Seasons Greetings, everyone!

This is the first time that I have not wanted to write the Christmas letter. I guess it’s because I don’t feel very funny. But don’t worry—I don’t feel unfunny enough to have Joel write it.

2008-08-05 17.17.59 2008-08-05 17.19.08

The Quick and Dirty. . . Joel is still at Hewitt, doing well, has a new laptop to create even more billable hours. Erin, still at iManage (gasp!—she’s never been at a job over a year) and also teaching at DePaul. Reba, still perfect, and Muddy, worse than ever. Apparently, “that dog [Muddy] is getting a gut”—probably from all of the cookies she steals from the countertop. Reba is trying to regrow an eyebrow and work on a cure for that moose-killer breath. We also seem to have replaced every major appliance there is in a home this year. Unfortunately, our attention on the inside of the house means that the backyard is sort of scary. Between the dogs and their digging fetish, we think they may be hiding raccoons back there. Joels family. . .  Ed is probably at our house doing some type of repair for us right now, Nettie is remarkably tolerant of the entire process. And we’re so proud that they’ve both stopped smoking! Natalie is in training to make the 2012 women’s soccer team, so she’s probably out practicing dribbling. Cheryl is teaching school and swearing off taboulleh-making sessions, and Elvin is resting on his laurels from our impromptu backyard gatherings. We had him over at our house grilling so often that he finally just left a grill there for “next time.” Erins family. . .  Marilyn, going on sabbatical next year, loves her new reiner, and is seldom home as she is doing a lot of judging. Ray, going it alone in vet practice again, missed going to Brazil for an endurance ride, really happy he doesn’t have to help me drive home to Montana for Christmas (they’re coming here). Matt, living in Texas, practices his drawl, and is generally armpit deep in his latest colic surgery, but not since he broke his heel. We’re getting him parachute lessons so that the next time he falls out of a tree, he won’t hurt himself. Just call him Captain Action!

You couldnt find us because. . . Just because we have cell phones doesn’t mean that we carry them. Or turn them on. But anyway, we might have been at a Brewer’s game with Murray and Tammy and Megan; Erin might have been walking the dogs with Amy; Joel was on yard duty and was making sure Muddy didn’t sneak out; we were visiting one of many friends who had a child this year; Erin was already on the phone with Michelle or Wendy; we did make it to New York for Thanksgiving but couldn’t hear the phone over the multitude playing Taboo; we were still at work; we lost the car keys (again—and again); we were grilling in the backyard with many of you; we went to London in February; Joel’s fantasy baseball team finally paid off after years of “This will be our year!”; we tried to go to the Breeder’s Cup at Arlington Park with Hilda but couldn’t get tickets; or Erin was watching Star Trek in the basement and was ignoring the phone. And I finally did the bloody wedding photos!

We hope this finds you healthy, happy, and with a life full of joy. And as always, the guest bedroom is open should you happen by. We promise to keep the dogs upstairs with us, and Joel promises to keep my Star Trek marathons to a minimum.