For
those of you who have been the unwilling and/or unwitting recipients of this
end-of-year epistle in the past, you know that you usually reach the end of
reading it even more confused than when you began. It’s sort of like if you packed for a big
trip while heavily medicated: once you’ve reached your destination, you open
your suitcase to find that you’ve ONLY packed three different shoes (all for
the left foot), an oven mitt, and the centerpiece from your dining room table;
and your carry-on is full of nothing but chocolate chip cookie dough. Well, you’ve been warned – read on.
Sam
has had four major events take place in his life this past year: (1) he finished his first year of high school
back in May; (2) he made the honor roll both semesters in his freshman year;
(3) he obtained his learner’s permit back in August; and (4) he has surpassed
his old man in height. While the last
item isn’t exactly something he had much “control” in accomplishing, we think
it might be the one of which he’s most proud.
(Not to steal his thunder, but it’s very possible that his father is
shrinking – so he got some help on that one.)
We had the chance to attend an awards ceremony for his honor roll
accomplishment, and while we were beaming with pride to see our son being
recognized for his hard work, we were also a bit surprised to learn that there
are twelve different ways to spell “Courtney” – for both guys and girls, some
of which defy all rules of phonics and cultural traditions.
Earlier
this year, we were . . . shocked, frankly, to learn that not only did Jack get
accepted to two colleges with great engineering programs but received a
scholarship to one of them. A month or
two later, he received his assignment to serve a two-year mission for our
church in Iquitos, Peru. All of this was
done BEFORE he had actually graduated from high school, which he did,
fortunately. With his college options
and scholarship deferred, Jack spent the summer getting himself ready to depart
for Peru in August. Many of these
preparations were arduous and exacting, which included going to the local
doughnut shop and setting a record for the number of doughnut holes he could
stuff in his mouth. (The number is 15
for those of you are up for a challenge.)
One of the other things he had done to prepare himself was taking our
Ford Ranger off a jump – he admitted this to us at the airport on the day of
his departure. He’s now in Iquitos where
it rains 10 feet/year, and he’s eaten grilled anteater. Send him an email at greene.jackson@myldsmail.net.
Erin
got roped into heading up the women’s organization at church this year, which
means Sam and I have to make ourselves scarce at the house on occasion so Erin
can have women come over to eat cake and talk about secret women stuff. We’re fairly sure they’re plotting an
overthrow of a small third-world country – for the good of the people, of
course. Earlier this year, I had enough
grey hair appear in my head to cause the folks at church to bump me up to the
oldest men’s organization – you don’t get out of this one alive, if you know
what I mean.
Our
door is always open to you. Even though,
as I write this, it’s warmer in New York City than here, this is still a great
place to visit. Be careful how you pack,
but rest assured: we’ll make good use of the chocolate chip cookie dough.
