Christmas Letter 2013
"No
trumpets sound when the important decisions of our life are made. Destiny is
made known silently."
~ Agnes de
Mille (1909 - 1993)
December
2012 failed to deliver the end of the world, as some thought the Mayan calendar
indicated. The grim outlook of that ancient calendar turned out to be the best
practical joke EVER!!! High-five to the
Mayans! I wonder if there’s anything I could do today to shake up the world in
4023. Yoda, the wise Jedi Master would say, ‘Do or do not. There is no try’. I
will need to learn how to chisel a stone calendar, I think.
Boat
One fine day in June, I walked with my lovely wife and baby through our neighborhood, pleasantly commenting on the wide variety of landscape options and noting some of the homes that topped our list of houses we’d like to live in. As we strolled along, we noted that a neighbor on our street had a small for sale sign on his boat, which I had admired since we moved in. Spotting the owner, Cheryl called out to him to see if a tour would be possible. Not knowing exactly what she intended, I gladly joined her in the tour as the owner proudly displayed his well-maintained, family watercraft.
Within minutes, Cheryl asked him what his lowest price would be. Surprised by the direct question, he tossed out a partially audible, non-committal response that loosely translated into “Um, I dunno.” Cheryl, in her great wisdom suggested an offer too low for serious consideration. To Cheryl’s delight, he gave the lowest offer he could accept, which proved to be an amazing deal! The warm summer breeze carried her parting words, “Thanks! We’re going to talk about it and get back to you soon.”
One short
outing set William in the pilot’s seat after getting his boater’s license with
an A+ on the exam. During that initial run, which I regret waiting to install
the depth finder, I directed William to an area of the river that turned out to
be a gravel bar only a couple feet deep. The shocking sensation of the
propeller grinding into sharpened nubs where blades used to be proved quite
alarming to both of us. Fortunately, I carried all the tools required to
install the depth finder as we anchored at the river’s edge. Unfortunately, the
river held an average depth of 5 feet! Realizing this outing needed to end
immediately, we motored upstream toward the dock, but within seconds we
recognized our stubby bladed propeller wasn’t as bad as the smoking engine of a
fellow boater that had just zoomed by.
We had a
fine pleasure of towing our comrades with our handicapped boat back to the
dock, because our engine still worked! I did find out that changing a
propeller’s blade pitch by only 2 degrees is the difference between 4 mph and
40 mph on the water. I finally found a propeller that matched the original, and
danced happily upon Oregon’s beautiful reservoirs, leaving the rivers to
kayaks.
When the neighbor sold us the boat, he eagerly shared these wise words, “The happiest days of a man’s life is when he buys a boat, and when he sells it.” He shared these deep words not just once, but no less than five times, each proclamation presented as if they’d never been heard before, complete with hearty chuckles to emphasize the statement. Turns out, for me, neither are true.
The day I bought the boat, these historic, philosophical words came to mind: “I have a boat.” The day I sold the boat, these words floated into my heart and mind from far beyond this physical reality we know to be true: “I don’t have a boat.” Mind shattering, right? Where my neighbor parted ways with his family’s watercraft under the superpower of Cheryl’s negotiating skills, I stayed fast to the selling price and brought in a nice profit because of it. A pilot from Canada bought the boat and is apparently playing with it at a lake house he owns. Maybe the purchase was the happiest day of his life.
Salmon
My fishing
adventures for several years now have been anything but successful. I am a man
that watches water, and others actually catch fish. Yes, I cast my line. No, I
don’t catch fish. Cheryl and William, in their well-articulated Neanderthal
dialect, say it very straight, “Man go. Look at water.” This statement relieves
me of the need to stop by a local market to buy a fish and pretend I caught it,
which I appreciate.
This fall,
a friend of mine, who is an expert killer of any fish willing to risk swimming
in a river he’s standing near, invited me to go with him to the Alsea River
heading toward the coast. The salmon runs were strong this year, and he said if
I didn’t catch anything, he would give me some frozen Chinook from his home.
The first day out, I broke my years of watching water, and pulled in a young
salmon apparently called a Jack. When I say I pulled Jack in, I actually yanked
him out of the water, flying over my shoulder, flopping heavily on the sandy
river bank where my friend stood with the net in hand. A nearby fellow
fisherman exclaimed how unsportsmanlike my technique was, and that I should
have more respect for the art of catching fish. Really? If sending a salmon
airborne isn’t a work of art, I don’t know what is.
Proud of
my flying catch, I made my way home to set Jack on display for my wife to enjoy.
My work pulled me away to several banquets that week, leaving Cheryl to dine
with Jack while I sampled a variety of Jack's brothers among my working peers.
A couple
weeks later, I returned to the same river with the same friend and continued my
successful journey to bear the title ‘fisherman’. This time, I pulled in a big
fat Coho salmon, bright and shiny chrome that hardly fought as I slid his great
chubbiness into the net. No airborne antics for this guy.
Within an
hour, I hooked a fine Chinook that fought like a true champion. The thrills of
my day translated into nearly 40 lbs. of fresh salmon!
