Hello, there again. It's another snowy New Years' Eve here at my tidy (and tiny) little home as I get ready to face what I hope will be a quiet year. It's too bad I was such a fool last August what with the whole Claire business; otherwise, there'd be two messed-up middle-aged people watching the Air Farce special, drinking diet cola and eating store-brand tortilla chips before turning in at nine. Knowing that I helped put Elly in the CMH added to the gloom hanging over this year's holiday season. Not even taking in dinner at both Ted's and Gordon's did anything more than fill my stomach. The rest of me feels fairly empty; it's a feeling I've got to get used to, though, for her sake. As I said last month, when she gets better, she's got to be kept away from things that might cause a relapse and, let's face it, the biggest thing in that list plays with trains and buys sports cars. Connie might not like it but I can't think about that.
The other cloud hanging over all our heads is what happened to Deanna and Michael two months ago. Since Liz, Anthony, the Sobinskis and April all swung down South to help out, they didn't need another person underfoot. What they needed was a leg-man for Ted; I had plenty of time on my hands so I helped him out by getting Mike's old girlfriends to share their medical history. Y'see, they were at the point in the grieving process where they asked the question "What if?" What if, for instance, he'd ended up with Martha or Rhetta or she'd married Perry Fletcher? Would that have made much of a difference? From what I understand, it really wouldn't have; they were just scratching an itch anyway so it was simply a base they felt they needed to cover before Mike got to talking about getting a vasectomy. (From what they tell me, he was trying to raise the issue in a way that didn't sound like a slam against third children.)
As for the child they didn't want to feel superfluous, April seems to be doing reasonably well in her studies; if she can avoid giving into the frustration that we all feel at test time, she'll probably do fairly well for herself. It's sort of too bad that we never got around to finishing her sweet suite though. Ah, well. Maybe next summer.
Chee! Look at the time! Phil's supposed to come over to talk about Iris's travels so I'd better cut things short. Here's hoping you have a happy, quiet 2010.
Yours,
John.