One of my multiple resolutions this year is to post to this #@$&! blog more often, so here's something I wrote for a recent Writer's meeting:

How I Miss You

Once so sharp

And full of snap

Often compared

To a mighty steel trap

But now edges are worn

And the lining has fray

I guess naught in life

Is here to stay

So crystal clear

Sparkling and quick

A vague remembrance

Burnt down is the wick

Gone off to new pastures

Away from my view

A distant memory

A soft, fading hue

I went to the Doc

For wanting you back

But still things are dim        

Bright lights fade to black

The cobwebs grow heavy

They whisper and sigh

A bad wind is blowing

The end is nigh

I miss you my darling

My dear closest friend

Long gone, off to wander

My thoughts you transcend

If someone could see you

And turn you my way

Long lost companion

My mind, gone astray!

Since I seem to have developed a normal energy level this year, and have pretty much nothing done for the holidays,  y'all are going to have to settle for a poem on my blog instead of a photo card with an amazingly witty and wonderful Christmas letter in hand!  So, here goes:

2013 was an interesting year

It began with champagne and ended with beer

Finances were up and then they went down

Now I just find myself chasing them ‘round

One kid moved to Philly

The other now home

I really can’t describe it

Without writing a tome

My daughters are beautiful

Smart and unique

I think I’ll take credit

For the good part, at least

They have lovely boyfriends

But for me it won’t do

Although I’ve tried several

The fit was bad, like a shoe

Sofia loves her new digs

She never comes here

But when she does

No doubt there’ll be cheer

A puppy awaits Zina

Christmas Eve it arrives

Her name’s to be Olive

We hope to survive

I’m never lonely

For the Children of the Corn

Hang oft at my house

Sometimes staying ‘til morn

Still plenty of dogs

We don’t change our habits

More than one cat

And a few fuzzy rabbits

Horses number four

We love them, you know

The cost is prohibitive

But we can’t let them go

I’m watching the wee ones

And clicking my shutter

Hoping for world peace

And life smooth as butter

2014 looms close,  large and forbidding

We’ll choose resolutions that appear to be fitting

Broken ones, no doubt, will litter our path

But we'll all be OK if we don't do the math

    

Heartfelt wishes from my home to yours for an amazingly joyful holiday and a new year full of wonder!                                                    

                                                                   

 xoxoxox  Ruth  xoxoxox

The 2011 Holiday Letter

The 2011 Holiday Letter

As always, we’ll kick things off with the animal count.  The tally columns will show that I’ve had a bit of difficulty curbing my enthusiasm this year - two in the minus and three in the plus.  Even worse, a very small dog was replaced by a substantially larger equine.  

With great heaviness of heart, I’ve had to bury two beloved animals:  our elderly Yorkie, Strawberry and Zina’s wonderful cat, Trouble.  In an effort to heal, I’ve rescued a young filly (Tallulah aka Impulse Buy), adoped a cat (Berklee), and acquired a mini horse (Rowdy).    Final count stands at:  2 ½ horses, 3 dogs, 1 cat, and a bunny.  Worse than other years, better than some J

Equine news:  Zina is keeping her headstrong horse, Curtis, closer to home in Canton, where they engage in fun things that involve great speed and the jumping of obstacles.   Bella, Sofia’s beautiful steed, resides at our farm in Raynham where she enjoys the exalted life of a pleasure horse.  My rotund pony, Charlotte, remains the sweetest horse alive, and I say this after breaking five ribs in November.  (All my fault, of course; she’s a saint.)  Tallulah, the new baby, spent a few months getting healthy, several more running me over and ripping my arms from their sockets, and is now in regular training.  I found a free (hahaha!) mini to use as a companion for an elderly boarded horse and said horse is now departing for greener pastures.  This leaves me with Rowdy -- a round, hairy, opinionated bundle of no mannered knee-high horse.  Any takers?

Personal news:  Zina and Sofia are still dating the same wonderful young men as last year, while their lovely, gracious, mild-tempered, reserved, homebody of a Mother remains (blissfully) unencumbered.  Both girls are gainfully employed, live together in the Boston area, and keep several cats in honor of their animal laden heritage.   My childcare business is excellent, and I’m having a wonderful time snapping photos hither and yon.

In closing, I’ve prepared a little song, so please sing along with me to the tune of  “The Twelve Days of Christmas”:

On the Twelve Months of This Year,
My good fortune sent to me
Twelve mortgage payments,
Eleven months of Winter,
Ten children leaping,
Nine babies crying,
Eight horses pooping,
Seven major crisis,
Six huge Vet bills,
Five broken ribs!!
Four unsightly blemishes,
Three months of mayhem,
Two incontinent dogs,
And a cat having asthma attacks! 

Wishing you all heaps of happiness and good health in the upcoming year!

xoxo   Ruth    xoxo

Will you?

