If you’ve not seen A NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM, and you’re an Owen Wilson fan, think–teeny weeny wedding crashers go to the Museum of Natural History. Quirky, funny, surprisingly and refreshingly void of potty-mouth language and gratuitous sex scenes (considering Mickey Rooney and Dick Van Dyke are in there, that’s a relief.)

One of the previews (for another one of those Somebody Almighty movies where Morgan Freeman is God again or should that be still?) reminded me of a fascinating, incredibly entertaining book by David Maine, The Preservationist, that I’d read—strangely enough not long before Hurricane Katrina appeared on our doorstop (and rooftop, and and and and).

I’ll spare you the rifts of jealousy (okay, envious admiration) I experienced realizing that this exceptionally presented tale is Maine’s first published novel. What turns the story inside out is that he presents Noe (what he calls Noah) as a real man who struggled with wife and sons and a world full of rather creepy people. You know how real a story he’s telling when you read passages of Noe’s sons and daughters-in-law slipping in ankle-deep poop and trying to dispose of it at every opportunity. Where Maine grabbed me as a writer was his decision to shift points of view, telling the story in the voices of Noe, his wife, sons, and daughters-in-law. A great read.

End of the year Bible devotion time always means Revelation; unfortunately, not necessarily as in “I had a —-” but as in the book of the Bible. End of year, end times, okay, I get the connection. But could one devotional writer just stir things up a bit and end the year with Genesis?

And another thing….could someone publish a Bible where all the books are in alpha order? It sure would go a long way for those of us who are new to church and using a Bible for devotion for the first time and not as a coffee table book/paperweight.

“Hey, Frank, look we have a new member in the congregation!”

“Gee, Ethel, how did ya know?”

“Well, she’s flipping those Bible pages so fast trying to find where we are, her hair’s flying off her scalp.”

“Ethel, go tell her the book of Hebrews is not in the Old Testament.”

But, before I go, here is my favorite passage from this morning:

“For the Lamb on the throne will be their Shepherd. He will lead them to springs of life-giving water. And God will wipe every tear from their eye.” Revelation 7:17b (NLT)

Yea, God!

Gerald Ford has now joined James Brown, the Godfather of Soul, and the heavenly hosts singing “I Feel Good” in the presence of God. Getting funky with the Lord. How good can it get?

The following provided from MSN news: “Actress Angelina Jolie spent Christmas Day with refugees in Costa Rica as part of her work as a goodwill ambassador for the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, the agency said.”

Okay, so who is the UN Low Commissioner for Refugees, and where did that ambassador spend the holidays? And was Brad Jolie Pitt babysitting while Angie was away?

Other interesting tidbits gleaned from today’s MSN: What to do when faced with awkward dating situations for people of different faiths

and

if you think your closet is stuffed with frumpy clothes.

My post-Emma gift is waning. Slowly. If there is a road to recovery, I’m on the feeder lane. Coffee definitely should NOT have been my beverage of choice this morning.

A round of applause for my writer friend Jess who just received a letter that’s going to push her back to the keyboard and a typing frenzy. I’ll be sure to interview her on my blog when she gets her contract! Go, Write, Finish!!!! Our prayers are with ya, honey. No more Internet cruises for you, chick!

Today I PROMISED myself that I would devote time to grading papers, recording grades for papers, writing mid-term reviews, writing mid-term exams. Oh, and then there’s that pesky haven’t written ONE WORD yet for National Boards.

My daughter Erin just emailed me (so I check my email compulsively….how many addictions do I have to give up in a lifetime???) a list for my website. I felt rather self-obsessed writing my own “About Me” for my website (that Sam has been gently urging me to get on with it already), so I volunteered Erin to do it for me. And, oh my. Am I that transparent??? No. I think it’s just that, next to Ken, she knows me—faults and fantasies–and loves me. The relationship we share did not come easily. Perhaps that’s why we value it so much. But, that’s a story for another day.

I’m entertaining the notion of publishing an anthology of sorts of my non-fiction musings, ranblings, anecdotes. If it does comes to pass, I’ll post information here. Pre-orders always welcomed.

Time to drag Pandora’s briefcase (okay you APers, recognize that allusion for your exam) out of my car. Stand back.

Christmas Eve Eve.

Okay, everyone think of a favorite Christmas memory. Go write it down. Now. Yes, now or you will forget it. Write it on paper, not on your hand or the unpaid bill lurking near the keyboard. Write every detail you can remember, every smell–even it’s the clashing of gumbo on the stove and pine-scented candles burning on the kitchen table, every touch of someone’s hand on your shoulder, every tinkling bell. I’ll wait for you to return.

Christmas, 1999. The picture I have of the evening is one of my most cherished ones. That was the year of the “Charlie Brown” tree that John, who was fourteen at the time, and I had chopped down on our land. We lived on eight acres, seven of which were overgrown with towering pines and scrawny bushes and assorted wildness. I think we found a pine tree wannabe. We dragged it into the house, creating a trailing mess of needles, bark, and oozing sap. I loved every pain of it. And I think it loved it as well. After we decorated, I think I even saw it smile.

We’re all in front of the fireplace, except for Michael, my oldest. He was in the Navy and stationed in Italy. Ken, me, John, Shannon, Erin pregnant with Bailey, Andrae, John my brother, his partner Rick, Sarah. My Jewish husband, my African-American son-in-law, my gay brother, my daughter with Down Syndrome. We look like a politically correct Christmas card.

We are happy. And that was everything.