Front yard
The summer
days brought forth another home project to landscape the entire front area. The
transition from overgrown rhododendrons and rolling grass areas to concrete
pavers and several retaining walls proved to be a rather hefty project after
all. The goal to finish the project before September seemed reasonable at the
beginning, but time disappears and concrete doesn’t. While I looked upon the
deadline with trepidation, an opportunity to achieve the goal came into our
sites in the form of a young couple bartering her hubby’s labor for ballroom
dance lessons. Through the workings of Cheryl’s renowned negotiating skills,
the young couple got their dance-dreams fulfilled, and we had our projects put
ahead of schedule!
Several
phases of the front yard still remain, including a bubbling water feature using
the trunk of the tree that stands in the courtyard, planting, lighting, and
Cheryl’s favorite: a French style sitting area in the brick courtyard. OoLaLa!
Babycakes
Babycakes
turned one on December 8th, and what a wonderful year it’s been
having her around! The roll of foster parents isn’t an easy one at times, and
there are certainly issues we’ve worked through relating to the weekly visits
the biological parents continue to engage in, but it is well worth the effort
to help little babycakes get the best foot forward in life. At this time, we've promised to keep pictures of Babycakes away from the social media, so if you would like a picture you'll need to ask.
Having a newborn brought on the pure
agony of waking every two hours that couldn't be put behind us fast enough! The
simple joy of getting her first laugh caught in a photo, the cheers of her
first successful rollover, and the sudden realization that she started rolling
over AND crawling within an hour of each other made it all worthwhile. And all the artsy stuff around
the house move up or out of her reach in a great hurry as well. Now, our house is littered with stray toys and blocks and a variety of musical toys of happiness.
She taught
us her own special sign language, which began like an Italian connoisseur
waving her right hand above her head, fingertips joined to thumb as if to say “Questa รจ deliziosa” (this
is delicious), which we translated immediately into “MORE MUFFIN!!!” She’s
introduced us to another sign that says “I don’t want any more food… AND I’M
SERIOUS!” which is essentially displayed by her left hand swatting food to the
floor, and anything that comes close to her lips is rejected forcefully. She’s
not afraid to let us know how she feels, which may be a challenge as the years
pass.
Recently, she’s made progress with her first words, which included ‘hi’, ‘wow’, ‘momma’, and ‘dad’. It’s become startlingly clear that she comprehends far more than she can communicate, which means I need to be VERY careful what I say around her. Cheryl capitalizes on Babycakes' crawling position and chases her around the house like a mother lioness would a cub. Babycakes isn't quite fast enough yet, and is bowled over (in a soft, baby-like manner) as Cheryl pounces! The giggles of both Babycakes and Cheryl can be heard throughout the house, along with wild, animalistic declarations of victory... and that's just Babycakes!
As of
mid-December, 2013 we’re still working with the State as Foster parents to
Babycakes. The first couple months of 2014 will decide the path the State will
take with her, whether she returns to the biological parents or transfers to an
adoption track. We have no idea what the future holds, but we’re madly in love
with little Babycakes and always will be. Of course, if the opportunity to
adopt her arises, we’ll be the first to raise our hands.
Sir William
William entered his senior year of high school this year, and is looking forward to sporting his cap and gown to walk across that stage in June. He is proud to be big brother to Babycakes, and they both light up when he’s comes over. They get along amazingly well, and he’s shown how well he understands the needs of a little baby. If fact, he’s embraced the opportunities to care for her every need, short of bathing her. He’ll be a great dad someday!
Books
My
children’s book, Pickle-itis launched throughout the digital world early in
2013. The initial wave proved exciting, and to see it available online in
Croatia, New Zealand, India, Australia, and even South Africa made this appear
easier than I ever thought. The biggest concern isn’t getting the book out to
the world; it’s getting people to actually buy it. Marketing, as with any
business venture, is the most difficult thing to do while working full time and
restricted to a limited budget.
Then one day, on a short lunch
break, my mind brought forth a poetic story that poured from my heart onto six
pages of verse and rhyme that made me laugh aloud as it appeared on the pages
before me. The story, originally named Princess Flo, held all the makings of
the ‘little girl’ story Cheryl asked me to write for Babycakes, save one thing:
Flaming Farts!
The first
person hearing the story read aloud laughed to the point of tears, which is my
greatest reward as a writer. The title, sadly, brought forth connections to
menstrual cycles rather than a fragile princess needing to be rescued by a
valiant knight. After much pondering, I
changed the title to Stench and Steed: A Valiant Deed, which is the only thing
edited from the original creation.
The
illustrator is absolutely amazing, and is passionate about making this project
a work of art and serious fun. He’s like a little kid with his excitement, but
a true professional in his skills and talents. As the book continues to
develop, I am promoting the story and bits of art wherever and whenever
possible. For example, a men’s retreat invited me to read the story to over 45
guys of all ages, complete with a couple images displayed on a full wall while
I read to the group. To my delight, the room filled with manly laughter and
promises to buy the book when it’s available. We're hoping to have it available in March, 2014. Oh, visit www.jfdowning.com!
~ Lewis
Carroll (1832 - 1898), Alice in Wonderland
The
mysteries of the days ahead are delightfully left to the imagination, and my
mind’s eye delivers delicious optimism for things to come. I rest in faith,
family, peace, and prosperity, and an abundance of dark red wine that slow
dances with my soul after every sip. Those things believed to be impossible are
showing themselves to be possible, and this coming year, God willing, will be a
fantastic journey to tell the tale to those willing to read through the letters
each season.
John,
Cheryl and Family