Will you hover on the outskirts of life

Bemoaning fate

Languishing in sorrow

Or revel in the majesty of our brief existence

Avoid the thorns

Bellow with laughter

Will you wallow in the relentless tides of time

Battered about

Scraped and disoriented

Or wander joyfully along the rocky cliffs

Rest on sandy shores

Navigate wild waters

Will you allow life’s detritus to bury you alive

Frightened and torn

A barren heap

Or claw your way determinedly through the tangle

Find secret places

Create change

Will you find your comfort in mindless excess

Trifling actions

Endless nattering

Or dance gracefully along peaceful stretches

Leap over fiery coals

Lay your head on soft delight

Will you press down and leave your prints on the path

Step in the mud

Make a splash

I will

The 2010 Holiday Letter

I’ll begin this years missive by declaring that I have NOT increased my animal population! I added a cat, but then one disappeared, so the sum total remains at one. Poor Mugsie apparently made some feral creature a nice late afternoon snack, which left the warm spot on the bed free for the prodigal return of Trouble. (He had moved out with Zina last year, but was banished back to Milton for peeing on beds. Bad enough, but then he lifted his leg on a sleeping roomate.)

The dogs, aged 3, 10, 11, & 16, are all still going strong. The Yorkie matriarch of the group, Strawberry, doesn’t see well, can’t hear much, but her heart is strong and her bladder small (take it from there). Stitch, the baby of the group, now weighs in at 140lbs., was raised by Biggles (the 10 pound, neurotic spawn of Strawberry) and looks like an absolute idiot as he excitedly bounces up and down like a toy breed. My darlin’ Clementine, the mid-sized yellow mutt, remains the sweetest, kindest castoff imaginable.

Our current bunny, Greta Garbo, cavorts around happily, thumping her kickers until she spies a human, and then dashes madly into hiding. I’ve been heard saying that I have a non-replacement policy on rabbits, but it always seems such a waste to have that lovely hutch just sitting there empty…

All of our horses remain hale and hearty, consuming vast quantities of very expensive forage and grain. My girl, Charlotte, is fat and fresh; Zina’s steed, Curtis, is wiry and punkish; Sofia’s young mare is volatile and brazen. (Is anyone else picking up on the similarities between equine and owner?) Our little slice of heaven on the banks of the Taunton River continues to be well worth all the time and energy it takes to keep the farm rolling along. It’s such a joy to know that a short ways down the road from home we have a peaceful, private setting where we can ride our horses, and spend endless hours fixing fences and moving mountains of manure from one spot to another.

In other news, I am again unencumbered after another crack at being the rational half of a pair (smacks to all of you who are now tittering behind your hands). Zina and Sofia are still dating the same lovely young men as last year, much to my great happiness. I’ve asked both boys several times to produce a suitable male relative on my behalf, but they just mumble and edge away.

My childcare business remains my mainstay, as I dabble more in photography and writing. When I’m not working, or going out for amazing local Blues, I spend my time at the farm riding, repairing and relaxing. Zina continues to snip tresses at the salon in Boston, where her browbeaten boss kowtows to her every whim. Most of her free time is spent jumping Curtis over brightly colored objects (and making Billy jump through hoops). Sofia, the younger, is transitioning from shoveling manure to changing diapers, and will be my right hand gal after the first of the year. Also a regular rider, she finds lots of time to pour beer into her hollow leg. Suffice it to say that any undesirable traits come from the Greek side of things :}~

Wishing you all heaps of happiness and good health in the upcoming year!

xoxo Ruth xoxo

The 2009 Holiday Letter

Here we are; another year gone. I’ve regularly been a slacker at my monthly Writers Group, but I’ll put in the time for my annual letter of shame. And I’ll be blunt: 2009 was not my favorite year. Things can only go up from here, so, Lordy, bring on 2010!

I am now the proud owner of an Empty Nest. Zina and Sofia are living in Boston with 17 of their closest friends. (OK, three, but it seems like much more.) The first time I pulled up in front of the new apartment, Sofia delightedly pointed out her small deck, where 83 empty beer bottles were prominently displayed. Nice. With three felines in residence, the apartment has been dubbed “The Cat House”. Just imagine: stale beer, multiple cats, dirty socks, and cigarette smoke. Utopia.

Zina remains at the salon on Newbury Street, and is now “on the floor” seeing actual clients. You know, the kind that pay money. She has been performing follicular exorcisms on my matted tresses this past year with wonderful results. Dainty but daunting, she drives a huge pickup and tows our horse trailer like an seasoned pro. Lots of foxhunting this year on Layla, with Curtis living the high life as a pleasure horse. He knew what he was doing when he ran off like a fool last year during his one and only hunt.

Sofia continues to muck and manage at the Hughes’ horse farm. For fun, she is constantly driving or flying off somewhere to hear her friends’ bands. And drink beer. Perhaps get a tattoo. (I told her that the horses inked on her chest would look like goats when she was my age, but she just lifted her bottle in a toast.) After an arduous, frustrating experience with a local auto dealer (which almost landed me in the hoosegow for the holidays) she is touring around in a newish compact car. Bella, her darling, demented steed, eats, drinks, and is merry, but rarely ridden. Anybody want a horse?

I expressed great relief when Zina’s two cats left the premises, vowing loudly and vociferously that I would NEVER get another feline EVER. Shortly afterward, I visited the local animal shelter and adopted a cunning creature, answering to the name of Mugwump. She rules over the four dogs (no, this is not a typo), and her favorite pastime is crouching on a kitchen stool lobbing right hooks at whichever hapless mutt meanders past.

