XMAS 2020. Did you know that the Greek letter X is the first letter in the Greek word for Christ? At least that's what I'm told.

If you are here, you must have received the card/letter, and you know the drill. If you just happened upon this Blog, sorry. You'll have to figure it out for yourself.

Well, hindsight is behind you, almost anyway. Soon enough Mr. Floyd and Dr. Joe with the needle. And isn’t that good? You do know he doesn’t work there anymore, right? What will it be next year? When you start counting, how do you know when to stop? How confusing it will be!?! How many Gs will there be anyway? Will Bill Gates be counting? Will anyone fly or flu?

You know what they say about hindsight, it's 2020, and it's almost over, thank goodness. Richard and the rest of us are looking forward to Pfizer (his former employer) and the rest getting approval for the C-19 vaccine. That will be great! Perhaps inappropriately, he still feels some sense of pride that the company has worked so well and quickly to get to this point. Next year will be 2021, you know, Richard wonders how many of us will forget what we are doing and just say, "20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25" before someone stops us and accuses us of being senile. Let's leave politics out of this.

Some of us still like the bugs, broken up as they have been for eons. Will she send me a valentine, a birthday greeting, grape juice, leave the door open, knead and feed me when we start counting? There is always Lovely Rita after the song is done; please don’t give me a parking ticket, but get the band back together, even if only virtually. It was a long and winding road that led to the huge tree stump. At least that’s what it looked like. Unfortunately for Dr. Joe, at least, there wasn’t a close encounter of the first, second or any other kind. There’s that counting theme again. But at least they didn’t steal his brain. That didn’t matter to Rochelle. Monotonicity is over-rated; much happened before that, except it didn’t seem like it because it all happened at the home office, or from the Montana basement and the Highland bedroom. Or at least most of it. Even though it wasn’t by the bugs, Richard really never thought he’d live to be a million, and soon it will be four of them in just one year. That’s almost to Hudson Bay or San Diego? How’s that for climate change? Yes, indeed. Doc Martin is a fine fellow. So is his nameplace. Great sun, great hiking, paddling. Is the iguana really blue? If your tree gives you lemons, poison it. If you go head to toe in tennis ball yellow, maybe it will learn a lesson.

The Beatles broke up, if you haven't heard, but their songs are still pretty good - many of them anyway - and some have a touch of prophecy in them. Richard turned 63 the other day and is wondering whether in the coming year, what it will be like to be 64. If you owned the Sargent Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album (what's an album?) you will get it. Lovely Rita followed after the referenced song. Richard actually performed live (with others) singing a moderated Christmas Carol at his firm's holiday party this past year. It was more fun than he expected, and they are threatening to do a digital reprise. Who knows how that will go. Because of Covid, Richard and Rochelle drove out west and spent about 6 weeks in the homes of grandchildren, with Rochelle doing Cousin Camp for part of the time. Now that's out of order, as is much of this, but as I said, monotonicity is over-rated especially with regards to time. So there. Along the way, they stopped at Devil's Tower in Wyoming. It was awe inspriring, even without the UFOs. I hope you are a Richard Dryefus movie fan. Along the way, after a long day of driving, Richard experienced a dizzy spell and an atypical migraine that interrupted his vision for a while. Rather than drive partially blind, he decided to pull over and let Rochelle drive. But he survived, and had an MRI to make sure nothing was really wrong (it wasn't) so he is now confident his brain is still in good order. You know, the Moody Blues had a song, "I Never Thought I'd Live to Be a Million." Richard has always thought the song was interesting, if not very melodic. When Covid shut down his office and eliminated his commute, he set a goal to walk 3,650,000 steps during 2020. He was so productive working from home and away, that he has exceeded his goal. He will have walked more than 4 million steps before the end of the year. That's about 2,000 miles, which is about how far it is to San Diego and Hudson Bay from his home. Fortunately, before the Covid outbreak, we managed to spend a week on St. Martin and had a smash of a time hiking, swimming, kayaking and doing other fun things. We even chased a huge iquana on a deserted island off the coast of the main island. Fun and games. Finally, Richard tried to grow a lemon tree this year, or maybe he tried not to grow it. After a first successful season, with 2 small lemons that never turned their appropriate color (they stayed green, but were sweeter than most lemons), he overfertilized the tree and pretty much killed it. He is trying to nurse it back to health, but it's struggling. As he walked this year, he donned neon green/yellow clothes much of the time, and for Halloween, he bought a head to toe neon suit. That's what he did during Covid 2020. 

