Today is the Feast of Stephen, and one of our favorite days on the calendar. Christmas is still very much in evidence, but the pressure's off and we can relax. (The relaxing starts at our place some time later in the day on the 25th.) On Stephenmas, there are still some gifts lingering under the tree, but they're becoming familiar possessions already. They have found their new homes.

It's a day to catch one's bearings. At some point on a day like this, we find ourselves thinking, "O.k., so what day of the week is it? And where the heck are we?"

Christmas reminds us a little bit of the Olympics. All the pageantry and buildup, but then it's over quick. It's an amazing spectacle, and expensive, with a lot of high-quality talent, but the best athletes don't always compete well. They show off what they can do, they enjoy and appreciate the many talents of others, but there's an inordinate amount of pressure placed on doing things that, at root, are pretty ordinary. A few performers set personal bests, but many more don't.

Today's also the day on which we celebrate the story about the 10th Century duke of Bohemia who set out to feed a poor man who was struggling just to stay warm. The weather was bitter cold, but there was a fire in the duke that kept him on his mission. Until this morning, I hadn't sung that one all the way through in many years. It's probably a better way to spend time on a day like this than standing on the customer service line at a retail store: