December 2022
Some years it just makes sense to write a Christmas letter.
Some years are just more pivotal than others.
2022 was one of those years.
Steve’s parents: On New Year’s Day 2022, Ed and Rita were still in their home, a home they could no longer take care of. Very long story short, they moved into Lake Forest Independent Living (my mother lived there for three years) in mid-April. Ed was not well the entire time they lived there. He died, quite suddenly, on the morning of June 22.
July was fitful. Rita was unable to live on her own so finding placement was essential. Fortunately, Steve found space at Pine Harbor Assisted Living. In all honesty, we knew she was either going to choose to live or choose to die. Gratefully, she settled in quickly, enjoys the people and company and is actually better off physically than she was a year ago.
It was an absolutely exhausting, emotionally-draining, roller coaster of a summer. Things are so much better now, although Ed is greatly missed.
August was offset by the publication of my first book—25 North Country New York Women and Their Exceptional Contributions. I was so honored to be interviewed for a 30 minute segment on our local PBS television station.
(If you’d like a copy, it can be ordered at https://www.bloatedtoe.com/north-country-store/product/bold-and-courageous/. An easier way is to go to the publisher’s webpage [bloatedtoe.com] and follow the prompts. Of course, I could also send you one if tech overwhelms.)
(My next book—Two Buried, Hold the Mustard—History, Folklore and Legend of the Michigan Hot Dog—will be available in June, just in time for Michigan month in the North Country.
This being the post-covid (at least for me) year, I had great travel plans. I think Steve would have joined me at least for part of the trip, but his father’s death and the great disturbance with his mother, just immobilized him. “Go,” he said. “I just can’t this year.”
And go I did. On September 18th, I flew out of Montreal to Dubai where I spent a week in this overrated city. A week letter I landed in Oman where I spent two phenomenal weeks traveling in a huge loop. I was invited into people’s homes, treated with true Arab hospitality, and thoroughly enjoyed my time. My only complaint was the heat. I can’t imagine living in a climate as hot as the Middle East.
On October 5th, I flew to Baku, Azerbaijan where I picked up a tour that brought our group of 12 travelers through Azerbaijan, into Georgia and then to Armenia. You know you’re far from home (14 flying hours) when road signs say Tehran—800 km, Turkish border—20 km. One day we drove to the Russian border.
Geographically, the countries are part of Europe, but certainly not Western Europe. They reminded me a lot of Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria—Eastern Europe. I’d go again.
The reluctant traveler was open minded about a tour. He’d never done that in all his 90 countries. But I have high marks for Intrepid Travel. I’d use it again and can recommend it.
As part of trying to come to terms with 75, I have a no goal: 100 to 75! I have two years to get to country #100. I’m already plotting my next adventure, and it this point, many of the countries of true adventures. Iran is very much different from France. Already, there are great plans for 2023 and down payments have already been paid.
We leave for Mexico City on January 5th—almost two weeks earlier than in the past. Christmas will be light. When my parents spent their winters in Florida, my father always wanted to leave on his birthday—January 2nd.
Other than all that drama, life moves on. We are both blessed with good health, time to do the things we want, and sufficient money to do them. Take away any of those three legs of retirement., and the whole thing just falls apart. We are more than grateful.
Christmas comes again, the comforting rhythms of days long gone. So many no longer grace the Christmas table, but they are remembered with love and fondness. I still make Mrs. Prenevou’s fruitcake, the fruitcake that arrived on Grace Avenue the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Elaine Cranstoun’s amazing fruit salad will be served sometime during the holidays. Wade’s southern sweet potato casserole will get made. The house and tree will be decked in tinsel, boughs and baubles, just as my mother did all those blessedly remembered years ago. Her tortierre (purchased in Quebec), will be served once again on Christmas Eve. How nice it would be have Christmas once again with them.
We wish you happiness, joy, excess and love.
Merry Christmas 2022!
