Dear Family, Friends, and Random People Who Read This Blog:

Tradition dictates I write our annual holiday newsletter. The hubster and I know people in all parts of the world eagerly anticipate hearing of our amazing adventures and accomplishments each year, so I apologize ahead of time for what’s coming. This year has been a great disappointment to us, and thus to you also.

The hubster and I can honestly say we’re not sorry to see 2019 on its way out. For the most part, it has been a huge heaping helping of a stinking stanking bowl of horse dookie. No. Really!!!! This year has been like treading water in the backyard tank of a cesspool, BUT we’re both out of prison and on parole now, so we do have SOMETHING to be thankful for during this holiday season. (And I don’t care what they say; orange is definitely not the new black). 

On the positive side of the year, I was called for jury duty in January, but luckily, I didn’t get selected for any juries. Now this might possibly have been due to the fact they didn’t feel I could be fair and impartial since I felt compelled to tell the defense attorneys, “Well—if your client is here in court today, they must have done something naughty.”

Although we did travel many places this year, each ended in a splendid disaster. The highlight came in Senoia, Georgia when the hubster accidently wandered into a herd of zombies from the set of The Walking Dead. Production quickly caught and detained him. However, after he claimed his hemorrhoids were acting up and impairing his vision, they called the local sheriff, and the hubster was involuntarily hospitalized for three days in a quaint country psychiatric hospital. (Good times).

A golden opportunity came my way while the hubster was recovering. CNN discovered this blog and the journalists there were quite impressed with my work. They offered me a position at the network, but I had to turn it down, as at this point in my life, I’m too old to do janitorial work. (Nonetheless, my kudos to the network for wanting even their custodians to be high achieving literary types).

I also qualified for power walking at the senior Olympic games this year, but sadly could not compete due to the fact a teeny tiny meteor fell out of the sky and struck me in the head while I was training. The hubster was beside himself worried because I was in a comma for a week. I pulled out of it though and I can now communicate with aliens. (Silver linings. I feel sure this will translate to a great job opportunity in the government somewhere down the line).

Sadly, the hubster lost all the toes on his right foot while he was trying to change the blades on the lawn mower. Don’t ask me how he managed to do that. The lawn mower wasn’t even on.

Speaking of losing things, the hubster told me today he has “lost most of his marbles” and doesn’t remember where he left them. He tells me the possibilities of finding them again will include visits to Syracuse, Boston, the lost city of Atlantis, and El Dorado. (Bless his soul).

I’m still writing my little heart out, for all the good it does me. The royalties for the Rafe Ryder series came in yesterday, and I can now pay for groceries for several months, but the menu is going to be very limited. We will have to subsist on Ramen noodles and tea. (Tea is iffy. Might be too expensive. We will see).

Rupert, our twelve-year old Shiba Inu has been defined as a public nuisance and banned from every dog park throughout Vermont and New Hampshire because he refuses to play nicely with other dogs, particularly if the other dog is a yellow lab. (Petulant, supercilious little prig). As if that hasn’t been hard enough on us, his plus-sized dog modeling career fell through and he is now between job opportunities. (Freeloading little fur ball).

By the way, our aforementioned stint in jail came shortly after I read the works of the great philosophers and was struck by Kant’s essay “Answering the Question: What is enlightenment?” Kant was of the opinion enlightenment is man’s emergence from immaturity and everyone ought to think autonomously free of the dictates of external authority. 

In hindsight, I never should have discussed Kant’s essay with the hubster. (I think it was far too esoteric for him). Anyway, he thought it would be fun to see if he could achieve said enlightenment, and I went along with him. (I’m supportive like that).

In our quest for the hubster’s enlightenment, it didn’t take long for us to find a large dilapidated brick building in rural Vermont. Each of us thinking autonomously, I painted splashy fluorescent murals on the building, and the hubster planted a beautiful public flower garden around it. Most of the local community seemed to think it was wonderful, but sadly, we heard the owners did not.

One evening, after driving up to water the garden we happened to run into the owners at their local Kentucky Fried Chicken/Taco Bell franchise. Heated words were exchanged and chicken wings and burritos were flung. Windows, tables, and chairs were allegedly broken. Long story short, the hubster and I did a month in the slammer.

I’d love to tell you about our three children and what they’re doing this year, but currently none of them are speaking to us.

So biding adieu to our year of general failure and broken dreams, the hubster and I wish you ALL a year full of joy and happiness! Have a healthy and prosperous 2020!!

All the best,

L. L.