Dearest Fellow Celebrants:
In keeping with the spirit of the season, Hovland household elections took place early in November. Despite a late-October scandal involving the distribution of year-old Halloween candy, JoAnn emerged as Master and Commander of the House when her accuser and political opponent, Tom, consumed the evidence during an episode of red-eyed, chocolate-breathing gluttony. The voting public around here consisted of various members of the Fur, Fish, and Feathers Party, all of whom succumbed to bribery in the form of nutritious cat, dog, and fish food, apple-flavored squirrel biscuits, and no-mess bird seed. Tom’s popularity plummeted late in the race when he got caught filching unsalted peanuts from the blue jay feeder. He ended up at the bottom of the ballot count, receiving one vote less than the unsightly hired creature that sucks green slime from the aquarium glass.
JoAnn’s successful campaign capped yet another year of hard work and helpful contributions to society. She planned and conducted the spring transplantation of her Dad’s roses, redecorated the kitchen, took up knitting and weaving, re-wired the household electrical outlets, oversaw the removal and replacement of the front-yard plum tree, visited her Grandma Bennett on a regular basis, and spent the fall semester taking a statistics class. Tom spent most of the year recovering from elective surgery involving the removal of a pesky nerve from his foot, which he injured over a lifetime of repeated insertions into and subsequent involuntary removals from his mouth. During his extended convalescence, he has commissioned statistical studies on a number of subjects of interest, apparently, only to him.
Other medical procedures during 2004 consisted of a blood patch for JoAnn’s spousally-caused spinal headache, acupuncture for Avery the arthritic dog, the removal of a festering abscess from a very un-Christmaslike part of Cecil the cat’s anatomy, and a thorough checkup for Olive the kitten after a ferocious clash with the neighbor’s twin hounds. She escaped the mêlée with tattered paws and a bald spot on her hind quarter in the shape of a Dachshund fang. Emma the cat remained injury-free throughout the year, though her mouse-catch count remained at a lackluster one through the middle of December.
Disappointments for the year consisted of Tom’s involuntary work-related transfer to the toxic metropolis of Chicago, Illinois, and Hasbro’s issuance of “Defense Courier” G.I. Joe during this, the famous doll’s fortieth birthday. As opposed to the gun-, knife-, grenade-, and flame-thrower-equipped Joes of Tom’s youth, the “Defense Courier” version comes equipped with handcuffed briefcase, secret papers, mission card, and—most unfortunately—cell phone. Tom has attempted to arrange a visit to the National Toy Hall of Fame in Rochester, NY, to protest this modern-day tragedy, but his letters and phone calls remain unanswered.
Our sincerest apologies go out to JoAnn’s brother, Jeff, and his new wife, Lynn. We must have lost the wedding invitation among the important piles of correspondence and stacks of unpaid bills that protect our counter space from dust and cat hair. Sorry we missed the ceremony. We regret any inconvenience our absence may have caused. Best wishes and congratulations to you both for having the type of wedding every man desires.
Sincerely hoping everybody lives the Christmas season of your wildest hopes and dreams, just like we do.
