I am repurposing the Christmas card messages I've written since 2001. From old Christmas cards to new blog posts. One a day. Merry Christmas.
We bought a
100-year-old house, we went to Paris, I broke my ankle, Rachel got a master’s
degree, we have the same jobs, Tom painted a mural over the fireplace, our two
kittens turned into cats. That’s our year, though not in that exact order.
As owners of
“this old house” we have a long list of projects—from the mundane (put coat
hooks in closets) to the sublime (build addition on back that will have a
screened deck overlooking a garden with a little waterfall cascading into a
stream with a little bridge). Tom loves doing the projects, otherwise
known as playing with his tools, and it usually seems to me that
these tasks are very much like “men's work.” So, in a postfeminist twist that some
would call ironic, it all works out: I say “do this, do that” and don’t even
have to feel guilty.
Love to all
PS. The cover art for the 2001 card is a photo of the mural Tom painted over our fireplace.
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