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