Christmas Letter for 2008

                                                  2008
                         A year of momentous celebrations.
                         … and a few disappointing ordeals:
January -
• in which Megan’s mother Joan was here to visit
• in which we learned these momentous revelations about dear old Mum: she named Megan after a character in the book Apple Tree by Galsworthy; she is afraid of heights (has never been up Seattle’s Space Needle); and she went to a strip club on her 18th birthday (courtesy of the corrupting influence of her older sister)
February -
• in which we sang back-up (along with 700 others) for opera diva Dame Kiri Te Kanawa at an outdoor concert in the park
• in which we had a driveway party with our neighbours to wish Joan a bon voyage
• in which the school year began and Megan was back in a classroom teaching Social Studies and English, in addition to a little librarian work on the side
March -
• in which Austin (28) embarked on a Political Science degree
April -
• in which Megan tried a very British sport called bowls, which is similar to bowling only there are no pins to knock down, it’s played outdoors on perfect grass, and everyone wears white and keeps a stiff upper lip
May -
• in which Megan celebrated another birthday and disappointingly got another year older
• in which the newlyweds (Carlin and Kristen) living in Phoenix, got a new dog
June -
• in which we began a series of ascents of Auckland’s 50 volcanic cones – called mountains, but actually just hills a few hundred metres high
• in which we went to see the musical Priscilla, Queen of the Desert - good fun with outrageous costumes, plenty of ‘70s disco retrospective, and therapy for any latent homophobia
July -
• in which Megan bought a scooter and achieved notoriety among the students as the teacher on the red scooter riding around Auckland. Her coolness factor increased substantially
• in which Megan wanted to sing with a select group to welcome Condoleezza Rice’s visit to New Zealand, but was disappointingly rejected because they were recruiting young singers, despite being the only one who already knew the words to the American national anthem AND being able to sing in a fluent American accent
August -
• in which Nolan (26) announced he would be going to law school next year
• in which Boone (23) came to visit and to summit 8 mountains/volcanic cones/hills while here
• in which Boone played Scrabble against Curt 18 times during his 4 week visit – Boone won 12 times but that’s only because Curt disappointingly had “crap for letters”
• in which we had another driveway party to celebrate Boone’s visit, and then another
September -
• in which we went to our first rugby game, a truly Kiwi experience
• in which we stopped in Bellingham, WA on the way to England, and Curt delivered 3 original paintings as gifts to the boys:

• in which we spent 3 weeks in England to celebrate our 30th anniversary
• in which Megan was hit by a taxi in London while walking across the street. She survived with minor bruises; her beloved muffin was smashed in the ordeal
• in which we went to Bellingham, England and learned it’s pronounced Bell-in-jum there. Really.
October -
• in which we stopped in Portland, OR on our way home from England and saw Curt’s family, our old church family, and Megan’s old school (plus a special stop for Mrs. Fields cookies)
• in which we came home to learn that our church had failed miserably during our brief absence – first approving and then rejecting the appointment of a new pastor because she was gay. We were incensed, frustrated, and sorely disappointed over the ordeal
November -
• in which we gathered with our (Kiwi) neighbours to celebrate and offer a toast for the American election results
• in which we gathered with our Kiwi neighbours again 4 days later for the New Zealand election results
• in which Megan got hit by a car while riding on her scooter. She survived with a few cracked ribs and some minor scrapes and bruises; her beloved scooter got smashed in the ordeal
• in which Nolan and Erica announced their engagement and upcoming summer wedding
• in which Megan bought another scooter
• in which Curt finished 2 more paintings:








December -
• in which we write our clever Christmas letter

Spring Break: LONDON (3 weeks in US/UK/US)

In London, we went to quite a few churches including St Martin in the Fields - where Curt sketched a baptism font - and St Paul's cathedral. St Martin in the Fields turned out to be a unexpectedly sweet little place that we'd never been to before (but had heard its name many times when listening to classical music). The interior was friendly, with a gorgeous crypt underneath, and I especially liked the stained glass window that warped into the shape of a cross. The volunteer was exceptionally friendly, too, which is not necessarily a good thing for Curt while he's sketching. The man kept coming over and telling Curt interesting but unwanted stories about the origins of the font, railing, and chest. While sketching, Curt is always zoned out and dislikes interruptions, so it's my job as The Artist's Personal Assistant to get rid of people who try to strike up conversations.

