The annual Christmas letter--abbreviated version!

2016

He
wrote a book.

She
enjoyed a myriad of organizations.

They
traveled.

You

Have Been

Are

and

Will Be

Loved!

May your hearts be merry and bright!

Merry Christmas

At no other time.

I sit in the basement because it is as close to sticking my head in the sand as I can get.  The ostrich syndrome has struck, with a vengeance.  I just finished listening to the weather.  Brrrrr.  Just Brrrrr.  But I’m a South Dakotan, born and raised, and a little cold weather will not defeat me.  A little snow will not defeat me.  I choose to live here and I enjoy it.  Where else is there as much grist for the complaining mill?  Not why I am in the basement.

Unfortunately, the 5:00 o’clock “local” news is followed by the 5:30 national news.  Russian interference in our electoral process.  Bombing of children in Aleppo.  Reminder of Sandy Hook.  Presidential cabinet appointments.  And I headed to the basement.  No television.  No radio.  No reminder of the evil that lives in the hearts of certain men and women. 

Alone with my computer, the dryer working to finish the laundry, the wonderful sound of the furnace warming the house, and the hum of the freezer (which has just called my name to consume a sour cream raisin bar), I find it possible to center.  Internally I rage at a foreign power affecting my very life.  I marvel at how travel to foreign shores has broadened my knowledge.  I cry for the lives of the innocent.  I thank God for the men and women who teach them.  I decry the violence that comes from guns.  Unfortunately, I “got nothin” to counter that.  I am frightened at the direction our country will turn if the president-elect gets the cabinet he wants.  I am thankful they must be approved. 

I do my best to surround myself with people brighter than I.  I do my best to surround myself with people more caring than I.  I do my best to see the good that is there and avoid the bad that exists.  I am a person of action.  Tonight, and every night until Christmas, I shall light a candle in the window hoping against hope that some will "see the light."  But today, at least until The Big Bang Theory comes on, my action shall be ostrichesque!  Thank god there is a good supply of sour cream raisin bars!

It has to be said

Sometimes I sleep.  Sometimes I think.  This morning was a combination of both.  My heart weighs heavy with the all too frequent out pouring of violence.  The deaths of innocents have seemingly brought about the death of innocence.  We are bombarded each day by the media describing the inhumanity of man.  Police officers killed.  Races profiled.  Terrorist attacks.  The most despicable deeds performed in the name of vengeance, retribution, or worse yet, religious fervor.  And we wring our hands and lament, “My God, the world is a terrible place.” 

No!

The world is NOT a terrible place.  There are terrible people.  And as trite as it seems, the musical “South Pacific” has the reason set to song.  You have to be carefully taught.  

You've got to be taught

To hate and fear,

You've got to be taught

From year to year,

It's got to be drummed

In your dear little ear

You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught to be afraid

Of people whose eyes are oddly made,

And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,

You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught before it's too late,

Before you are six or seven or eight,

To hate all the people your relatives hate,

You've got to be carefully taught!

Teach—a verb—an action word.  We teach by our actions.  Tell someone something, they might believe it.  Show someone something, it might matter.  Model the action and it is observed, and internalized, and repeated.  Edmund Burke is credited with the quotation, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”  By our inactivity, we teach fear.  By our acceptance of evil, we breed hatred.  By our shoulder shrugs and desire to crawl in a hole and ignore the world, we allow. 

But what?  What should we do?  What can I do?  As difficult the question, the answer is amazingly simple.  Do good.  Be good.  CELEBRATE GOOD!  MODEL GOOD!!!! 

We raise millions of dollars each year to help the helpless, feed the starving, and clothe the naked.  We do good.  We teach our children that one rule is “golden”.  We do good.  We help our neighbors and care for the sick.  We do good.  Put your mouth where your money is.  TEACH those around you.  MODEL what you want to see in the world.  But for all that is holy, Don’t “do nothing.” 

I used to play a game.  “What do you want them to say at your funeral?”  My answer, selfishly, for years has been, “I miss him.”  I think I’ll change the answer.  My mother used to say it.  My wife says it frequently.  Two of the most important women in my life can’t be wrong.  Here’s what I want said at my funeral.  “You done good!”

My tool

I've lost my tool!  I've used it as long as I can remember.  I occasionally used it in high school.  College saw an increase in its use.  I probably used it every weekend during my first year of teaching, and once I got married, I used it almost every day.  With humility, I can honestly say it never failed me.  Oh, as we've aged and changed our habits, its use declined.  But whenever I needed it, it was there!  And now...nothing.  I was preparing for a main event...a celebratory occurrence...I was in a groove--on a roll--and then--what was one thing became three! One side split left.  One side split right.  And the center shaft stayed intact.  What once was extremely utile was now useless.  Oh, I understand.  I watch the news.  I know that you can now have them replaced.  But I brought this one with me into the marriage and I thought I would take it out with me.  Alas.  I fear they just don't make vegetable peelers the way they used to!

