Friday, December 21, 2007
Christmas Letter 2007 - Erratum
My sister noticed a reference to a wonderful 2006 and best wishes for 2007 in my Christmas Letter, and I apologize - I had no idea it was 2007, I must have blacked out for a while. No, seriously, unintentional mistakes in my Christmas Letters are like a "Where's Waldo" - there's always at least one, you just have to look for it.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Christmas Letter 2007
So I was doing a bit of online Christmas shopping the other day and I had to fill out my billing/shipping information, and after ‘name’ there was a space for ‘Alias’ (true story). And sure, I probably shouldn’t have been shopping for that sawed-off shotgun on-line, but hey, I’m a busy guy! Seriously, Alias? I think we have finally reached the point at which on-line retailers are asking for a bit too much information. But, who am I to question the retail industry? So, greetings from Paul, a.k.a. Pauly, Paul Sean, Daddy, Rod, Boon, Spider, Curtin, Curty, Benny the Nose, Nicky the Scar, Sweetie, Lovey, Tennessee Slim, Ace, Drapes, The Boston Strangler, the Fonz, and Mordicai “Three Fingers” Brown. Welcome to the Curtin Compound – Official Home of the Curtin Christmas Letter 2007!
Actually, now that our Julia (now 6) is taking an art class, welcome to the four square feet of our house not currently occupied by her art projects. Wow. And we thought she churned out a lot of art projects on her own (for further discussion of said topic, please see Christmas Letter 2006 on my blog at http://pscurtin.blogspot.com/ and, for the uninitiated, for every Curtin Christmas Letter since they began ‘lo these many years ago - as well as other inane musings from a frustrated writer). Kat swears to me that this art class is only once per week, but a six year old girl cannot possibly churn out this much shi…stuff while working for an hour, one day per week. I think she is secretly running a sweatshop of four and five year old art students, and she slaps a “Julia” label on their work and brings it home (hey, it works for Nike). And she doesn’t bring these projects home piecemeal (or, ‘one-at-a-time’ for the idiots reading this Letter), instead, once every month, she comes home with a garbage bag (Irony Alert!) full of that month’s work. And we have to sit in the den while she “reveals” her projects. Meanwhile, I am knee-deep in glitter, paper, wood, Styrofoam, and tissue paper. You wanna do something about global warming, go after the art teachers – there can’t be a tree left on this planet because they have all been turned into paper and wood projects that now reside in my house. I’m thinking of starting a rainforest in my basement. OK, that being said, she is sooo proud of herself during these art shows that we can’t even stand it. She is a sweet, happy, sensitive, precocious (again, ‘bright’ or ‘inventive’ for the idiots) little girl, and a joy to be around. She still loves her Irish Step Dancing, skiing, soccer, and yes, art class, and has proven to be a wonderful first grade student.
Her sister Emma meanwhile, is now 8 and streaking toward double digits and (GASP!) pre-teenage years at light speed. Over my strenuous objections (which gives you a little window into how effective my objections are in my house, strenuous or otherwise) Kat took Emma to her first concert this year – the American Idol Tour. She had such a good time that she quit school, moved out, bought a VW bus, painted it rainbow, and follows the Idol Tour, supporting herself by selling organic grilled cheeses to the other “Idolheads”. OK, actually, that didn’t really happen, but it was one of the irrational thoughts that went through my head when I found out my baby girl was going to her first concert. Emma continues to amaze us with her maturity, intelligence, and grace. She is an honor student in third grade and she loves her Irish Step Dancing, skiing, soccer, lacrosse, and Theatre group (the Fall performance found her as a woodland mobster – youse got a problem wit that? - in a modern adaptation of The Tortoise and the Hare called, “Put Your Money on the Bunny”. Meanwhile, I lost a cool five grand because I thought the freaking rabbit was winning this time).
As for our youngest daughter, well, let’s just say that Tropical Storm Annie has increased in strength over the Atlantic Ocean, and is now Hurricane Annie – and she’s bearing down on the coast of Connecticut. Shutter the windows and hide the valuables for the love of God! Annie is three and a half and, quite frankly, I can’t do her justice in print. But, since that is the only medium currently available to me, here goes: Trouble. Also, dangerous. And while we’re here: strong-willed, stubborn, train wreck, cute as they come, dress-wearing (always), necklace wearing (always), glitter shoes wearing (always), tiara-wearing (as often as we let her get away with), smart as a whip, hug-loving, cuddle-loving, piercing blue eyes, behind which only the bravest dare tread. If you think of the most frustrating thing you can think of, she is there. If you think of the most wonderful thing you can imagine, she is there too. I need her to grow up tomorrow, and I need her to stay three forever. She’s incredible. She’s Annie – and God help the guys that will one day (faaaaaar off in the distance) try to court her. Oh, and she started Irish Step dancing this year – and the third kid is free!! (With four you get an egg roll, but we’re all done).
