Christmas Letter

Christmas Letter

Once more, I waited until the last possible moment to do the family Christmas letter. On the plus side, this year I have a blog to post on, so that is something, I guess.

Not much new on the homestead.  Charlotte is getting blinder each year. You really know you’re alive when a morbidly obese German Shepherd of indeterminate age blindly runs into the back of your knees before you have your morning coffee.  She gets a bit excited when it’s time for the animals to line up for their morning medications at the Cartino Ranch and Hospice for aged and disabled critters.

Hercules is still making the rounds on his worn-out hips.  I keep his dog's wheelchair in the garage on standby. I don’t want to set it up prematurely and cause him to spin into a depression.  He looks ferocious, but any burglar would have to get within biting range of his memory foam dog bed. 

Sugar is still with us, seventeen? Eighteen? We are not sure.  She is now blind in the one eye she had left, and she is deaf. She has two teeth left, unfortunately, one sticks out of the left side of her mouth and one out of the right.  We diagnosed her with doggy dementia a while back. She forgets what she is doing while eating her mush and often needs to be reintroduced to her feed bowl.

Eeyore the bunny is not immune to time either.  She is no longer the grey streak that would run through the house, eating phone charger cords and my shoes. I have long ago forgiven her for eating my best pair of soft leather shoes and I no longer threaten her that I will get another gray rabbit just like her and shove my feet up their asses to wear them to work.  We have reached a truce.

Zeze has been with us a couple of Christmas Eves now.  Although the vet calls her a “senior” cat, we haven’t told her yet.  I might mention it some morning when she sits on my pillow and slaps my face at six a.m., every morning, even at weekends.  She fits in with us at the Cartino Rancho Bizarro, stealing the dog bed during the day and sleeping on the bath mat each evening. The three minority humans have become skilled at Petris, twisting our feet and bodies into unusual shapes to accommodate lounging animals, so we can now comfortably use the toilet from any angle necessary to avoid disturbing the cat.

Gracie, a.k.a. Catzilla, is still sucking back the cat kibble and living out a good life.  Her main occupation is either scratching the furniture or sitting next to the dog bed and slapping at Hercules’ giant German Shepherd ears.  Sometimes when he sighs in the exasperation of a mother with a two-year-old, I say to him, “Been there too, buddy, been there too.”   Some days, Lilly takes Gracie out for a walk, and vice versa.  Not sure what occurs on those strolls, I hear a lot of “No Gracie!” and neither one looks happy or relaxed afterwards.

We lost Stephen Hawking to that big parakeet cage in the sky.  Albert Einstein was distraught with grief, according to Lilly.  So, John and Lilly picked up Sunshine, a bit of a flower child, bright yellow, a Vegas kind of parakeet. Lilly tells me that they are attached, but when I go to Lilly’s room, I usually find Sunshine in her bathtub singing and splashing, and Einstein giving her the side eye. I’m sure Einstein plans to outlive the interloper out of spite.

We have one lonely, embittered old fish in the fifty-gallon tank.  We have discussed getting more fish, but on this point, no one is committed.  I have resolved to reduce the pets through attrition and not get any more after these are gone.  I guess we'll start with fish: baby steps, people, baby steps.

Lilly did a thing this year, well, she did a lot of things as usual.  

Lilly also went on a weekend camping field trip in Death Valley.  She brought back a giant quartz from non-park land, so it was legal, and the pride that when the desert winds blew over her classmate’s tents, hers stood upright.  She made many day trips across the Vegas Valley, collecting soil and water samples.  This is her adult version of “I’m cooking with mud, Mama!”   Two more semesters and then the big decision: graduate school immediately or work for a while.  She’s applied for a paid internship in the mines near Ely, NV.  The team is excited to have her application; they've had difficulty finding earth science majors willing to work in their environmental impact laboratory, even though the nearest Walmart is only a three-hour drive.  She just finished a course on consulting to clean up ecological disaster sites.  The big research paper at the end of the semester required the students to choose a site with a negative environmental impact and remediate the damage.  In a proud mothering moment, as she mulled which site to work with, I suggested she look up brownfield and E.P.A. sites in central Minnesota. She found a myriad of sites to work with, but ever since then, she has suggested I get “testing” done and looks at me suspiciously. Lilly got a 100% on the paper, but I get pitying looks from my daughter every time I forget something.

