Monday, December 19, 2016

Christmas Letter 2016

The Downing’s 2016 Christmas Letter!

Merry Christmas! The 2016 Downing Christmas letter is finally finished! It’s been a pretty fun year, but a pretty busy one, too. So, take a few minutes and enjoy the ongoing adventures of The Downing Family!

“We must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact that each moment of life is a miracle and mystery.”
-          H. G. Wells (1866 - 1946)

Sick Secret Service Surprise!
2016 started with a work conference sending me to Washington D.C. for the first ever. I was excited, to be sure… but as it turns out I was also sick! How sick, you ask? Well, I spent more time cooling my face against the porcelain throne than in my bed. I found out that getting the stomach flu helps you get over the time change in a hurry, although I don’t recommend it! Turns out that my family back home got the same terrible bug at the same time, so even though we were roughly 2,371.22 miles apart, we were together in our misery.
            When I finally recovered, I had missed the conference but I did manage to go visit some of Oregon’s elected officials and even ride a trolley car under the Capitol building. When the visits with elected officials finished, I found time to tour a couple museums within walking distance. The National Archives was pretty amazing, but when security asked if I was a secret agent, I KNEW it would make my Christmas letter! Ha! I look pretty official in my business suit, apparently.J If you’re wondering, I simply shook my head, declining the opportunity to impersonate a federal agent and enjoy five lovely years in a federal prison.
            Arlington Cemetery proved to be a sobering experience, and I would certainly return to pay tribute to those who sacrificed everything for our country and my freedom. But let’s take a look at the craziness of commuting around D.C., shall we?
            Let me say first that when Cheryl shared her stories of the fast paced, merciless madness of east coast mass transit, I only appeared to be not listening. In fact, I thankfully absorbed details that I put to use from the time I arrived at Ronald Reagan Airport that kept me out of harm’s way. I related the mass movement of hopefully happy hordes to cruising in the fast lane along the interstate. The main stream flow running fast and furious, stays to the left and slow pokes stay to the right, and for goodness sakes DON’T STOP… EVER! Well, that’s not exactly true, but almost. Finding a wall, post, garbage can, small child or alcove is the only place you’ll be safe. I did watch someone come to a full stop in the fast flow, and no less than three people collided with the person in a rather intimate “rear-ending” that created a lot of frustrated easterners. I’m glad I wasn’t involved! I’d have some explaining to do back home.
            Another bit of advice Cheryl shared was escalator etiquette. Similar to the interstate flow described earlier, the fast lane is on the left. I watched someone actually stand on the left side of an escalator, and the confused, frustrated easterners weren’t too polite to that particular individual, and I sensed a serious conflict emerging before my eyes. I did take the liberty of pulling the person to the right by the bicep, which may have very well saved me from being on the witness stand at an assault trial. I can hear the judge now: “Wait a minute… the victim stood on the left side? Who does that!? Case dismissed!” The east coast commuters take their mass transit VERY seriously.
           
Happy Honeymoon!
            When we were married in August, 2007 I’d just started my construction company and Cheryl still ran her ballroom dance business, so we never had an official honeymoon. I did promise her, however that we’d take a honeymoon before our tenth year. Things tend to move rather quickly in life, and suddenly we had our eighth year flying by without any honeymoon in sight! After much thought, we decided that an all-inclusive resort in Puerto Vallarta was just what we needed. We lined up a couple excursion ahead of time but nothing so intensive that we couldn’t enjoy the one thing Cheryl wanted: a hot sandy beach!