Rochelle has always been musically inclined, but not really on a rocket-ship until this year. Now it’s almost every day, going really fast, but not very high. How many cousins at the fire? Or was there a fire? Probably just kick-the-can sorvete, row row row, stroke stroke stroke. There’s nothing you can swing that can’t be swung. Love is all you need. She thought she would like Tahiti or Greece for 39, but given the circumstance, Paris had to do. But she, with Richard, walked _every_ street in the town. She won’t make the four million, but farther than counting backward. Sew, sew, so, so much, kindness for dear friends. Along with the thread, she used plenty of graphite seeking perfection on parchment, in what style? Paris is in the country, so why not that? Will it be built in the middle of the way? If so, on which side of the corner? How will she see the princess? How will she avoid sunburn? Will the kids drive over the river and through the woods, or just over the mountain?

Maybe I should have more to say about Rochelle, but since she doesn't like to write this (or even read it I think) I guess she gets what I offer. She has taken on the role of being a Zoom teacher for some of her grandkids. Especially the Allen younger ones (Gus age 5 and Coen age 3). They have learned a lot from her and have had fun doing it. And Rochelle has fun too. As mentioned above, while we were in Montana during the summer, Arrin's family came up from California (en route to Utah) and Rochelle did a Cousin Camp. Lots of activities - going to the lake, going hiking, playing funny games of skill and daring, cooking noodles over a campfire, spinning until they were dizzy, melting flavored ice, making ice cream in a can, and many other things. We had ideas of doing a really nice anniversary trip, but then there was Covid. So we found Paris, Virginia, on the map and drove there. It's a pretty small town, so in about 30 minutes, we managed to walk up and down every street in town. That didn't contribute toward the 4 million very much, but then that's not Rochelle's goal, so no problem. She also put together two large and very beautiful quilts for two of her close friends, with the help of other friends, and she put together a Christmas pillow gift as a craft experience for some of the women in our church community, and friends. That was a Zoom thing too. "Zoom a little Zoom on a Rocket Ship, off we go on a trip..." One of her favorite songs. We also finally decided to buy a building lot in a development we've had our eye on in Midway Utah for several years. That process put her to work drafting preliminary building plans to figure out if we really wanted that lot and if we would like the hose we could build there. We think so, but we'll see. Able was I ere I saw Elba. Do you know that that means?

Among the youngsters, the least got out of town and worked from a sewing room. The toil was remote and dinner was good and fun, but even the most excellent company diminishes in appeal over time, so back to the town it was and work from the wide street, or near it anyway, way up north. For a while, the work was four of five, which seemed fine, especially when the Big Uncle and the Novel Shirt chipped in. Things are back to normal now, or even better.

Ben moved down from NYC early in the Covid days and worked from our house. That was dandy. He occupied what has become Rochelle's sewing room. There was a stretch when his firm asked employees to go to 4 days a week, which was OK for lots of reasons, including the State of New Jersey providing unemployment benefits for the time off - maybe supplemented by the Federal Govt? I don't know. But dandy, as I said. That didn't last, and neither did his stay with us. We eventually became less entertaining than we initially were, and things seemed to calm down Covid-wise in NYC, so he went back home to north Harlem working full time again from his appartment. (The blog editor doesn't have spell check you know.) 

Speaking of new normal, the next up the rank left the cove and decamped to princeps terram with a lengthy camping trip in between. Why not move there? Sell that casa, buy this one, or that one. Paint it, pick tomatoes, blackberries, cantaloupe, and squash, make salsa, send 2/3 of the boys to school, put the other in the office. Order stuff, draft the family paint and tiling crews. Have them and some other folks make lots of noise and build more stuff. Bounce some, run some, roll some more, even the pretend way, find some lost teeth under a pillow.

