Holiday Hijinx

In December of 1995, my mother wrote me a note which arrived in the US Mail.  It was a comical note as if written to Santa by a little girl.  She and my Dad were going to Maine ("The North Pole") for the weekend and that my sister would be there alone.   She was letting me know that my Dad would not not be home from work on Christmas ("get there fast if you are thirsty").  And I guess my Dad was working on my car for some prolonged period ("little red car") and she was letting me know it was done.  Finally, the "not as jolly" lady she refers to is my Grandmother, who, though lovely, could defnitely not ever be referred to with that word.   The note cracked me up.  Especially the typos and spelling errors...in particular the spelling of "sleigh" as "slay".  It slayed me. 

This clearly required a response.   So one was delivered.  It doesn't scan well, so the transcript is here for your pleasure:

Dear Ms. Bonneau:

Mr. Claus is in receipt of your recent letter, which was not dated.  He has asked me to respond on his behalf due to the time constraints of the season.

Though it may be upsetting, I must inform  you that Mr. Claus has found it necessary to remove your name from the gift-giving rolls.  Due to fiscal cutbacks, he has found it necessary to weed out undesirable recipients.  The grammar, spelling, and overall presentation of your epistle has made you a member of the "undesirable" list.

Mr Claus has also asked me to advise you of the following points:

1.  He resents your implication that he is a compulsive over eater.  He has no difficulty engaging the clip on his seat belt on the sleigh, at any time of the year.

2.  Since you did not arrive at the North Pole at the time you stated, he assumes that you will not be coming.  He is quite pleased to have avoided a confrontation with you. 

3.  ARE YOU NUTS?  Mr. Claus does not bring "goodies" to gift recipients homes.  The recipients often prepare "goodies"for Mr. Claus These goodies are donated to the Anchorage, Alaska Central Food Kitchen and are distributed to the needy.   Any "goodie" that you would have prepared would not have met with our stringent gourmet requirement and would have been immediately destroyed in our incinerator.  

4.  He is unfamiliar with any elf named Michelle.  If she is the person whom he suspects, she does not meet the height and weight requirements of our elf community.   While it is not our intention to discriminate, we simply cannot accommodate such elf candidates. 

5.  He has no need of an additional vehicle.  The elves in the Sleigh Maintenance Department have done an excellent job in maintaining this customary mode of transport.  He suggests that you might find some favor with him if you repaired and returned the "little red car" to is rightful owner.  

6. He is aware that there is an evil Mrs. Claus impostor.  He warns you that if you are associated with her in any way, you may be brought in for questioning.  Questioning policies do include torture with various items including reindeer hooves, giant candy canes, and  sharpened icicles.  We at the North Pole have not signed the Geneva Accords and do not subscribe to the mandates of Amnesty International.  Gestapo Elves are more than anxious to acquire information as to the whereabouts of this evil impostor and will stop at nothing to bring her into custody.  Once in custody, she will be forced for the rest of her life to feed the elves with peach dumplings and cheese pastries. 

In conclusion, Mr. "Clause" would like to advise you that modern word processors are equipped with GrammarCheck, Puncutation Check, and SpellCheck features.  USE THEM!!!

Sincerely, 

Ms. Elfina Goodwater

Public Relations, Recipient Elimination Department

 

Really?

Babies need cologne? I had no idea. Found this at WalMart. It smells like....baby. If you are a baby and you need cologne, why would you want it to smell like...baby?

Wake Up Bob!

At 1am last night I heard vague sound. Kind of like a low level, constant alarm. At first I thought it was a dream. Then I thought it was my iPod doing something crazy next to the bed. Then I thought it was a low battery signal on the phone. Then, I laid back down and decided it was a hallucination. Then I sat up and decided it wasn't.

Then, I got smart and woke up my husband.

He got out of bed and turned off the air filter that drowns all sound. And then it became clear. A car horn was on. Steady. Not an on/off alarm. A constant horn. And it was our car--the Montero.

He rapidly headed outside in 20 degree weather in his undies with his keys to investigate. In a flash, he was back inside, having determined that:

1. He couldn't turn it off easily.
2. He'd need tools.
3. He'd need clothes.

As all of this went on I quickly Googled "Car Horn Stuck Montero". Apparently, this is a fairly common problem with a fairly common immediate solution--disconnect the battery. Bob had already come to this conclusion and flown past me, back out into the driveway with channel locks and wrenches in hand.

In a very short time he had it handled. Our neighbor, Red, came over from across the street to help after being awoken by his son and initially thinking it was his car that was the culprit.

Overall, the whole thing made me feel two ways.... hysterically amused and ridiculously proud. Bob was fast, calm, deliberate, and unwavering. Just what you want your man to be in a crisis. Yet, the whole confusing, sleepy, underwear, ice cold, waking the neighbors thing had me laughing for hours.

This morning he hooked the battery up and there was no problem with the horn. But, just to be safe, the Montero will be sleeping INSIDE the garage for awhile. Right underneath our bedroom.

The Flakes Just Keep On Coming

Here's similar shots at 10:30am. Snowing hard but you can't really see it in the pics. In the second shot, Bob had just finished shoveling the driveway. Yes--finished. No sooner would he finish a row, it would fill right back up. I had a two hour nap and woke up to the same relentless barrage of flakes. I love it. It's almost 4:30 right now and Connor is out there somewhere in the white-out trying to sled behind the house. Once in a while you see a flash of his green coat. Maybe he should have an avalance pinger on him.

Never Seen This Before

Those are two little doggies in that black leather box on the back of that bike. Seen on the Garden State Parkway this past Monday. The driver was constantly looking back, checking on the pups. And I was constantly digging for my camera because I couldn't believe it.

Hungry Little Fishies

Today I had an interesting life experience. The FISH Pedicure. That's right, FISH. You put your feet in a tub that's teeming with these little cream colored fishies and they nibble all the dead skin off your hooves. You can read an NPR article about the salon and the process here. Jaclyn in my office read an article about it and said it would be cool. I said I'd go. Kathy said she was not going to let us go alone. So off we went at lunch yesterday to Yvonne's salon. It took 45 minutes to get there from the office, but it was worth it. My feet are spectacular. Those little carp get in all the nooks and crannies and it feels awesome. Kind of freaky, but awesome. Plus, you've just got to love Yvonne. No matter what you say or ask she says "Yes, baby" or "Yes, Honey". It was cool. Check out the videos dated 8/8/08 here.