Ah yes, it’s that time of year. Those family Christmastiffany jewelry newsletters should start arriving any day now.
Oh, goody.
As a recovering Christmas missive writer I’m probably a little more critical than someone who has never had the addiction.
When I quit cold turkey, six years ago, I vowed that if by the time I was ever two paragraphs into a Christmas newsletter and I had an uncontrollable urge to introduce the writer to my 12-step program, that I’d just ball it up and give it a toss.
I can’t tell you how hard that vow has been to keep.
They say good things come to those who wait and, in this case Tiffany Keys, the waiting has produced fewer and fewer of the life’s-too-good-to-be-true sonnets in our holiday mail.
To those who have eliminated our names from your ho-ho-ho mail merges, thank you.
Thank you for not finally breaking down and sharing your great-grandpappy’s recipe for Christmas Squirrel Stew.
Quite frankly, I’ve never found that an apple takes the “wild” taste out of any animal that wasn’t specifically farm-fed with the precise intent and purpose of ending up on my dinner table.
Thank you for not sharing the photos of your vacation in Tahiti last winter.
As much as you enjoyed the trip those photos only would have reminded me that, while you were tanning on the beach with an umbrella drink in your hand, I was stuck in Kansas considering treatment for frostbite.
Oh, and just between us, the photos you sent from your winter in Hawaii; I knew that tiffany bangles couldn’t be you on the beach, even if the picture was taken from the balcony of your 22nd-floor hotel room.
What gave you away?
I’m pretty sure it was the bikini. It left little to the imagination and, well, there was way too much of you in some places and not nearly enough in others.
Thank you for not asking me to logon to your new Web site where I’d get a ringside-seat of your granddaughter’s graduation from nursery school and her little brother’s graduation from diapers.
You shared them earlier this year on Twitter and Facebook. That was very thoughtful of you, although I do suspect, at some point, your grandson might file a dandy of a lawsuit against you.
Thank you for not inviting us — again — to your vacation home in the Rockies. I know the air smells like pure heaven and the snow makes everything look like a picture postcard.
However, the last time the Big Guy tried to ski he spent the rest of our vacation recuperating.
And that heavenly smell? To me it smells suspiciously like evergreen and pine, both of which I’m allergic to.
So, thank you so much for not sharing your entire year en masse.
I much prefer a quick e-mail now and then or a phone call, sharing good news, asking for help tiffany rings or asking for prayer all through the year.
I like knowing your children are all well, happy and employed.
I like knowing when they’re not, as well, at the time its happening, if for no other reason than you don’t have to shoulder that burden alone.
Christmas is about celebrating life.
Life is worth celebrating all year long — warts and all.
Linda Brown is marketing director for The Ottawa Herald. E-mail her at lbrown@ottawaherald.com
Christmas newsletters are too much
Ah yes, it’s that time of year. Those family Christmas tiffany jewelry newsletters should start arriving any day now.
Oh, goody.
As a recovering Christmas missive writer I’m probably a little more critical than someone who has never had the addiction.
When I quit cold turkey, six years ago, I vowed that if by the time I was ever two paragraphs into a Christmas newsletter and I had an uncontrollable urge to introduce the writer to my 12-step program, that I’d just ball it up and give it a toss.
I can’t tell you how hard that vow has been to keep.
They say good things come to those who wait and, in this case Tiffany Keys, the waiting has produced fewer and fewer of the life’s-too-good-to-be-true sonnets in our holiday mail.
To those who have eliminated our names from your ho-ho-ho mail merges, thank you.
Thank you for not finally breaking down and sharing your great-grandpappy’s recipe for Christmas Squirrel Stew.
Quite frankly, I’ve never found that an apple takes the “wild” taste out of any animal that wasn’t specifically farm-fed with the precise intent and purpose of ending up on my dinner table.
Thank you for not sharing the photos of your vacation in Tahiti last winter.
As much as you enjoyed the trip those photos only would have reminded me that, while you were tanning on the beach with an umbrella drink in your hand, I was stuck in Kansas considering treatment for frostbite.
Oh, and just between us, the photos you sent from your winter in Hawaii; I knew that tiffany bangles couldn’t be you on the beach, even if the picture was taken from the balcony of your 22nd-floor hotel room.
What gave you away?
I’m pretty sure it was the bikini. It left little to the imagination and, well, there was way too much of you in some places and not nearly enough in others.
Thank you for not asking me to logon to your new Web site where I’d get a ringside-seat of your granddaughter’s graduation from nursery school and her little brother’s graduation from diapers.
You shared them earlier this year on Twitter and Facebook. That was very thoughtful of you, although I do suspect, at some point, your grandson might file a dandy of a lawsuit against you.
Thank you for not inviting us — again — to your vacation home in the Rockies. I know the air smells like pure heaven and the snow makes everything look like a picture postcard.
However, the last time the Big Guy tried to ski he spent the rest of our vacation recuperating.
And that heavenly smell? To me it smells suspiciously like evergreen and pine, both of which I’m allergic to.
So, thank you so much for not sharing your entire year en masse.
I much prefer a quick e-mail now and then or a phone call, sharing good news, asking for help tiffany rings or asking for prayer all through the year.
I like knowing your children are all well, happy and employed.
I like knowing when they’re not, as well, at the time its happening, if for no other reason than you don’t have to shoulder that burden alone.
Christmas is about celebrating life.
Life is worth celebrating all year long — warts and all.
Linda Brown is marketing director for The Ottawa Herald. E-mail her at lbrown@ottawaherald.com