PicoBlog

Get 60 day free trial When I married into a large English clan more than 30 years ago, I acquired by adoption a rich storehouse of family lore. One of my favorite tales was that of Minna Turner, a devout spinster who had devoted her life to caring for her mother, and whom the family—which was originally based in a small village in Northamptonshire--had taken under its wing when Minna’s mother died.

Will Ferrell will forever be associated with “Elf,” which has climbed the ranks to be regarded as one of the all-time favorite Christmas movies, and clearly is trying to recapture a little of that old yule magic with “Spirited,” a tongue-in-cheek musical takeoff on Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol.” He gets to do a lot of singing and even plenty of dancing, and in these mirthful endeavors is joined by Ryan Reynolds, who’s not really associated with that sort of thing but makes an energetic go of it, along with doing his usual fast-talking-jerk-but-not-really routine.

One of the expressions being used in church conversations today is “spiritual” abuse, which is a species of power abuse. It’s real. There are not only problems with definition and foundations but some are in fact disputing the viability of spiritual abuse entirely. That position of thinking “spiritual” abuse is a faulty category will eventually be defeated. In the process of some criticism, however, light is being shed on defining spiritual abuse.

Reiki is, according to the International Center for Reiki Training, “a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing. It is administered by ‘laying on hands’ and is based on the idea that an unseen ‘life force energy’ flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If one's ‘life force energy’ is low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we are more capable of being happy and healthy.

*I wrote most of this last night, but thanks to a bit too much “coping” Prosecco, I didn’t quite land the plane until today. It’s Christmas night, and I’m home alone. My kids left with their dad around 4:30 this afternoon. I think that was the time, I do my best not to look at the clock because every hour that ticks away is another closer to when they have to leave.

Age of Mythology is a fantastic game. Made by the same studio responsible for the much more popular Age of Empires series (Ensemble Studios), Age of Mythology is a real-time strategy game where you take control of one of three ancient civilizations, the Greeks, Norse, or Egyptians (or the Atlanteans with the Titans expansion, and we won’t count Tale of the Dragon). Each of these factions has a rich mythology, and the normal playstyle of real-time strategy games is modified by god powers and myth units, which are fantastical creatures like a Chimaera or a Troll.

The Boston Celtics caused me multiple instances of social embarrassment in the spring of 2022. See, the thing is: I can’t really miss an important game. I can’t. I don’t have it in me. I try to grow up, I try to get over this, but I can’t. If the Celtics are deep in the playoffs, I could be at a press conference where the first alien to land on our planet announces what he thinks of us, and what his superintelligent civilization has in store for us, and I would be nervously checking my phone and tapping my foot impatiently, begging Xor’Zarx to get to the point so I can find a sports bar and at least catch the second half live.

It’s my favourite, and usually most popular, post of the year - the look ahead to the sports books that are due to be published next year. As always, a few of these will be pushed and plenty of great projects won’t have been announced yet. However, there are plenty of fantastic looking books already confirmed. For those who don’t want to read the entire list (although I don’t understand why not!

WITH today’s entry, the Salt Lake City Trappers’ bus heads to Medicine Hat in July 1988. The Trappers’ were the toast of the sports world the previous summer with 29 consecutive wins. The Blue Jays’ Pioneer League affiliate in The Hat were a miracle of another sort: the worst team in God’s creation. To get up to speed on how I wound up on the Trappers bus, look at two previous entries this week: On Tuesday, I dropped No.