I stepped in it. Just before getting into bed on the night before Christmas eve, I stepped in it. It felt cool on my foot, and slimy—definitely slimy. It squished up between my toes. And it was sticky—it took several minutes under the bathtub tap with soap to get it all off…and then I had to work to get it off the soap bar as well. The cat had left her gift of hairball right in the middle of the rug on my side of the bed, precisely placed to be found as I set my foot with my full weight to launch onto the high four-poster. Merry Christmas. Continue Reading
Unexpectedly on Christmas I saw the 1970 movie “Patton,” a nuanced portrayal of General Patton during WWII. Hearing lines from the psalms echo in the background of some solo shots of the General walking across a landscape, it was easy to see his instinctive identification with the ups and downs of David’s own military conquests, his times in and out of exile and being on the run. So now for a time I suspect I’ll be praying in the psalms alongside this image of Patton and all the morally ambiguous values regarding war that he embodied.