Photo op

As all good photographers will tell you, being in the right place at the right time yields the most significant pictures.  Let me set the scene for you.  We had just arrived home from a performance by the South Dakota Symphony.  Well, members of the South Dakota Symphony.  I claim a little musical ability, an above average ear, and appreciation for skilled instrumentalists.  I am NOT a fan of music composed in a combination of minor keys and major dissonance.  Scratch the first two numbers.  Intermission.  We stayed.  The third performance was an oboe quartet.  That would be one oboe and three string players.  It had its moments of brilliance.  The last piece was a trio of piano, violin, and French Horn. Brahms.  Amazing how one of four can make the whole experience worth it.  Anyhoo, we get home to discover that the pickup is taking up too much space in the garage so the Edge won't fit.  Move the pick-up.  Once inside, we let the horse out (that would be Teddy, the labradoodle) from his kennel and I head downstairs to change out of my symphony clothing.  It's almost time for bed, so I just throw on my robe of many colors.  Back upstairs, only to discover that Teddy wasn't ready to settle down.  He wanted to romp in the back yard.  I open the door.  I find a chair.  I almost freeze my who-has off.  Back inside.  I get my hoodie.  I am now sitting on the back deck in my robe with hoodie.  There's wind.  I come back in and grab the afghan.  I wrap it around me and watch the dog frolic.  There's wind.  With one hand, I hold the hood up and with the other hold the afghan tightly around my legs, not to mention who-has!  My only thrill is, there were no good photographers in that place at that time, but I'm willing to bet you have a mental picture that may keep you up at night!

Frustration

Picture it--a gorgeous summer-like evening.  Perfect for a late mowing.  The soaker hose is giving the perennials next to the fence a much needed drink.  And then the flash of white.  With a lot of black.  Have you met our new labradoodle puppy?  Actually, he's probably 16 months old, but oh, is he a puppy.  Like any youngster, mud is a significant attraction.  So too is the dog next door.  The fence between the two properties provides an excellent demarcation, keeping Gus the Schnauzer in his yard and Teddy in ours.  Actually, what it did was keep Gus at home and Teddy at home giving them reason to run up and down the fence line.  Gus?  Carefree!  Teddy?  Happy as a pig in mud--and twice as dirty.  Mud up his legs.  Mud on his stomach (you should see how low to the ground he gets when he's a running fool!).  And after all that running, a drink was in order--from a puddle of mud!  I'm upset.  Who was the idiot that let the dog out to run through the mud?  In fact, when my lovely bride comes out, I ask her that question.  I omit the idiot part, but I'm pretty sure I implied it.  She informs me she didn't let him out.  Well, I know I didn't, and he's a bright dog, but doesn't yet know how to open the door.  Then the truth.  When I went out to mow, Teddy was upstairs.  Apparently, I didn't shut the door as I went outside.  The idiot was I!  And try as hard as I could to blame anyone else, there it was.  The two of us managed to clean him up.  One of us pounded my chest and wailed "mea culpa" vociferously.  Actually, I did say I was sorry for blaming her.  But oh, the frustration of self realization of stupidity!

It has been busy...

Juxtaposition.  A noun.  That time when everything seems to need to be done at exactly the same time.  We agreed to help with the Boys and Girls club fundraiser.  Starting now.  We are state board members of the State Retired School Personnel.  Convention activities begin tomorrow.  It's national teachers' week and we are involved.  We needed to go to Woonsocket to present a scholarship.  Fudge needed to be made.  Materials needed to be gathered.  And yet, this morning, when all these things coincided, as I walked from coffee in the front porch to take dirty dishes to the kitchen, a glimpse of the back yard caught my eye.  The grass, highlighted by the sun(!) was the most gorgeous shade of vernal green.  The perennials were establishing their right to return.  The class of 2000 pine showed new growth.  And it quite truthfully elicited a sudden gasp-like intake of breath.  What a glorious morning!  The tasks will be done to the best of our ability.  Time management skills will allow us to prioritize and complete.  Stress does nothing.  Action does.  And here's the most important thing.  We are alive and able to act!  Amazing Mother Nature reaffirmed our place in the universe! We're here to revel in her work!  And, apparently, to be busy!