            Our adventures included a zip line tour over a beautiful ravine and a horseback ride complete with a short swim at the base of a waterfall that was said to restore 10 years to those who dared to swim into the waterfall. First, the zip line was so much fun! We swam in the cool waters flowing through the ravine after the zipping 300 feet overhead between the trees. Second, the 6-hour horseback ride held two completely different experiences between me and Cheryl. Cheryl’s horse fell in love with her! The horse even pushed through all the other horses just to snuggle with her at one point. They were great pals by the mid-point break! Cheryl knows enough Spanish to make simple, but loving phrases that swooned the horse into a short-term relationship that all others envied.
            My horse was simply a jerk. There, I said it – a jerk. He bullied other horses for going slower than he wanted and provoked a couple kicks toward his head because of his bad attitude. No, I didn’t kick at him, other horses in the pack did. At one point, he turned back toward me and gave me an intimidating “evil eye” that I’m certain worked on other tourists to establish control. I’d like to say I gained the upper hand during the adventure, but I’d be lying to myself and all my readers. The horse fought me all the way back to the ranch, and gave me no warm goodbye when we parted company. Not like Cheryl’s horse did…. Remember, they were enamored with each other, whereas my horse was a bully through and through. Oh, I did swim under the magical waterfall! I certainly had years washed away from my features, but letting a 30-foot-high waterfall smack against my bald head added those years right back on, and probably even more. Ouch!
            One thing we did regularly was take to the dance floor in the little cantina at the hotel almost every night! The live music and free drinks were outstanding, and we got to dance Salsa, Cha-cha, rumba, swing, and probably more that I don’t quite remember. We did pretty well, I’d say, until I found the tequila buffet… yep, you got that right A TEUILA BUFFET!!! Woo Hoo! Well, my care free imbibing didn’t do any favors for my dance moves, and I had to stop once I sent Cheryl into a fantastic triple spin… and, well…. almost forgot to catch her! Cheryl is simply fantastic on the dance floor, and got some great attention during our meals and when hanging out by the pool. Simply put, she’s pretty awesome! She’d tell you that they noticed me, too, which is to say that a 6’4” bald gringo on the dance floor with a highly skilled and playfully artistic Latin dancer just isn’t a common sight to behold.
Quick Draw
            This year we introduced Cheryl to her very first weapon, which does not include her potentially lethal fingernails. She bought a Ruger .22 caliber semi-automatic handgun early in 2016, and she was initially scared to even hold it, let alone shoot it. It was so cute! J Well, with careful, patient introduction and training she got pretty good with it and even learned how to break it down for cleaning and reassembly with ease. A police officer at the practice range advised her to upgrade for personal defense and challenged her to fire one full magazine using my 9mm Ruger. She grimaced but accepted the challenge. 12 rounds into the 17 rounds the weapon holds proved to be tiring, even to the point of her calling my gun a “clown gun” for the seemingly never ending ammunition it held. She finished the 17 rounds and found herself suddenly inspired to upgrade to her own, smaller 9mm. We now both enjoy the benefit of several 9mm semi-automatic handguns in our arsenal, along with licenses to carry concealed.
            We’ve invested in several different types of holsters, and practice drawing and firing on targets in life-like settings. Turns out that Cheryl can not only draw quicker than I can, but she’s more accurate on the quick draw, too! I didn’t know I married a Special Forces marksman until that very moment. I’m good on the quick draw, but if I have a moment to steady myself, I’m accurate well beyond the typical range of a handgun. I would like to note that Cheryl grew comfortable with her .22 caliber so fast before she upgraded to a 9mm, I’m anticipating she’ll want an AR-15 in a couple months and possibly a stinger missile, bazooka or even a truck-mounted 50-caliber machine gun for her birthday.
            It’s Time to Paint
            You might recall that Cheryl started a residential interior/ exterior / cabinet painting company in the summer of 2015. Well, 2016 proved to be a fantastic year for her fledgling business, leaving happy customers in her wake as she paints the city and surrounding communities any shade of color they like. In fact, online rankings place her the 2nd highest rated painter in Salem, not that I’m bragging on her J. Don’t let the long fancy nails, red-striped hair or high heels fool you, either! She is skilled and directly engaged on every part of the projects, and you’ll be hard pressed to find her idle at any given moment of the day. Most likely, you’ll find her comfortably climbing ladders and scaling roof tops to heights that make me dizzy even thinking about!
Want to see some projects she’s done? Check out http://timetopaint.biz/gallery 
            Back to school!
            One of the primary reasons we pushed for our honeymoon this year was because I entered my intensive MBA program in August of this year. The fact that I would need to focus on school for almost 18 months straight stood as a stark reminder that the 10-year commitment of our honeymoon needed to be fulfilled or might easily be pushed off as collateral damage of my educational pursuit. The first series of classes is now finished, and I’m enjoying a short Christmas break before starting again in January, but it’s interesting that each class directly related to events in the world or my work. Specifically, the presidential elections and economic policies, and even the human resources management class. I’m happy to say that I’m holding a rather high grade point average while working full time and managing to not abandon my family too much. It’s not easy but I know it’ll be worth it, and it’s actually pretty fun!