Lilly continues to dance, do yoga, and do Pilates every chance she gets. She usually does ballet, but it looks like next year there will be Salsa dancing.  She invited me to join her dance classes, and we had a good laugh together. 

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Between classes and her job as a research assistant, dance classes, and hanging out with friends, Lilly didn’t have a chance to volunteer at the hospital this year.  She came and manned the cotton-candy booth at the Trunk & Treat we held this year.

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I am the one dressed as Elvis.  She handed out cotton candy, and I got to hang out with the Director of Nurses’ twin toddlers.  Lilly told me later that, while watching me, she thought, “Hey, Mom is pretty good with kids.”  Her surprise takes the shine off the compliment.

John and I had two quick trips to Minnesota this summer.  We went to see one of his friends who is in hospice care.  John and Mark had grown up together, and it was eerie to see how alike they looked and acted. I was able to see some friends that I have not seen in too long a time, Murphy and Joyce, as well as family.  We spent hours into the night at Greg’s house, drinking coffee and talking. 

It was wonderful to see the lakes, the green, and the trees again.  On the second trip, we were talking about moving back to Minnesota after Lilly graduates.  Then, a few hours out of Wyoming on the way home, we hit rain, slush, and snow while driving through the mountains.  As the fear and anxiety sucked the upholstery on the car seat up into my butt, I recalled why we live in Nevada.

Mark and John

John is still working at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. Each semester, as a member of the registrar’s team, he helps orchestrate students' graduations.  Each semester, he gets to think, “someday, that’s going to be my kid.” He loves his job; he works with Excel spreadsheets regularly, and apparently, to John, that’s living the dream. It’s a good thing he likes his job; with Lilly planning a Ph.D., he is going to have to work forever to keep the employee enrichment tuition rate for family members.

We didn’t take any vacations this year to exotic locations.  We acquired first-hand knowledge of the truck stop bathrooms in Utah, Wyoming, South Dakota, and Minnesota. In our cupboard at this very moment rest matching Pilot truck stop coffee mugs. Fifteen years together, and we still know how to have a good time together. What can I say? When we are away from home, John spares no expense to spoil me.

I am still working at Harmon Hospital. I'm in my eighth year there now. I work with a great staff, and I am truly blessed to work there. Each day is different, and there is never a dull moment at Harmon. 

Oh, I wrote a book.  And I am dabbling in three more at the moment. I want to write a book about my work experiences as a nurse, a counselor, and an administrator. Everyone who works in the mental health field has days when they declare, “I could write a book,” so I want to write that book.  I am also working on a book about the nursing home industry and how to untangle the jargon and regulations.  

Living in Vegas, our social life is wild and intense.  More than once this past year, we stayed up past 10:30 PM watching Dateline. We always make time for our romantic Barnes & Noble dates.   “Oh, look at that sweet old couple holding hands in a bookstore, isn’t that cute?”   He’s only holding my hands, so I can’t buy more books.

We are waiting breathlessly for the new Smiths grocery store to open in the neighborhood. There is always something going on in the valley to keep us intrigued.  I cannot overemphasize the thrill and excitement of living in the party capital of the world.  Just the other day, I saw a van decorated with the “Dancing Dreidels” advertisement. When the rodeo was in town, I saw a pickup advertising the latest Billy Bob Thornton series, “The Landman”.  

All in all, it's been a good year for the Cartino family. We meet every day with love and laughter.  No one has been in the hospital, no surgeries, no emergency room visits, so this year has been a winner. Tonight, we will be up late, wrapping Christmas presents.  Some may say it's because we procrastinate to the last minute, but I prefer to think the rush and stress add to the magic of Christmas.

Wishing all friends and family a joyous Holiday. May your cat stay out of the ornaments on the tree. Remember not to step on the train tracks under the tree with your bare feet!

Love, 

June, John, & Lilly