Since the dramatic vomiting incident, Christopher has been waking up every night sometime before midnight because he needs to sit on the toilet, and then he needs me to cuddle him back to sleep, which has put something of a damper on my late-night writing sessions. Tonight he woke up but managed to get himself back to sleep, so that's progress.
On Sunday they had the confirmation service at church. To...celebrate?...they had suspended a big fishing net to one side of the altar, in which hung plaster casts of the confirmation candidates' hands. This was supposed to be a symbol of how we're all "safe in the hands of God." ?? I know, fishers of men and all that, but somehow being caught in a fishing net doesn't seem like the right metaphor for safety and security? Though maybe it's a perfectly good one for the Church?
The bishop's-delegate they dug up to administer the sacrament talked in his homily about how the assembled young adults could choose between (1) starting a family and (2) dedicating their lives to the Church "to show that God alone is enough." Those are, apparently, the only options. Later he described the trinity as the creator God (male), the incarnate God (male) and the helper God (female). Ugh.
I fantasized about retrieving my daughter from the row of altar servers, telling our poor brainwashed priest that God alone is NOT enough and he should really find someone to sleep with, and leaving the church for good. I didn't, of course. But it's clearly past time for me to find a faith community that lives in the 21st century.
My favorite uncle visited us for the weekend, so after we got back from church and I finished beating my head against a wall we took him up a mountain. Because you can do that here! Without even hiking! It was, as usual, stunning.
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| Going up. |
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| Alps, check. |
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| Just so pretty. |
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| ...and going down. Those are the Mythen again. The Stoosbahn, incidentally, is pure engineering craziness. |
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