The port-swiller family attended a back-to-skewl BBQ at the eldest gel’s new seat of learning last evening, ahead of the beginning of the academic year next Monday.

It occurred to me as we mingled with the crowd and wandered about in the halls and classrooms, based on the rayther peculiar look I observed on Mrs. R’s face, that the true meaning and scope of “parochial school education” is suddenly hitting home.  God bless her for giving the okay, but I know it’s going to be a serious adjustment.

Of course, it’s also going to be an adjustment for the gel.  But I believe it’s going to be very beneficial, and in the end may lead to extremely gratifying results.  Indeed, I half hope, half fear that my young apprentice will become even more knowledgeable and powerful than me. (Not that this is a particularly high hurdle.  Indeed, I plan to follow along over her shoulder, as it were, as much for my own edification as for hers.  A few months of RCIA is all well and good, but it’s only the proverbial drop in the bucket.)