Close upon the receipt of this Christmas letter, the heavens conspired to shower heart health on your letter courier, and more remotely, the good breeding of your ancestors coalesced to advance to you an adroit literacy. May the auspicious meeting of contemporary good fortune combined with ancestral foresight serve you well as the Smith family wishes you well!
This year saw Joy turn the corner on her affection for Kalamata olives. Her palate, in contrast to her volatile physicality, is aging. A year’s sabbatical from child-birthing rejuvenated Joy, and she’s been unflappable when I bemoan the toil and grief inflicted on old men without sons.
Hayden’s (on left of Christmas pic) self-concept charts well on most grids, and she’s no slouch when it comes to wingspan. At 24 months old Hayden has unfettered access to any object less than 48 inches high. Regrettably, she possesses unequal parts of grace and grit. Despite a steady diet and semi-regular check-ups, I’m able to box her out for rebounds with embarrassing consistency. Luckily, she compensates for athletic deficiency with optimism, poise, je ne sais quoi, and a love for dogs, geese, milk, books, coloring, play-dough, chocolate, french-fries, grandma, grandpa, she-she, Ta-Ta, PBS television, lively music, cameras, pens, shopping, the park, gum, and the theme song from The Office.
As the fog of babyhood lifts and Talor (on right of Christmas pic) awakes to greater custody of her personality, we are finding a jolly companion for Hayden. Talor is the next best-thing to a little brother for Hayden. While Talor consents to pink-patterned garb and dolly rustling, she prattles her own distinct babble and registers a vitality and athleticism distinct from her big sister. However, goats and ostriches have become non-examples for demonstrations about edibility. Among the less edible objects Talor has attempted to ingest are magazines, newspapers, shoes, two-pronged outlet covers, batteries, crayons, magnets, Q-tips, the tub drain plug, cell phones, photographs, belt buckles, ear phones, the cable wire, the cord for the carbon-monoxide sensor, napkins, and, of course, her own stool!
And I am gratefully captive to and captivated by these three ladies. May the joy of our Savior’s birth, Christ Jesus, reassure you this season!
Best wishes this season,Ryan Joy Hayden Talor