mutterings header-bil

Our guy, Huckie, wrote the following Christmas letter for me when I had Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. I have always thought he did a pretty darn good job of it, even if he can't spell very well.

From time to time I will post other parts from the book on this page (Christmas letters, pomes, and other wacky writings) so that you can get a feel for Bil's Mutterings, and hopefully buy a copy for yourself or friends and family.

(OK. OK. I didn't really have Carpel Tunnel Syndrome, and Huckie didn't really write this. But I thought it made for a fun Christmas letter all the same.)

Christmas Letter 2011

hullo ever buddy.

i am writing this for my dear old dad, mr bil.

you see, my old dad, he sprayned both hims wrists a littl wile ago, and asked me, huckie, to writ hims christmas lettr for him.  he pikked me instead of my brudder tom to do this becuz i am smarter than tom and can tipe.  sorry i can't do caps lettrs, but what the hell i am only a cat.

my old dad, hims did writ somthing earlier which hims asked me to inklude, so you can read wot him wrot befor i get on with my story about wot happend to bil and christine and tom and me this last year.

The news from Houghtonville

It had been a really great summer.  Dinner parties, the VSO concert July 3rd, and the best season ever at the Weston Playhouse.  And then Irene, the guest who wouldn't leave, came to town.

Grafton took a hit with serious flooding. We were totally cut off from the center of Grafton until early Tuesday when they made temporary repairs.

We had our traditional weekend with friends who come up each summer to see a performance at the Weston Playhouse. As we left the Playhouse on Saturday night, the rain was just starting. By Sunday morning, we had a raging river flowing down the street in front of the house.  It was clear nobody was going to leave on Sunday.

Getting everybody on their way Monday was a challenge to find roads that were passable. However, we did get one set of friends out on Monday morning, but couldn't get the others out until late that afternoon, as they had closed more roads since the morning. 

Added to all this was that we were without phone service (and also email/internet service) until 8pm Tuesday evening. In order to communicate with anyone, Christine would walk into town to use her cell phone.  But she does love the exercise.  Quite the weekend.

it's me, huckie.  hi ever buddy.  i'm back with my neus.

wow, i just now lerned how to do bolds.

christine is 70

my old dad, mr bil, told me that christine was 70 years old this year.  i can't count past 10, so that could be a relly big number.  and she could relly be old.  i am only seven and a half, so maybe i am too young for her.and should find someone younger to sleep with at night.

but she doesn't seem very old to me, and she treats me nice in bed and is very warm to snuggle up to under the covers.  maybe i shud discuss this with my old dad, mr bil, and see what him thinks.  but him probably doesn't know much becuz he is always asleep when i curl up with christine.

christine's gardin

christine and my old dad mr bil made a nice, big kitty litter for us out in the yard.  it is sew much nicer than the littl one inside the house.  they called it a gardin, whatever that is.

but then sum littl green things appeered in our kitty litter and christine wud come and chase me and tom away.  now there is so much big green stuff that me and tom don't not have room anymore.  but christine and my old dad mr bil seem happy, and they eat the green stuff at dinnur ever nite.   ug, ug, ug. 

christine's mg

last year my dear old dad mr bil worked on this grey thing in the barn (i think it is called an mg).  i don't not know what it does, but it is a nice place for me and tom to sleep.
this year my dear old dad mr bil and christine wud get into it and take off in it for hours and sometimes days.  i didn't not know that beds could move by themselves, but i guess they due.

anyway, when thems wuz gon, me and tom had the whole house to ourselves.  so we had a grate time tearing up my dear old dad mr bil's speekers (i don't not know what they due, but sound comes out of them sumtimes), and the firnitur, and the rugs.  then we wud find our favorite spots and sleep for the rest of the day.  it wuz GRATE (wow i can do caps lettrs after all).

well, that's all the nues i can think of.  i hope i don't have to do this next yeer.

hav a hapy holidey ever buddy.

fur tom, and christine and my old dad mr bil.

yur pal huckie
Huck's Signature

ps: please furgive the return addres labils on the envelops.  it were the best i cud do.  when christine saw how owful they looked, she put on the front labils.

pps: thot you wud like to see a picture of me after i tiped this.  i wuz relly tierd.

Huck at the keyboard