The Christmas Letter

Here's the full text of our Christmas letter for this year:

CONTACT LIGHT
Winter 2004-5, a Blackberry House publication, by John M. Burt, 960 SW Jefferson Avenue, Corvallis, Oregon 97333 USA Telephone (541) 753 – 6094, cell (541) 602 – 6026, email john_m_burt@hotmail.com , blog http://www.john_m_burt.blogspot.com

Two cranes are currently being used in the construction project up at Reser Stadium (formerly named Parker after a football hero, now named Reser after a frozen burrito), a few blocks from Blackberry House. A couple of weeks ago, the arms of the cranes were wrapped in bright yellow lights, and the tops of the cranes’ towers were decorated with red lights in the form of Christmas trees.

The cranes look gorgeous from our lawn or our kitchen window, and we’re hoping that we can get a legible photograph of them before the lights come down. We’re holding out hope for the digital camera.
Last year at this time, there were a lot of things that I hoped would be different by now, and most of them have not changed, at least not in ways I would have hoped for. Oh, well, that’s life. And just think of all the things that could have gotten worse, or which could go wrong in the year to come . . . .

Um, err . . . I’ll try to focus on the things that I might finally be able to improve upon in 2005. That strikes me as a much better idea.

I have continued my plan of taking the prerequisite courses for the nursing program, building up points for admission. There’s just one left for me to take, and then I’ll be all out of classes. Possibly I can find some classes that cover the same material that’s contained in the R.N. program, or maybe I’ll just stay home in the evenings memorizing the Physician’s Desk Reference.

I’m also still working for that home-health organization, and at a daytime activity program for old people, and oh yes, doing massage. Pick up a little here and a little there, and maybe we’ll make a living.

Kathe’s health remains stable, but decidedly not satisfactory. Her replacement hips continue to function well, but she continues to suffer from a condition that causes spasms, weakness and severe pains in her legs, often denying her a proper night’s sleep.

Tesfaye at 18 and Waldy at 16 do their own things, for the most part. This was especially noticeable at Thanksgiving, when there were just the two of us for dinner. I’d been alone at Thanksgiving (when I was in the Navy), but I’d never had Thanksgiving dinner with just one other person. Oh, well, at least it was the right other person.

Waldy works with the local chapter of Food Not Bombs, which every Sunday gathers in our kitchen with donated food to prepare a meal which they serve in the park downtown.

We did get some things done this year, most notably the new section of roof. Jake came for an extended visit, during which, with a hired helper, he put long-lived shingles on the section of the roof which needed it most, the south-facing section above Tes’ apartment. They also replaced the 35-year-old skylights in that area, which had finally begun to leak. I had always admired the clever use of big panes of plexi, nailed on in place of an equal area of shingles – the storebought skylights don’t have anything like their charm. And it remains to be seen whether they will last as long as the plexi did.

A big project for next year has got to be the lawn. It’s all, you know, muddy. Probably has something to do with the Waldy People coming around all the time, walking on it. We have a couple of walkways on the lawn, made up of chunks of recycled sidewalk concrete, and we’re always talking about laying another one, but I think this year we may have to go for several.

So, by this time next year, I may be an enrolled nursing student, the lawn may be extensively amended with little gray slabs, and more of the roof may be leak-free.

Or not. Much is uncertain as we grope for answers in this post-11/2 world. Like, when did “My Favorite Things” become a Christmas song? Suddenly it’s on CD compilations and in heavy rotation on the radio – when did that happen? Does anybody remember it happening, or have we always been at war with Eurasia?
“Contact light” is the first phrase spoken from the surface of the Moon. This Contact Light is dedicated to the lights on the cranes. Please keep in contact, folks. And keep it light.