Kat turned 40 this year. I have no additional story, I just like writing that.
OK, actually, in honor of her 40th, I bankrupted our family…I mean I threw her an amazing party under a big tent in the yard of our dear friends the Elys. It was an incredible night and she looked gorgeous (Redundant Alert!). In fact, it went so well that we will be holding each of the girls wedding receptions under tents in the Ely front yard – thanks Gina and Alex! Kat continues to be the best thing that ever happened to me and she shows no signs of regretting our 11 years of marriage (but the nightly sobbing into her pillow arouses a bit of suspicion). We had another wonderful year watching the girls grow, and going on great vacations thanks to the generosity of our relatives and friends. Two(!) family reunions (McMahon and Curtin – no drinking going on there!); skiing in Vermont with our Hayes cousins (lousy snow, great company!); Sea Island in the spring (thanks John and Kate!); Marthas Vineyard in the summer (thanks Matt and Kathy! and Pat and Bob!); our annual pilgrimage to the Saratoga racetrack (thanks Vineyards! – Andy tried to run into a police horse, but they made up over a couple of $300 bottles of wine – long story, but funny!). And I had to save a spot once again in the Letter to thank our dear friends the Fords for another amazing vacation, this time to Costa Rica (and a special Curtin Letter shout out to our new amigos the Graves, Cox’, Bowlins, Rocchios, Kleins, Lacys – what an amazing trip!) Costa Rica is unlike anywhere we have ever been – pretty much all rain forest with little villages carved out. It is lush and beautiful, and we spent a lot of time hiking and taking zip line canopy tours, and taking an incredible ATV tour of the rain forest. One word of caution, we went during rainy season and Costa Rica takes its rainy season quite seriously apparently – picture seven straight days of wading through chest-deep water while someone constantly sprays you with a fire hose, and you’ll have a pretty good idea of how we spent our time outdoors in Costa Rica. But the company, the food, the drinks, and the location were spectacular so we had the time of our lives – and we dried off eventually.
As for me, well, what do I have to complain about? I have my health, the best family (all of you), world-class friends (all of you), a nice house in the world’s best town, the game-winning goal that won my men’s-league hockey team the league Championship (go Lobsters!), and a birdie on my first hole on Pinehurst #2 in September – I continue to have it all.
We hope that 2007 was great for you and that 2008 will be even better. We hope that Santa finds your house. We hope you made it all the way through this letter.
Actually, now that our Julia (now 6) is taking an art class, welcome to the four square feet of our house not currently occupied by her art projects. Wow. And we thought she churned out a lot of art projects on her own (for further discussion of said topic, please see Christmas Letter 2006 on my blog at http://pscurtin.blogspot.com/ and, for the uninitiated, for every Curtin Christmas Letter since they began ‘lo these many years ago - as well as other inane musings from a frustrated writer). Kat swears to me that this art class is only once per week, but a six year old girl cannot possibly churn out this much shi…stuff while working for an hour, one day per week. I think she is secretly running a sweatshop of four and five year old art students, and she slaps a “Julia” label on their work and brings it home (hey, it works for Nike). And she doesn’t bring these projects home piecemeal (or, ‘one-at-a-time’ for the idiots reading this Letter), instead, once every month, she comes home with a garbage bag (Irony Alert!) full of that month’s work. And we have to sit in the den while she “reveals” her projects. Meanwhile, I am knee-deep in glitter, paper, wood, Styrofoam, and tissue paper. You wanna do something about global warming, go after the art teachers – there can’t be a tree left on this planet because they have all been turned into paper and wood projects that now reside in my house. I’m thinking of starting a rainforest in my basement. OK, that being said, she is sooo proud of herself during these art shows that we can’t even stand it. She is a sweet, happy, sensitive, precocious (again, ‘bright’ or ‘inventive’ for the idiots) little girl, and a joy to be around. She still loves her Irish Step Dancing, skiing, soccer, and yes, art class, and has proven to be a wonderful first grade student.
