Low Sunday. Yesterday a mystery was solved. I visited a friend, an avid English football fan like so many here, and asked why such interest. I didn't mean the sport per se but Icelanders following the sport. He came up with a practical answer: Iceland didn't receive television since 1967, incredible as that may seem. Even then for many years there was one state-run channel on between 8-10.30pm with no broadcasting on Thursday evenings plus none during the month of July. English football was among the first broadcasts to be shown, chiefly because of English NATO forces stationed in Keflavik. So that's the humble yet practical beginning of a tradition that has caught on here like wildfire.

Recently I picked up for a re-read Icarus Fallen by Chantal Delsol. She takes up the theme of Icarus who soared too close to the sun and fell into the sea where he died. Delsol alters the myth by having Icarus live and finding himself back in familiar territory from which he wanted to escape so desperately. In other words, this is the predicament we're in nowadays. It's not unlike the prodigal son (as she admits) yet takes up this myth over the parable to avoid overtly religious symbols, etc. If she had gone that route, she would have turned off most of her audience. Still, the religious overtones run deep in Icarus Fallen, so looking forward to a re-visit.

"I have decided." I continue listening to what I call AA Radio each morning or broadcasts of American speakers from Alcoholics Anonymous. These simple words are the very starting point of recovery, situated as they are in the context of relying upon a "higher power."