Being ill at home has its advantages: more time to read and finish books. And the most recent one is “A man called Ove”, which looked at me with large puppy eyes and drew me to buy it . Ove, the very incarnation of curmudgeoness, and set on killing himself after the death of his wife, is saved by (in no particular order) a broken rope, the eye-contact of a stranger, a broken leg, a pregnant woman, a mangy cat, a three year old girl, a whole host of “white shirts”, a rediscovered friendship, and a gay couple.
And our O antiphon today is….
O Clavis David, et sceptrum domus…
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