One day in the late spring, Arrin called and said they were thinking of moving to Utah. What? Utah? You work in San Francisco, we said. Right, she said. But we are working from home anyway so we are going to clear it with our employers and think about it, but it looks like Utah is in the future. So they did. Highland is where they landed. We are still amazed at it all, but that's how Millenials do things. We older types have a hard time keeping up. They bought a house with a great garden already in production phase when they got there so it was harvest time from day one. Jonah and Lucas have been able to attend school and make new friends, and life is much better. Though when they arrived in Utah (in July) Jonah (age 5) said, "where's the snow?" I guess the only times they had come to Utah before (at least that he remembered), it had been winter. Funny. There are lots of good things to do in the new house, even lose teeth.

The most numerous are also the farthest from McMurdo, but which place has the better weather? Hard to say, I suppose. Maybe one should write it on the sidewalk. That’s were camp was. A virtual viola concert is good in the situation. And a ride in the rocket ship with Grandma Shell is good most days for at least two passengers helps. Legomania rules for one, but school calls too. It is in the Mountains, after all. What’s the news? What’s the right thing to say? How to say it? How do you paint a horse? Is it named Old Paint? How about a cow, or a flower? With water?

Rachel and fam still live in the Montana tundra, though in the summer it was quite nice for Cousin Camp, etc. It was a nice place for Richard to expand his step count, and a great place to play around, draw with chalk on the sidewalk, hear Harper play the viola, help or mostly just watch Sam build Lego things and ask Gus and Coen crazy questions. They all like riding horses, one in particular, at the Allen Grandparent's business establishment that was on its last leg. And Rachel spends lots of time and effort writing thougtful essays on matters of faith and current events for the local newspaper, and teaching watercolor painting at a community thing. She's very popular. She should be. They also do karate and other skills. Don't hurt your knees or back. Monotonicity? Who cares about that.

Richard and Rochelle wish you love, peace, and joy this season and always.

True, that.

Xmas 2019/Easter 2020

Following custom, below is the actual letter we sent out, followed, in bright pink type, by a rough translation.

Look at your calendar. Is it December? No. Is it November? No. Unless, unknown to most of us, we adopted the Permanent Calendar some time ago, Easter is on the horizon. So why an Easter card and letter? It’s simple, demand creates its own supply, to turn a Keynesian phrase on its head. We found ourselves at the end of 2019 pondering the future and the end of the second decade of the third millennium of the Current Era. What do we do, thought we? Many folks are thinking we are at the end of the decade, when in fact, we are still one year away from it. That is, unless, unknown to us, the Gregorians started with year zero, which we doubt – although they did chant nicely. We think they started with year 1, which means the first decade ended with the year 10. How do you count to 10? Do you have a “zeroth” finger? I don’t. I don’t count my fingers (or toes) from zero to 9. I count from 1 to 10. You probably do too. But then, how many ears do you have? How many nostrils? How many eyes? How many feet, hands, legs, arms? Isn’t it remarkable that we don’t use a binary counting system? Perhaps if we did, we’d all be named HAL.

The simple fact is that we didn’t get a Christmas letter done in time, so we thought about just bagging the idea.

So given all those deeply important questions, you can imagine our confusion at the end of the year, and hence our inability to get a Christmas card out in a timely way. Rochelle had planned to just skip the year, and Richard was OK with that, except the laws of economics intervened. We received 842 Christmas/Holiday cards from others – they remain taped to the walls of our home (and you thought wallpaper had gone out of style). Having sent none out, we began to get questions from friends and family. A few examples from the 666 requests/questions we received: Don’t we count anymore? Don’t you love us? Did you get abducted by aliens? Where is that letter? We want that letter! One particularly persuasive note said, “Send us the letter! We’ll pay you $3,547,192 if you send us a card and letter.” Well, as I said, demand creates supply, and how could we refuse? I’m awaiting payment – you know who you are! The Easter card is just window dressing, cute though we are, if we must say so ourselves. By the way, if you didn’t really want this letter, there is relatively inexpensive disposal available, probably courtesy of your local garbage collector or recycling center if they take cards and letter such as this one. You can also probably put this back in an envelope and write “wrong address” on the envelope and the USPS may return it to us, in which case we may take you off our distribution list, but not if you offer to pay us seven figures.

