Gertrude writes her last holiday letter.
|Greetings to all my lovelies this winter season!
I sure do appreciate y'all making it so easy to mail out these Christmas, er, holiday letters. Sorry Uncle Jacob, I forgot you celebrate Hanukkah. At any rate, y'all living so close makes it easy on my old bones when hand delivering these papers.
Now I'm sure cousin Tommy told y'all about the cat we found on Thanksgiving but I just had to apologize again for that little mishap. See, when Tommy screamed about a kitten with an extra toe, I thought he meant a polydactyl. And no, Richie, I'm not talking about dinosaurs. I still don't understand how a boy who graduated from college can't tell the difference between those two things...
Anywho, I didn't realize that pesky feline had dug up and drug off Mama's old pinkie. Mama, God rest her soul, always was the forgiving type so I just planted that little piggie back in the dirt and gave the kitten a stern talking to. You can all rest assured it won't happen again.
Now, the unexpected visit from old friends on St. Patty's Day was an utter disaster. I know Great Aunt Millie promised her lucky shamrock ring to Shirley but I didn't expect her to bring her daughters and a work group with shovels, much less that they would pry it off her cold, dead hands. After such a horrid display of greed, I vowed to never talk to Shirley or her girls ever again. They are dead to me.
I was invited to Bonita's ninety-seventh birthday party last week. Her grandson was in charge of drinks but he messed up big time. See, the apple cider went bad but instead of dumping it down the sink, he fed it to Bonita's pet sow. That hog got as drunk as a skunk. It ran squealing through the front door, busted Bonita's antique table, and ate her entire birthday cake. No offence, Uncle Jacob, but they ate that pig shortly after. Once the porker got a taste for spoiled apples, the fruit orchard just wasn't safe anymore.
I wanted to thank y'all for welcoming my dear Henry into your midst. I knew when he finally retired it'd be for the long haul. He never could do things halfway, the old coot!
Well, this will be my last letter to y'all, as the grandkids are shipping their poor dear old Granny off to some retirement home in Canada. It's a grave situation, this move, but the grands insist I join the land of the living.
Uncle Jacob, have a Happy Hanukkah. The rest of you enjoy your Christmas. I made sure to put a cookie on each of your tombstones. Aunt Betsy, I gave you two so you won't feel tempted to snitch from the others.
All my love to y'all,