XMAS Letter 2022

Welcome. If you know the drill read on if you wish. 

20, 22, 24, 26, 28 to infinity, or maybe 2 x infinity? Nope. Nobody can count that high, not ever. He or she would kick the bucket first.

We near the end of 2022, so it’s time for a letter. Richard recently heard Shiloh explaining to Harper that it would take more than a lifetime to count to 1 billion. So that’s how we start this year. Note that when I wrote the original version of the letter, I forgot to mention that Shiloh went to visit Hattori Hanzo’s Scottish (?) cousin just outside of Paris. I’m sure you would have been sad not to know that. He returned home without the implement, so perhaps it was just a good story? Read on at your own risk, this might be a waste of time.

It started as the previous period ended, the water was indeed not fuliginous, which was good. No need to file a false advertising claim. It was warm enough, the air was not too hot, but then consider the month(s) of the year. The sand was fine and dandy, the beds, the walls, and the floors, to say nothing of the ceiling and other parts were nearby and adequate if not exactly spry. Who can argue with saltwater in the back yard and down the street? The sun was too bright to stare at, that is, until the things became beclouded one post meridian. Were we about to become haboobed? It was odd, and a bit unnerving for a moment, but all we got was befogged for a wee bit. But then we weren’t in Sudan, so what would one expect. Then the games could resume, as could the fireworks. We saw no reptiles, but one very large cephalopod mollusk with apparently eight not so muscular arms as would befit its genus, wafted in the breeze. Not all boys like to look into the sun.

At the end of 2021 and the beginning of 2022 we spent time together as a family on a beach in a southern state. But it might as well be in the northeast given all the Yankees fans. Great fun sitting in the sand, walking along the shore, wondering if Tom Brady would show, cooking dinner and playing games at night; all in a quaint medium sized house just off the beach with a casita and an enclosed pool. We hope it wasn’t destroyed in the latest hurricanes. We think not. Walking (or driving) south toward the more commercially developed part of the shore, one could see large kites, some in the form of large octopi or maybe they were actually heptapods – you know, Abbott and Costello. That’s where we took the family photo enclosed in our card. It was hard to get everyone to look at the camera in the sunny midday, as usual. But then we had a strange metrological event in which a large bank of low hanging clouds blew in mysteriously. It approached slowly and made us wonder if we would see the other side. I guess if you’ve been to the movies, you know what I mean. On the fun scale, the week earned a 10. The only mild disappointment was that Richard’s favorite airline abandoned us mid return home. Thinking quickly, Shiloh acquired the last Hertz vehicle that would fit us all and drove us from NC to DC in style. Good thinking.

Most of the year, Rochelle didn’t need to lock the door, and she had plenty of opportunity to state her point of view. Richard never once stayed out until 2.45. She did mostly feed him, send valentine, birthday greeting, bottle of sparking grape juice. We didn’t go to the Isle of Man, or Woman, but somewhere else. We don’t have Vera, or Chuck for that matter. Hey, we don’t even have Dave! What a shame. I guess it’s OK that the song came to an end. And we did not go to Croatia, despite what some say.

Late in 2021 (we forgot to write about it last year) Richard started singing a particular song he first learned from Sargent Pepper’s. He continued the practice into 2022. After 63 full years, it was finally his time; this past November, his time had passed so no more mending a fuse or Sunday morning rides. Too bad, so sad. The grandkids got a kick out of it and could be found once or thrice singing it when he wasn’t around; they’ll have to find something else of his to imitate. Ketchup sandwiches anyone? Maybe V-8 with noodles? What an honor. The most inventive cook award goes to the guy who as a young man artfully combined Franco American Spaghetti with canned peas and still aspires to make Bologna soup. Yum! So Rachel and Shiloh went to Croatia for fun. At least one of the grandparents had a thought or two about what would happen if Vladimir decided it was time to recreate Yugoland. Or something like that. We went, instead to Richard’s favorite island again, more about that.

Teaching a then three-year-old to sew is easier than teaching him to ski, but by the time he’s 7, as was his brother, he doesn’t have an older sister unless you count Addicus’ one time friend. But he’s a much better skier. The older one was also quite interested in the seaming and stitching. It was his quilt, of course. One gets such things at age 8 in our family’s world, mostly courtesy of Grandma Shell. It was his turn, and he took it proudly, even if his house (or mine) doesn’t have an elevator. Why don’t the parents still work in San Francisco? Is there a pattern to this?

Rochelle made the traditional baptism quilt for Arrin’s son Jonah, and let him help her finish the job using the sewing machine while on a visit to Arrin’s house in Utah. Then he qualified officially for the gift being baptized at age 8. He cruises through school like a champ. Lucas (then age 3) also enjoyed learning to use the sewing machine and making some of us nervous that he might end up with stiches where they probably don’t belong – at least not medically placed. Richard and Rochelle momentarily considered buying a house in Utah with a swimming pool inside and an elevator. The grandboys were quite impressed with the elevator. We could have made them proud! But alas, we remain in Virginia in a house with too small a garage to impress the Utah boys. Oh well. Maybe someday we’ll do something to impress them. : ) Marcus still works his same old California job and is healthy and strong as ever! Arrin moved to a new Utah based job so she is close to the office, but ironically, farther than previously because the SF job office was at home. She’s working hard and will, in addition, finish the MBA program in a few months. Ask her about all that stuff.

