowded with amateurs looking for Hallowe'en costumes, oblivious to the fact that you can actually dress yourself, not just in costumes but in very nice real clothes, for almost nothing. My son visited yesterday and said he's in the market for a sofa, which means I'll be haunting the store for the next while, waiting for that fine sofa to emerge, costing maybe $75, an early Christmas present for the boy.

My dear W*son is on a writing retreat out of town and I miss him, especially because today I cooked up a storm listening to Eleanor interview Jeffrey Eugenides, and I love to share the food - a pork, eggplant and tofu stirfry, and scallops and shrimps with peppers, with my friend. Eugenides talked about "the marriage plot" - how novels for centuries, Jane Austen, George Eliot, ended with women making good matches and happy weddings, and how that plot simply does not work any more, in modern times. He cited Paul McCartney's recent wedding, and how much the world is still always hoping for a happy ending. "That's a marriage plot," he said.

"It certainly is," I said.

Great news in the newspapers: first, a new peanut butter, Plumpy'nut. Scientists have developed an inexpensive, nutrient-rich peanut paste that is easy to feed to starving children not in hospital but at home. I knew my favourite foodstuff was a delicious miracle, but I did not imagine it would save the world. I was wrong.

A headline in the NYT could not help but catch my eye: "To Age Gracefully, Try a Drink a Day." Woo hoo! "Researchers found that women who drank one-half to one ounce of alcohol a day were 28% more likely than nondrinkers to achieve successful aging. Those who drank throughout the week rather than on a single occasion were also more likely to be healthy in old age."

That is FINE! Especially because I will define for myself what one ounce means.

An article in the "Globe" about a new industry: "costume consultant." Apparently busy people pay other people to find them Hallowe'en costumes. Last year friend Annie came over before a Hallowe'en party and left with a fake Chanel jacket and bag, a ton of fake pearl necklaces and other Coco stuff. Turns out I was already embarking on a new career. Should have charged a fee. Who knew?

And finally, great news from the British Isles, where female progeny as well as male are now in line for the throne. No, truly, huge. Think of all those poor queens who lost their heads to Henry the Eighth in his search for a son, which resulted merely in one of the best monarchs ever, his daughter Elizabeth. Took a few hundred years, but the powers-that-be have finally acknowledged that women are not dominated by their wombs. Moving right along!

And through it all, the crabby cat sleeps, sleeps, sleeps. How is it possible for a creature to sleep so much and still be alive? Ask me in January; I'll be competing for her title.