Recently, as I was driving home from work, I drove by a sign on the side of the road that read “Goat Yoga”. Yes, you read that correctly: Goat Yoga. Now, I’m not sure if this was advertising a service to help stressed-out goats recenter themselves and find their chi or if this was a class for practitioners of this eastern discipline led by a goat - either one sounds like a fairly devilish way to separate people from their money. While I have no idea what your average goat has going in his or her life that would cause unusually high levels of stress making necessary the need for a transcendental and calming experience every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, or what exactly one of our hairy four-legged friends has to do to be a certified teacher of yoga, I’m sure you’re having similar questions about why you’re spending the next five minutes of your life reading about the Greene family. Let me know what conclusions you draw.
In July, Sam started his senior year in high school. Yes, his SENIOR year. We recently attended a seminar being given by a representative from the state on what to expect while applying for a specific scholarship, and it’s highly likely that we were the only parents in that room who were born speaking English as their first language. It was a very strange experience, to say the least. With brains he must have obtained from someplace other than the collective DNA bank on offer from Erin and me, Sam got a job working in the IT department for a local company, and he really enjoys it. With this job and the increased availability of hours to work, he’s bringing home a healthy paycheck for a high school student - good thing, too, because Sam has developed a penchant for shoes. While he’s no Imelda Marcos, we seem to find him wearing a new pair each time we turn around.
In the same month that Sam started his senior year in high school, Jack came home from his mission in Peru. When we greeted him at the airport, he wasn’t decked out in a nice, newly dry-cleaned suit and spit-shined shoes; rather, he was wearing a short-sleeve shirt that had once been white with a fraying collar and shoes with holes in the soles large enough to smuggle a Peruvian child (don’t worry, they checked him in customs in Dallas: no Peruvian child). Fret not, Jack was also wearing pants - that would have been quite the Facebook post if he hadn’t. VERY SOON after his return home, Jack started at ASU in the engineering program. He just finished his first semester, and it looks like they’re going to allow him to go for a second one. Fingers crossed.
Erin is in her second year at the library over at one of the local high schools. She recently learned that one young man found eating a hamburger under a table in the library provided a more satisfying culinary experience than, say, in the cafeteria. It must have something to do with the forbidden nature of the affair - now I’m beginning to see what was going through Eve’s mind with the apple. Erin continues to be the head honcho for the women’s organization at church, so don’t cross her. Faster than you can whistle “Despacito”, she can have you and your family stuffed with enough casserole and Jell-O to give you heartburn that lasts for a week.
As for me, I continue to lose and find weight fairly regularly - I’m definitely finding more than I’m losing, so I’ve got that going for me. If you or one of your family members is one of those freaks who “can’t gain weight”, come spend a week with me - I’m confident my “regimen” will help you say otherwise.
As always, we hope this finds you warm and well in this holiday season (your personal body temperature and overall well-being at other times of the year, frankly, don’t concern us). Drop us a line or stop by to say hello - the goat yoga class may be accepting new students.
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