Is Covid over? How many shots did we get! 8? And despite the WSJ, we never got it. Hermitage has its upside, although we are catching up with Carmen somewhere in the world to round out the year. But I get ahead of myself. Covid was such a pain we had to postpone many things. Walk too far to lose your cellphone along the hike. Good thing there is Find My things. And good that one can walk that far and back again without encountering an Ent, or Gandalf, or even better, Frodo and friends.

Oh yeah, Covid. We’ve been poked 4 times each – remember Richard used to work for Pfizer, so let’s help keep the stock price going in the right direction ; ). Rochelle has had a few episodes of light respiratory discomfort but has never tested positive for the condition. Richard hasn’t had even a slight sniffle since late 2019. Where’s that wood to knock on? If you read the WSJ, perhaps you understand. Working at home, has been, and remains great. We will be making my first appearance in the intense homeland this coming weekend. Let’s hope we survive. We had planned two separate trips to St. Martin that we had to cancel because of Covid and the fear of not being able to make it back into the country for important work commitments. Fortunately, everyone was happy to give us our money back. We finally made the trip in late winter. It was great as usual. Richard did lose his phone on a hike around a remote part of the island and miraculously, Find My Friends came through and we were able to find it on the hiking trail quite a ways back. Fortunately, no one else was on the trail so the phone waited patiently for us. Now isn’t that more than you want to know? Yeah, it is. Oh, and Rochelle and three friends went to London on a lark and happened to arrive just after the Queen passed away.  

If time permits, move some of the fam to Virginia and take so many photos that you have a lot of them. Will they stay there, or here, or everywhere? Will we? Did he really go to Brasil for work? Dr. Seuss could have written about that. No matter where you go, you know. He perhaps could also have helped with the volleyball team, the wrestling team, the soccer team, the basketball team, but not the baseball team. But there is always not rugby, but that other English thing – cricket! The wicket can be quite sticky you know. Ninety percent of the neighborhood is doing Halloween just because it’s the thing to do! But they seem to enjoy it.

We may have mentioned last year that Rachel’s family had moved from Montana to VA for a temporary work assignment for Shiloh. Well, one thing led to another and Shiloh changed jobs after a good career at the FBI. He now does cybersecurity of a perhaps somewhat similar type for a very large company that isn’t located in Brasil – at least not headquartered. Ask Rachel and him about that. From the grandparents’ perspective, it seems like a tremendous opportunity so we’re happy for them. However, this has left them, and Rachel in particular, with a conundrum. If you can choose where to live, you actually have to decide what to do. Decision/choice fatigue seems to be real. Ask her about that and everything else, including the most recent addition to teenageness. Harper is a great young woman, skilled at various endeavors scholastic and athletic. Sam, likewise, is multi-talented, acing school, playing basketball and picking up cricket from the neighbor kids, a very large proportion of which are of families from India. I’m told that Rachel’s neighborhood is known to many Indian ex-pats as one of the places to be. It was fun to follow the kids through trick-or-treating in their neighborhood with so many folks who were undertaking a tradition that was “foreign” to them but obviously enjoyed. Gus is a monster at math as a first grader – solving algebra-like word problems in his head, being a great reader and computer master, of which he is most supremely proud. Coen is also thriving as a kindergartener, high energy soccer player (with Gus) and great wrestle-fest participant with Pop and the other boys. Did someone say Harper also wrestles? And plays volleyball?   

If we had stayed in NYC, perhaps WE could be Kind all the time and get paid for it. But maybe we’re just Boomers and don’t have what it takes to be that kind of Kind. Good thing someone else does. He didn’t calculate TV ratings anyway so it was a good time to be Kind. Does anyone watch regular TV anymore, besides those of us about whom Paul and John sang? The flight is short, but sometimes bumpy. But then, on a calm, clear night in a nearly empty plane, wistful feelings of schmaltz can set in. And I think it’s going to be a long, long time, or maybe a long, winding road. Does anyone ever win with largest army?

Well, there’s Ben, living, still in the Big Apple, but now working there too, post Covid. You probably know that he had been doing marketing consulting for the Nielson Company since finishing college, but working out of the NJ office while living in Manhattan. Covid made that convenient because he didn’t have to go to the office very often. Not too long ago, however, he changed jobs and now works for a big snack company with a very friendly name, with an actual office – on Times Square. Fun for him we think, but ask him, of course. OK, time to be done, but we should say that we play Catan regularly. Perhaps too regularly for the taste of some. Flying to NYC is still fun, even though some of us don’t do it very often.

So enough of that.

We wish a very merry Christmas to everyone. Of course, not everyone shares our faith, but we hope that you find joy and peace in this season, no matter your tradition, no matter your celebration. We believe in Christ, we love celebrating the birth and life of this little babe, the Holy Child, the Prince of Peace. He brings hope and comfort to our lives in this season and always as we allow Him to.

With love and good cheer,

Richard and Rochelle