We also went to lots of museums, including the Tate Modern, the National Gallery, the Courtauld Gallery (a nice little museum with a great collection of Cezannes), and the British Museum (to see the Rosetta Stone, and to see the Elgin Marbles which were stolen from the Parthenon).

We enjoyed our tour of Parliament, but a fire alarm went off while we were there so everyone had to evacuate, including the MPs and Lords. I shamelessly snapped this photo of Lord Sebastian Coe (former Olympian and head of the 2012 London Olympic committee) while he was evacuated with us. By the way, entering Parliament was the only time we had to go through a security check. In comparison, every museum, government building, and even the Statue of Liberty requires a security check in America.


In addition, we went to a musical called Jersey Boys about Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, which was full of great music.

And we went up in the London Eye to see the city, albeit on a grey day.

So it sounds like a fine time, doesn't it.
Unfortunately there were a few snafus:

The first snafu was when I washed my hair with hand lotion instead of shampoo. Yes, this may sound familiar because embarrasingly, I must admit I have done this before - on the day of my dad's memorial service. Talk about stupid.

Snafu deuxieme was that I got confused about what day it was. It wasn't until Curt showed me the newspaper that I was convinced it was really Wednesday. Sadly, we hadn't gone to the Shakespeare play that afternoon at the Globe Theatre (that I had already purchased tickets for!) because I thought it was only Tuesday. I was so mad at myself because a) it wasted money, b) it was an experience I was looking forward to and c) I felt pretty stupid. Again.

Snafu numero tres was the most harrowing. This one didn't make me feel stupid; it just made me feel pain. I got hit by a taxi cab while walking across the street. Luckily, the cab only hit my side, which spun me around. My knee and my right arm were bruised, but that was about all. I was eating a scrumptious yoghurt and pecan muffin from Pret at the time, and it went flying out of my hand onto the road.
Here's how it happened: We were a part of a mob of about 30 pedestrians who were trying to cross The Strand near Trafalgar Square. The mob all stepped off the curb and started across, so I stepped off too. Perhaps the cab was trying to run the yellow/red light? Or perhaps the mob had started out a second before the WALK signal? I just started walking with everyone else and then I felt the cab's impact. All the other pedestrians yelled at him and shook their fists so I think he was at fault. I saw my glorious muffin smashed on the street with tire marks through it and thought, that could have been me. Curt said he thought I was goners.

You might think that I got hit because I was American and therefore looking the wrong way, but remember, I've been living in New Zealand and driving on the left for 3 years now. The direction of London traffic was familiar to me. (I had more trouble when I tried to drive in Portland the following week) By the way, aren't London cabbies supposed to be the greatest ever?!? Maybe the one I encountered was talking on his cellphone instead. I don't know. He didn't really stop. But for the remainder of the trip, whenever I saw a cab, I wondered if that was the one who had hit me. And I was very careful crossing the street thereafter.

As for the muffin, we went to many more Pret-a-Manger stores and bought many more yoghurt pecan muffins over the next few weeks, but I couldn't help thinking about the poor muffin smashed somewhere on The Strand. Perhaps the pigeons appreciated it.

So London turned out to be a bit more of a challenge than Curt or I expected. Overall it just seemed too high-pressured. We were happy to get out in the countryside next.

May 18 = Europe Day

When the kids were growing up, we liked to invent holidays: November 1st was Annual Pumpkin Throwing Day (we'd throw the mouldy jack-o-lanterns from the deck into the wheelie bin below). We had Cookie Dough Day (guess whose idea that was) in March, and T-Bone Day in January. April 12th was Titanic Day, in honour of one son's obsession. And May 18th was Europe Day.

Most people from Washington State
(like us) would normally associate the day of May 18th with Mt. St Helens' eruption on May 18, 1980. But our family departed for an six-week trip to Europe on May 18, 1995 and preferred to commemorate that journey. So every May 18th, we would get out the photo album, watch the old home movies, or read the journals we wrote. We'd ooh and aah at Dwaad's sketches, and reminisce about the food, the sights, and the people we had encountered.

This year, I sent the boys a digital photo presentation about Europe Day which you can view by clicking 'PLAY' below.
Happy Memories.

Make a Smilebox slideshow