            Blasted Bees!
            This summer I found out that I’m still allergic to stings. Yep, my left shoulder was the target of a particularly nasty one that was sent to defend its queen from my hammering while I stood at the top of an extension ladder against the back of the house. I fortunately kept my balance as I swatted the beast away, making it safely down the ladder and into the house. Within minutes, I felt my left arm and shoulder start to turn numb and swell as I raced to find my Epi-Pen. I nonchalantly called Cheryl to tell her I was injecting myself with epinephrine in the thigh before driving myself to the ER.
As I drove the 15 minutes or so to the hospital, I found my heart racing like mad and just as I got out of my car I began feeling dizzy and a bit sick. The ER was busy and I was told that if I went into shock or had a heart attack in the waiting areas I should let someone know. REALLY!? More than two hours later I was brought into the back where they concluded that my system went crazy when the venom mixed with the epinephrine. They said it was a pretty rough ride on my heart and to get looked at later. In the end, my heart stood strong but those bees just won’t die! The exterminators made four attempts, and though they killed many of their clan I think the queen may still be alive… somewhere… waiting… watching… to rebuild once again.
            A Tree of Generous Proportions
            Every year that we head out get a Christmas tree I mentally brace myself for a series of negotiations with Cheryl. You see, the year I met her she got a Christmas tree that was so tall it scratched the vaulted ceilings in her third-floor apartment, and it almost sent her over the railing as we muscled it up the three flights of stairs, too. It was so tall that when Christmas was over, I cut it into pieces before throwing it off her patio instead of wrestling it again. I counted myself fortunate that we had a structural height restriction in the houses we’ve owned since we got married, but our current house has a rather tall ceiling and I knew Cheryl would want to maximize every bit of space available. That’s where the negotiations would be focused.
            When we made our way across the local tree farm, I began to take note of the challenges I would most likely face while dragging her prize back to the truck. It started with a long meadow, across a walking bridge, over another long meadow that rose to an asphalt road before beginning the sharp incline where the trees waited for the lottery system of being chosen to die that day to fit into a random family’s Christmas décor.
            When we made it to the road, I pointed to the nearest group of well-shaped trees and suggested we look at the beautiful grand nobles at our fingertips. Without pause, Cheryl, Sophia and Sophia’s friend simply politely declined and started their march up the hillside to where the old-growth trees stood. Cheryl’s eye for extra-large, super-sized trees never ceases to amaze and trouble me, and my one successful attempt at negotiating simply fell to the fact that the trunk was far too big to fit in our tree stand. I made a note of my success, hoping to use it several more times, but to my dismay she and the girls continued their march up the hillside toward even older, larger trees.
            Cheryl and the girls found a massive tree with a trunk that was a bit smaller than the one earlier rejected, and my ace-in-the-hole failed to steer them away from the brute. As I began the never-ending labor of sawing the gargantuan grand noble, Cheryl pushed against the trunk until we managed to topple it to the ground. I knew this would be the easy part, and I dreaded the long haul back.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, Cheryl found a nearby family to negotiate a labor trade on behalf of the husbands. He would help me and I would help him, and both families would have their trees manhandled to their respective vehicles in a jiffy.
            There weren’t that many people looking for trees that rainy day, but I wished she would’ve looked for the biggest dad possible to make labor deals with because my new labor buddy was about half my size. You’d think dragging the tree downhill would be easy, but through the mud and over severed trunks, dragging the thing was a huge ordeal! I should mention that this tree easily weighs 400 pounds, if not more.
            We fought it down the hill, over the road, through the meadow, over the foot bridge and into the final meadow before heaving it into Cheryl’s truck. We took no less than six breaks along the way to catch our breath and grieve the position we were in. When we returned up the hill to fetch his tree, I delighted in the fact that his tree was dainty and weighed almost nothing compared to Cheryl’s tree. Unabashedly, I told him I envied his tree and was greatly jealous of him at the moment we picked it up and began our quick march to his car.
            When we got back to our house, we wrestled the thing out of the truck and gave it a good bath before leaning it under our covered porch for the night to dry. It was so large there was no way to actually reach the front door! Cheryl expressed a concern that the tree might get stolen overnight as we waited for it to dry, and I figured that if someone decided to try to nab this prized possession, they’d be laid out on the lawn with any number of back injuries so they’re welcome to give it a try. The next morning, I looked around hoping to find some over ambitious criminals trapped beneath the behemoth, but alas the tree stood silent and alone.
I found out the base was indeed too big for our tree stand and I cut the trunk down to pound the stand into place. We pulled the beast through the front door and stood it in the front room, and we even added restraining wire and high-strength fishing line to keep it straight. The glorious grand noble stood nearly 12 feet tall!

