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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