Her sister Emma meanwhile, is now 8 and streaking toward double digits and (GASP!) pre-teenage years at light speed. Over my strenuous objections (which gives you a little window into how effective my objections are in my house, strenuous or otherwise) Kat took Emma to her first concert this year – the American Idol Tour. She had such a good time that she quit school, moved out, bought a VW bus, painted it rainbow, and follows the Idol Tour, supporting herself by selling organic grilled cheeses to the other “Idolheads”. OK, actually, that didn’t really happen, but it was one of the irrational thoughts that went through my head when I found out my baby girl was going to her first concert. Emma continues to amaze us with her maturity, intelligence, and grace. She is an honor student in third grade and she loves her Irish Step Dancing, skiing, soccer, lacrosse, and Theatre group (the Fall performance found her as a woodland mobster – youse got a problem wit that? - in a modern adaptation of The Tortoise and the Hare called, “Put Your Money on the Bunny”. Meanwhile, I lost a cool five grand because I thought the freaking rabbit was winning this time).
As for our youngest daughter, well, let’s just say that Tropical Storm Annie has increased in strength over the Atlantic Ocean, and is now Hurricane Annie – and she’s bearing down on the coast of Connecticut. Shutter the windows and hide the valuables for the love of God! Annie is three and a half and, quite frankly, I can’t do her justice in print. But, since that is the only medium currently available to me, here goes: Trouble. Also, dangerous. And while we’re here: strong-willed, stubborn, train wreck, cute as they come, dress-wearing (always), necklace wearing (always), glitter shoes wearing (always), tiara-wearing (as often as we let her get away with), smart as a whip, hug-loving, cuddle-loving, piercing blue eyes, behind which only the bravest dare tread. If you think of the most frustrating thing you can think of, she is there. If you think of the most wonderful thing you can imagine, she is there too. I need her to grow up tomorrow, and I need her to stay three forever. She’s incredible. She’s Annie – and God help the guys that will one day (faaaaaar off in the distance) try to court her. Oh, and she started Irish Step dancing this year – and the third kid is free!! (With four you get an egg roll, but we’re all done).
Kat turned 40 this year. I have no additional story, I just like writing that.
OK, actually, in honor of her 40th, I bankrupted our family…I mean I threw her an amazing party under a big tent in the yard of our dear friends the Elys. It was an incredible night and she looked gorgeous (Redundant Alert!). In fact, it went so well that we will be holding each of the girls wedding receptions under tents in the Ely front yard – thanks Gina and Alex! Kat continues to be the best thing that ever happened to me and she shows no signs of regretting our 11 years of marriage (but the nightly sobbing into her pillow arouses a bit of suspicion). We had another wonderful year watching the girls grow, and going on great vacations thanks to the generosity of our relatives and friends. Two(!) family reunions (McMahon and Curtin – no drinking going on there!); skiing in Vermont with our Hayes cousins (lousy snow, great company!); Sea Island in the spring (thanks John and Kate!); Marthas Vineyard in the summer (thanks Matt and Kathy! and Pat and Bob!); our annual pilgrimage to the Saratoga racetrack (thanks Vineyards! – Andy tried to run into a police horse, but they made up over a couple of $300 bottles of wine – long story, but funny!). And I had to save a spot once again in the Letter to thank our dear friends the Fords for another amazing vacation, this time to Costa Rica (and a special Curtin Letter shout out to our new amigos the Graves, Cox’, Bowlins, Rocchios, Kleins, Lacys – what an amazing trip!) Costa Rica is unlike anywhere we have ever been – pretty much all rain forest with little villages carved out. It is lush and beautiful, and we spent a lot of time hiking and taking zip line canopy tours, and taking an incredible ATV tour of the rain forest. One word of caution, we went during rainy season and Costa Rica takes its rainy season quite seriously apparently – picture seven straight days of wading through chest-deep water while someone constantly sprays you with a fire hose, and you’ll have a pretty good idea of how we spent our time outdoors in Costa Rica. But the company, the food, the drinks, and the location were spectacular so we had the time of our lives – and we dried off eventually.
As for me, well, what do I have to complain about? I have my health, the best family (all of you), world-class friends (all of you), a nice house in the world’s best town, the game-winning goal that won my men’s-league hockey team the league Championship (go Lobsters!), and a birdie on my first hole on Pinehurst #2 in September – I continue to have it all.
We hope that 2007 was great for you and that 2008 will be even better. We hope that Santa finds your house. We hope you made it all the way through this letter.
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