That night, a very large, very angry hornet erupted out of the tree and sent Cheryl and Sophia running to a safe hiding spot while I pulled out my hornet spray and marched confidently into battle for glory and honor. My opponent sized me up with a couple close fly-by’s, but I managed to catch it in mid-air with a stream of death from my trusty spray can. In an attempt to evade my spray, it landed on top of a tall window sill to plan its next attack. Recognizing that I had my enemy in a vulnerable position, I drenched it and the entire surrounding area in my poisonous spray. To my surprise and respect, the hornet reared back on its hind legs to flare its mighty wings and reach out toward me with its front legs. This worthy opponent, despite the pain it endured, continued to fight until the bitter end! Finally, it dropped to the floor where I pummeled it do death. No, I didn’t crush it… nor did it die of poison overload… it went out in a blaze of glory like a true warrior of its kind. Well done, my mighty foe… well done.
            One final note about the tree is that it started falling over during our annual tree trimming party! The powerful angel on top held it initially in place against the ceiling until a team of quick responders helped me get it lassoed to the wall once and for all. Cheryl agreed that the tree was just a tad bit too big, and that next year we’ll be sure to look for one more reasonably sized. I would like to note that I know my wife quite well and we’ll most certainly be involved in a series of negotiations where she will confidently proclaim that I tend to exaggerate things and that it couldn’t be that bad…
            Ring around the Mixer
            As the Christmas season approached, I found myself taking a day off from work one day to focus on a rather large school assignment. I stopped for a few minutes to chat with Cheryl as she mixed up a batch of amazingly delicious chocolate cookies in her Kitchen-Aid power mixer. I turned my back for a moment, only to hear the mixer motor come to a dramatic stop followed by words that sounded something like “HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP!!!” I turned to find Cheryl’s wedding ring had caught on the mixer paddle, pulling her hand and forearm into the mixer like she was hugging the cookie dough paddle. I managed to release her ring from the paddle, but the damage to her arm was obvious. Urgent care said the bones weren’t broken, although she tore up everything else in her wrist and forearm pretty good. On a positive note, the mixer didn’t break the skin and the cookie dough was saved!
            While it was indeed fortunate I was standing by her, she was suddenly and painfully reduced to one arm as she raced to finish the final stages of food and decorating for our annual tree trimming party. I would like to thank those who stopped by to help her make the annual party a great success! As the year comes to a close, her arm is still giving her grief but we’re hopeful for a speedy recovery in the New Year.
            Looking forward
            I suspect 2017 has some change in the winds, although what it is I do not know. I do know that 2016 was a pretty good year and we’ll cherish the memories we made and look forward to building new ones as time rolls on. Sophia, who just turned four will continue growing smarter, taller and more wonderful every day, even when she’s exercising her feisty independence. Cheers to all our friends, new and old! Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!  J

With all our love,


The Downing’s

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