What do you say?

I don’t mean when it comes to the here and now,  I don’t often have any difficulties coming up with something to say, even if half the time it’s dreary drivel.

Like right now!

What I’m talking about is one of those chores that I feel I need to do from time to time,  as relates to keeping in touch with certain outlying members of my family.   By “outlying”, I mean geographically. 

Most everyone has internet.  Even one of my brothers who has a hobby farm in rural Annapolis Valley uses Skype to see his grand-daughter way out in Washington State from time to time.  By the way,  that previous statement would be like me saying, “Yes,  tomorrow we’re going to the moon”,  and meaning it.   It was not too many years ago that there wasn’t even a hint of a computer in their house,  so I’m always ever so slightly amazed at these technological developments.

See, Christmas Card season is upon us,  and the question always come up,  “Aren’t you going to put a letter in that one?”. *groan*  This is for another brother who lives in a remote little spot way down past Digby. (Nova Scotia).

It’s a little place called Meteghan, and I have been known to use some colourful phrases to describe it,  but I won’t be putting any of those here.  That would just be mean.   He doesn’t have internet.  I think he has a phone,  but since he’s as deaf as a post,  calling him would be fraught with frustration.  Even when he had a hint of hearing say,  ten years ago,  the timbre of my voice was such that entire chucks of speech would be missing.  I gave up.

So earlier today,  I sat down here to write him a brief letter.  (funny,  but the German word for letter is “Brief”,  neat, huh?)   The tricky bit is of course,  you don’t want to end up with one page and a bit,  or even (God forbid) two pages,  and a bit,  since these are printed pages after all,  so you have to try to get whatever it is you want to say into the body of a reasonably full page.   That is of course,  if you have anything to say at all.

Here’s the thing.   Many years ago,  when I was perhaps in my teens, it wouldn’t have been too much of a stretch to say that I had looked up to this particular brother.  He seemed to have it together.  Or so I thought.  I mean,  he was always buying and selling stuff,  and making money (or at least I thought),  and that was the way it was for a number of years.   Skip ahead a few years,  when it just so happened that Travelling Companion was working on her degree in Economics  (Honours,  by the way) and he came to our place for a visit.  At some point during that visit, he basically let on that he didn’t think that that sort of higher education was worth the effort.    Hm.

I don’t remember exactly what he said,  but I remember standing there watching my estimation of him sadly fall to the floor. 

So do you see my problem?  What do I say to the guy? Do I ask, “Hey, how’s life in that shack you’re living in?” (and it is) “Did you get enough wood cut for the stove?”  “It’s sure nice here in Vienna.  We just went to an opera, (took the BMW of course)  and MAN was it FAN-TASTIC”.  

Again,  that would just be mean.  Although I have been tempted.

Talk about “writer’s block”.  Holy Moly. 

I did send off a letter last January I think it was,  since I didn’t put anything in with the Christmas Card.  My bad,  I know.  We DID get a Christmas Card from him and his lady friend,  so that was something,  but when it comes to getting any kind of response to a letter,  it’s a big black hole.    One time,  I even sent a letter to the other brother up in the Annapolis Valley,  since I had heard that they were paying a visit to take their semi-annual bath,  and figured if the letter were hand delivered,  then at least I’d know it had arrived.   Still no response.

That’s probably just fine and dandy in the grander scheme of things,  since the last time he ever wrote to me,  it was a 12 page hand scribbled bunch of rambling gibberish written in PENCIL.   This was when we were living in Puerto Rico,  and that letter arrived at our house in Burlington.  Not really understanding the difficulty involved,  I asked my daughter if she would please transcribe it into an email and send it to me.  She’s never forgiven me.   In hind sight I think she would have been more willing to clean out the gutters on the house instead,  even though she’s deathly afraid of heights.   Just a hunch.

Anyway,  I got that chore out of the way for another six months or a year.  We’ll see.  The rest of the Christmas Cards are still sitting on the table.

 

I see by my trusty word count thingy that we’re getting dangerously close to the “snooze zone”,  so that’ll be it for today.

 

Keep those sticks on the ice.  And it’s probably a good idea to be careful what you say?

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

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