Hi Mike,

Hope your Christmas was as nice as the rakkity family’s. Between gifting and talking we did a lot of rambling around town. We had dinner at Artu’s in Little Italy. The North End seems to have been mightily revitalized by the Big Dig and the resulting absence of the old network of highways, so now you can easily walk to it from Government Center. Kathy gave us a tour of Beacon Hill and China Town.  We also strolled through Cambridge, toured the Coop, lamented the loss of Bailey’s and their scrumptiously sinful sundaes, then passed by John Harvard’s shiny left foot, and trundled in one side of Memorial Hall and out the other side, stopping to look at the stained glass.

Then the big highlights of Cambridge–We had lunch at the Three Aces, which is still alive and cooking great grinders.  But most amazing of all, one of the cooks is still there from the ’70’s! He asked me if I had survived the blizzard of ’78, and I said it was one of my best times in Cambridge. After memorable grinders, we hiked over to Somerville and looked at the old homestead, 318 Beacon St, which is much the worse for wear, paint peeling off from every square inch, with a beat up old bike thrown down by the front porch.   And there’s a car semi-abandoned in the back yard with snow drifts blocking it in, much like the old days. I would think if you’re in the market for a Somerville home, the building would be one of the more affordable houses, but you’d have to want a real fix-me-up.

Photos

–rakkity

Goose and I, on our way to another ice dam, are stopped at the light at Central St. and 111. The light turns green and I move my foot to the accelerator pedal but before I get there I hear, “It’s green!” There’s an edge to his declarative sentence as if I’ve fallen asleep, or I’ve not been paying attention. The thing is I responded just as soon as I saw the light change.

The hard holidays are over and I’m walking into the lobby of the Sushi House. I’ll climb the stairs, say “Hi” to Michael, pay for our shumai, miso soup and white rice and then head home. But I’m feeling buoyant and I’m humming “He’s a Rebel,” while tossing my truck keys in the air. Catch and toss, catch and toss. I toss them up one last time, do a little spin move to snag them behind my back, but they don’t land in my hand and I don’t hear them hit the floor. What happened to Newton’s law of gravity? No keys, no apple, no nothing. I look up and there they are atop one blade of a six paddle fan.

I figure this could happen to anyone, but I sure don’t want just anyone to see what I’ve done, so I hurry back to my truck, grab a long piece of scrap metal, and then run back to whack the fan. The keys clatter onto the floor. When I get home I tell Diane and she laughs until tears fall from her cheeks. I know my story is not that funny. I know she’s laughing because she’s thinking there he goes again.

Brian’s photo.

1993

2007

Emma remembered the first picture of the godmothers and goddaughters taken when she was three years old, and convinced her dad to buy new pajamas from The Gap for an updated photo.

Left Top Row: La Rad, FierceBaby, Mrs. rakkity, Blogmeister, rakkity, El Kib, Anon.
Bottom Row : KT, smiling Dan, Jen, Birdbrain, and Jennifer Koeller.

Okay, I sneaked away from our Christmas Eve festivities to post more photographs. This gallery with Perry Como singing “Home For the Holidays.”

Susan insisted we return to the Tall Pines neighborhood in Sudbury (minutes from Adam’s house) for another gander at the Christmas lights. These photos are inadequate. If you haven’t been you oughta go although you’ll feel like you’re in the last scene in “Field of Dreams,” cause it’s been built and they are all a coming. Musical accompaniment also suggested by Susan: Frosty the Snowman by Gene Autry.

 

Goose and I spent yesterday afternoon trudging through the snow and clearing ice dams at the condo up the street. When I say we, I mean I helped him carry the ladder and then snapped photos while he risked his life.

The only time I climbed up to check his progress he grabbed my camera and took this artful shot.

Click here.

-rakkity

You remember those days when your parents discouraged you from associating with certain kids. Maybe even forbade you altogether. I have a feeling that after BirdBrain sees this I won’t be playing with Chris anymore.

Mike,

Here is a short clip of some brave tuba players making warm music in a cold snowstorm. My battery ran out, so there is only one pan across the band. The film ends at a point where a repeat might sound OK.  Maybe you can put it into a loop?

–rakkity