The 2017 Christmas memo
Ed. note: This is the Christmas memo going out in my Christmas cards this year. If you're not on my IRL friends list -- or even if you are -- please accept my Merriest Christmakwanzukkah holiday greetings, and enjoy my year in review.
I hope that 2017 found you well and leaves you in the same condition.
The start of 2017 found Dad in the hospital. Two days before Christmas, as he was finishing up rerouting the washer-and-dryer exhaust to its new upstairs location, he became exhausted (pardon the pun) and fell off the ladder to the ground. He broke a shoulder and a wrist, and is slowly healing up. In a twist of fate, Mom’s grand-nephew did the same thing at work in October, but instead tried landing on his feet, leading to broken ankles and a compression fracture in his back. He’s healing as well.
Being the devoted son that I am, I promptly took off to Mexico City for a week’s vacation in mid-January. Despite my Sesame Street-level knowledge of Spanish, I managed to negotiate the tenth-largest city in the world with little problem. (Don’t ask about the suntan lotion.)
Fortunately, Chad and I avoided being victims of gravity. No falling off ladders (see above) or baseballs landing in the car (see 2016). Instead, the only major change on the home front occurred just a couple weeks ago, as we finally got rid of the tree in our back yard. Don’t ask me what kind of tree it was. I just know that the roots were approaching both the sidewalk and the house, and in any battle against roots, the roots will always win.
This year’s baseball trips subjected us to all kinds of unusual phenomena. Opening night in Dayton found us huddled under ponchos, unsuccessfully fending off howling winds and freezing rain until the game was mercifully called off. In late May, we found ourselves at games with inflatable legends of country music and the minions from Despicable Me. And at a mid-August afternoon game in Columbia, Chad and I were there when the sun refused to shine - if only for a couple minutes.
Professionally, we’re still plugging away at our opposite ends of the non-profit spectrum: me at the DMV, Chad in his charity corner. Dad is still at it, albeit on ground level for now.
Be careful, and remember - no tweeting for 30 minutes after swimming.
South of the Border: January 17-21
On the trail of the Kings: May 28-June 2
Total eclipse of the park: August 19-25
I hope that 2017 found you well and leaves you in the same condition.
The start of 2017 found Dad in the hospital. Two days before Christmas, as he was finishing up rerouting the washer-and-dryer exhaust to its new upstairs location, he became exhausted (pardon the pun) and fell off the ladder to the ground. He broke a shoulder and a wrist, and is slowly healing up. In a twist of fate, Mom’s grand-nephew did the same thing at work in October, but instead tried landing on his feet, leading to broken ankles and a compression fracture in his back. He’s healing as well.
Being the devoted son that I am, I promptly took off to Mexico City for a week’s vacation in mid-January. Despite my Sesame Street-level knowledge of Spanish, I managed to negotiate the tenth-largest city in the world with little problem. (Don’t ask about the suntan lotion.)
Fortunately, Chad and I avoided being victims of gravity. No falling off ladders (see above) or baseballs landing in the car (see 2016). Instead, the only major change on the home front occurred just a couple weeks ago, as we finally got rid of the tree in our back yard. Don’t ask me what kind of tree it was. I just know that the roots were approaching both the sidewalk and the house, and in any battle against roots, the roots will always win.
This year’s baseball trips subjected us to all kinds of unusual phenomena. Opening night in Dayton found us huddled under ponchos, unsuccessfully fending off howling winds and freezing rain until the game was mercifully called off. In late May, we found ourselves at games with inflatable legends of country music and the minions from Despicable Me. And at a mid-August afternoon game in Columbia, Chad and I were there when the sun refused to shine - if only for a couple minutes.
Professionally, we’re still plugging away at our opposite ends of the non-profit spectrum: me at the DMV, Chad in his charity corner. Dad is still at it, albeit on ground level for now.
Be careful, and remember - no tweeting for 30 minutes after swimming.
South of the Border: January 17-21
On the trail of the Kings: May 28-June 2
Total eclipse of the park: August 19-25