But then we actually did start getting questions, such as, “What possessed you to save us all the agony this year?” and comments, “Thank you, thank you, for not cluttering our house and minds with your letter." Well, we could not let a challenge like that go unanswered, so here it is. A letter fitting for a holiday. So what if it’s not Xmas. Easter is the bookend holiday, so here’s a card for the other end. Oh, we actually do still have a few Christmas cards taped to our walls, one or two.

So for the update, Rochelle and Richard kept doing the things they typically do. Richard gave 5,347 high fives to strangers in SLC, SXM, SAN, LAX, OAK, BZN, DCA, IAD, JFK, PIH, CDG, ZRH, NAH, Vista and probably more places we didn’t notice. SXM was the most fun, followed closely by Vista. But then there were the slides – they were fun too, and lots of high fives there for sure. Work is work, fun is fun, sometimes both are in play. We live in the same house on the same street in the same town in the same Commonwealth. We go to the same church, the same movies, the same grocery store. We eat pretty much the same food and wear the same clothes and sing the same songs but we occasionally read a new book. So much for that. Richard still loves a parade, the wovely Bwoon Hiwda, lime in a coconut, and Mayo in mambo dog patch banana fact? Kill the wabbits and take care of your chicken.  In Kiev, remember to say thank you rather than please at the end of your speech and if someone asks you to invest in an oil well, say, “What bucket list?”

We had a lot of fun in 2019 and whatever parts of other years I manage to cover here. Richard continued to work most of the time. When not, we traveled a fair amount, and mostly because the grandchildren accompanying him thought it was strange, Richard started giving high 5’s to strangers in airports, amusement parks, on the street, wherever. One of his favorite targets was women of considerable age – even more considerable than his – (and always with Rochelle walking with him of course). It often made them smile that someone would pay attention to them. That is, those in the US or other places that understood it wasn’t a threat. There were a few older women in Germany and Switzerland, and maybe other places, usually walking with a friend or perhaps a daughter (so it appeared), that turned up their noses at Richard’s eager greeting. Most folks, however, after getting the high 5, giggled, smiled and looked around as if to find a hidden camera. He also high 5’s a fair number of teenagers and younger children. You should try it sometime. Work took Richard to Ukraine and upon being invited, Rochelle looked up what is to be seen there and upon finding that Chernobyl is the main attraction, took a pass. Too bad, it was a great country. We went to an Irma-recovering island and had a lot of fun. Still lots of destruction, but not crowded and beautiful, so some of the greatest hiking on the planet, cool sea kayaking, etc. Rochelle was nearly eaten by an iguana; or maybe 3. We spent Xmas week with the family in Southern California, also lots of fun. We went to and fro, visited theme parks and played Settlers muito muito. While there, Richard taught the grandchildren the wonders of opera, Buggs Bunny-style, plus a few other important realities of the Manning culture, as interpreted by him. Rochelle tried to keep things normal. Good luck with that. We did get a phamily photo in, which you can see on the card if you look very carefully. Oh, funny thing, Richard got a cold call from some guy drilling an oil well in Texas. The guy actually thought it would be a good idea for Richard to send him money so he could drill a hole in the ground. What, says Richard? You nuts? Yup, said the guy. OK, bye, said Rich. Funny things people think. You know, we tried to find Richard Nixon’s house on New Years Day. All things considered, we had so much fun that our bucket lists are empty now.

