Lou Milner - Humbug 2001

Merry Christmas Bah Humbug Happy Hanukah

Goodbye old 2001 Hello New Year

Lou's almost-late Christmas letter

As you are aware, this is the time of year that people send out cute little letters alerting everyone in their address books that they are not only alive but REALLY ALIVE. They've had a stupendous year! What with trips to the cabin, treks to Nepal, and giving birth to countless children, one wonders how they ever find the extra hours necessary to send Yuletide greetings. But then, of course, one is reminded that time is a human invention, just as Christmas cards are, and so it all makes sense¹. Regrettably, I seem to have invented far fewer hours than all of my friends, family, and acquaintances. Not only that, I have made terrible use of what little time I have afforded myself. Even so, I have trouble recalling what has occurred. However, in the interest of finally getting to the point, I shall attempt to outline the highlights of this past year.

On the eve of 2001, i.e., December 31, 2000, I noticed a small hole in the couch. I remember this distinctly, as we were enjoying the companionship of friends and sharing a wee libation with them at the time of discovery. I was not sitting in my usual spot at the kitchen table but rather on the sofa in the living room. I happened to glance thighward and, to my horror, saw a hole the size of a button (I blame Jack), which caused me to exclaim - mid sentence² - "My God! There's a hole in the couch!" After the initial shock, however, I must have grown accustomed to it because today, a year later, the hole is as big as Nevada, absolutely irreparable, but rarely observable. Why? Because Jack is generally lying atop what remains of the couch in an attempt, apparently successful, to camouflage the hole as a large pot-bellied grey-haired cat-lover who, at odd times³, can also been seen on the balcony smoking cigarettes⁴ with a couch strapped to his tiny bum.

And now that we have pushed onto the subject of Jack and his stupid bloody cat, in a more positive vein, I must say there have been a few ingratiating events. For example: thankfully, there were no Brussels sprouts this year. Instead, Jack experimented with beans: scarlet runner, blue, yellow, and run-o'-the-mill green. A beautiful array of gladioli blossomed from July through September bringing with them - into the house - the most amazing assortment of earwigs. And the grape vine produced an abundance of purply pearls, which I fully expected would be harvested and transformed into wine; sadly, it was not to be. The wine was turned into jelly⁵ and stored in our cupboard where the favored honey used to linger. (I'm a honey person myself, but you know me, no sacrifice is too great when it comes to keeping the old guy happy.) The cat has grown by 13 pounds and 11 inches, and has taken up a semi-permanent, or at least habitual, snoozing spot atop our bed between the old guy and myself from 11 p.m. to 3 a.m. Picture, if you will, whose face is being pounced upon at 3:01 to be alerted of the time⁶. Talk about a rude awakening - and from a cat who has lived alongside me in this house for nigh on seven years but who still views me as a startling stranger. (Luckily, I am ever subtle and never one to mention the petty annoyances of weaker creatures like Jack and his stupid bloody cat.)

On the traveling front, we have been nowhere, but, truly, what does it matter when the hearth is where the home is. We are still both semi and occasionally employed in dead-end jobs, but what does it matter when we'll just be dead in the end, anyway. And remember what Sir Thomas Browne or Woody Allen or somebody said? "Death is the cure of all disease." Presumably, that includes unemployment. So that's something to look forward to. Meanwhile, we enjoy suffering from outstandingly good health, a spectacular ocean view, a wood fire, and some darned good hooch⁷.

Cheers!

Lou, aka Spokesperson For All Household Creatures

¹Henry David Thoreau said: "Time is but the stream I go fishing in." I have no idea what that means, but I thought I'd throw in the fish reference, as I live in Campbell River - one of two "salmon fishing capitals of the world," both, coincidentally, located on Vancouver Island (the other is Port Alberni - or so Port Albernians claim).
²It wasn't even my sentence. No, I discourteously interrupted someone. Surely you understand. I mean, this came as quite a shock; something akin to espying a cockroach, a mouse, or a helicopter in one's living room.
³3:15; 11:58; 7:19, and so on.
⁴Old habits do die hard, and die-hards just do not die. Witness Jack's father, still a smoker at 89.
⁵This is almost a biblical parallel, considering Jesus turned water into wine.
⁶Ciro has obviously never read Garfield, who once thought-ballooned, "I hate mornings. They start too early in the day."
⁷You're probably wondering how it is that with so few interruptions to while the hours, days, weeks, months that I am still unable to send greeting cards in time for Christmas. Once again borrowing from the cartoon cat: "Some call it laziness. I call it deep thought." You may not have any experience with this personally, so take it from me, deep thought can be very time consuming, especially when interrupted by deep sleep.