Strawberry is going strong at 15, walking into walls and peeing whenever and wherever the mood strikes; her neurotic daughter Bigglesworth, now 10, still creeps around casting nervous, furtive glances in every direction; Stitch, the 3 year old Great Dane mutt, galumphs about knocking over furniture and resting his 40 pound head on any available lap; and Clementine, the 10 year old darling yellow mutt that had been in the custody of my ex-husband, came home to roost when Kostas flew the coop for Greece.

Things are going well at our little horse farm on the river, and Charlotte and I have gotten out foxhunting a few times. We’ve had to schedule our outings around old age related back problems (me, not the horse). The fish from last year was finally eaten by a cat, but the rabbit is still alive. Win some, lose some.

Both of my girls are dating really wonderful young men. I, on the other hand, am once again unencumbered after a stint with a musician. But, you know, there are plenty of guys out there to choose from. Why just the other night, this man struck up a conversation with me while Sofia and I were out for a quick bite and some music:
Him: “Hi. Do you date?”
Me: “Yes.”
Him: “Oh. Are you dating anyone?”
Me: “Yes.” (imagine nose growing in length)
Him: “Oh. My girlfriend just died.”
Me: “I’m sorry!” (imagine horrified expression on long-nosed face)
Him: “Yeah, so I was hoping we could date.”
Me: **THUD**

So, in summary, here are the combined stats, by size: 4 horses, 2 boyfriends, 4 dogs, 4 cats, 1 rabbit, and a partridge in a pear tree! Ho-ho-hoping everyone has a wonderful holiday season, and a divine new year!! Peace, love and pass the ammunition :)

xoxo Ruth xoxo

The 2008 Holiday Letter

I’ve resisted starting this letter for weeks now, but it has to be done. The thing has taken on a life of its own. My little circle of critics have been pining for the next installment, while glibly offering comments like “The letter last year was OK, but not nearly as funny as the one before!”

I’ll get the animal count out of the way right up front. But first, let me explain…

Poor ancient rabbit of the forgotten name passed away this summer, after a little bunny stroke. He (she?) was in the care of our good friend, bless her heart, while we were on vacation. It would be convenient to blame Jill for his untimely death, but as he had to be propped up for meals, I’m afraid it was inevitable. Despite my protestations of never, ever, EVER acquiring another, I replaced him/her almost immediately with dear, little Greta Garbo -- a reclusive rabbit that darts into hiding at the merest glimpse of a human. Why leave a perfectly good hutch empty, right?

Zina has acquired another horse, after an unsuccessful fox hunting attempt on her beloved Curtis. It appears that her new steed, Layla, may be good for something other than consuming forage. And while on our annual pilgrimage to the Ranch Resort in NY, Sofia and Zina decided that it might be a stellar idea to bring home a souvenir or two. Preferably of the living, furry sort, as we have so few animals. Despite my emphatic veto, we carted back a pair of pitch black, demon sibling kittens, quickly dubbed Audrey and Kreatcher.

Leaving our current tally, in order of size, at: 4 horses, 3 dogs, 3 cats, 1 rabbit and a fish that we keep in case the cats need a midnight snack. His bowl is their main water supply, but thus far he has escaped consumption.

Thanks be to whomever hovers above, Sofia and her cat Kreatcher have their own digs in the city. Lovely, darling girl, but always needing forty of her closest friends over for a beer or twenty. Miss you, honey – but, buh-bye. My daily phone calls keep the reasons for moving out fresh in her mind. Sofia remains employed at our friend’s horse farm, and wields a mighty manure fork. Her horse, Bella, is conveniently stabled there, giving her the opportunity to do something with the thing other than pay its bills.

Zina is officially a licensed stylist, working her way up the hair covered ladder at the salon where she has worked for several years on Newbury Street. She still resides at home and we continue our historical bouts of cold silence interspersed with shouting and tearing of hair. (At least now when I pull out a hunk, she can trim it up for a natural look.) Working full time and maintaining two horses keeps Zina on the run, so texting and emailing are our best forms of communication. Home interactions often consist of a few seconds of nag, yell, thump, and swear, as we pass each other in the hallway – not necessarily in that order.

As for me, things are relentlessly the same. The biggest news is my determined weight loss and fitness in anticipation of my trip to St. Thomas in January. The thought of exposing a white body in the middle of winter is bad enough, without adding all the rest. And it finally occurred to me that while the aging process is completely out of my hands, I have full control of the eating portion of the program. Revised menus along with a very mean Personal Trainer can do wonders! My horse, for one, seems quite appreciative of my downward spiral.

Despite the dismal state of things globally, I’m feeling quite holiday cheer-ish. Even the collapse of our front retaining wall hasn’t dampened my spirits; I just avert my eyes as I pull in the drive. So, in that light, I send you bunches of festive good wishes from all the Baltopoulos creatures, two and four legged. Keep your eyes focused forward and ignore the debris as it falls around you during this holiday season!

xoxo Ruth xoxo