Rachel and family are also doing much the same, except different. Harper kicks and chops, bows and flexes and gets cold on one side of her head. Rachel talks to lots of folks in both formal and informal capacities and puts color on paper with water, and makes dinner and sandwiches. If you want to know what kind, you’ll need to ask her. Shiloh does in the badduns both virtually and otherwise, especially when his bro Jesse is making and executing the plan. When will they move to Mars? Their long-time friend and companion moved on. Sam is a star. He reads and does calculus like an 15 year old. Gus is actually Magnus, but don’t tell him Rochelle isn’t teaching school today. Coen is the youngest, and probably the most eponymous. If you got their Xmas card, you’ll know, if you don’t, you won’t. There’s mud on those hills, and obstacles as well. Cold water anyone?

By now, everything in Montana is known to everyone that wants to know. Except, Rachel and Shiloh still live there. We were going to go see them, but C-19 said no. So we haven’t gone yet this year, but we went plenty in 2019. Rochelle did the customary Grandma trips and Richard joined for part of the time. They still do what they do. The oldest is 10, the youngest is 3. Then there are the middles. If you know them, you probably know a lot. If you don’t, you may wonder, who is Coen? This doesn’t seem much like a Christmas letter. And that’s because it isn’t. Social distancing isn’t such a big deal in Montana. The sky is big enough for everyone to have a piece by him or herself. So all they had to do was cancel school and tell everyone to holler if they need anything.

Arrin and family grow and grow and paint faces. Lucas is the youngest of them all and Jonah likes school particularly well when Rochelle teaches, or when he and Rochelle team teach. Lucas does the pop thing on iPhone and has just enough teeth. And Marcus? Do you need a visa to visit that country? Go ahead and ask him. Do they grow bananas in Japan and the EU? How many do they sell? How many republics? Do you mind the gap? Bean and leaf still in LaBrea? Ask Arrin, or see their card if you get it. Too bad if you don’t. Do you put walnuts in your banana bread? Is Juno a planet? There isn’t a nearby beach unless you go to the bottom of the Baha. Take your kids and run. Or ride a bike. Breathe deeply. Go lots of places with the outlaws and friends.

Arrin and family remain over the hills to the east. It’s beautiful and good weather most of the time, but Walt was south with Mickey and Minnie so they brought them home for Xmas and otherwise. The boys love the mice and all things D. Rochelle goes there, so does Rich. They all have lots of fun, especially when Rochelle sleeps in Harry Potter’s place. The older is now old enough for school if they did that sort of thing these days. But they don’t. Maybe in June. The younger is learning a lot fast. He likes to call Pop on video so he can say “bye” and hang up. Arrin and Marcus are working from home and tag teaming the younger care. I’m sure that’s lots of fun, and exhausting. Arrin is still magaging stuff remotely in Japan and Europe as far as I recall, and Marcus is getting lots of stamps in his passport, I think. Maybe I don’t really know what he does…  

As I didn’t say, Ben is not in California, at least most of the time. I don’t think he sends out cards of any kind, so you just won’t know. He loves a parade, of course. But then he’s his dad’s kid; jokes and ice cream included. There is this thing called the vessel but it holds very little water. Then there is equal night, even more than two. How many cans of soup will you buy next year? What if it is called stew instead? What do a duck and a unicycle have in common? Where is Melba-Louise? Ask him, or send him a letter in Harlem with some new cookware.

And Ben. I once read that everyone should live in Manhattan for some years, but then leave because while you want the experience, you don’t want it to overwhelm you, or to change you permanently. I’m sure that wasn’t written by a real New Yorker – probably someone from Denver, or Chicago. Nevertheless, Ben has settled into Harlem, way north near Broadway. It’s pretty fun, actually, it seems. We went to the Macy’s Parade, standing in the cold for a while while Rich told jokes to the crowd around us. We saw the Alexander show with him, and The Vessel with him and saw some other “new” sights, such as a pizzeria. You know, they have just one special one for Ben. He works for the same company that rates things, and escaped NYC to northern VA to ride out the Corona. He works remotely as many of us do these days.  

Happy Easter, or springtime to you all. Maybe you’ll get a letter next Xmas. Supply and demand, you know.

That’s all folks!

Warmly,

Richard and Rochelle