Before you start reading, know that I tried very hard to write a normal Christmas letter, but I failed. My failure is probably due to a number of things, but the first two that come to mind are (a) I'm not normal (no surprise to anyone who knows me) and (b) this hasn't been a normal year. So onward with the abnormal prose and recollection.
Let's start with how I finally got over procrastinating and put words to paper (fingers to keys... whatever). On the eve of Christmas eve, I was outside in the backyard getting irrationally and unduly frustrated by the fact that I cannot manage to keep the plant coverings on the plants. I'm an engineer. How can it possibly be so difficult to persuade a bunch of sheets and various other swaths of fabric to stay put over all the plants in my yard that are shivering in their roots tonight? Yes, you heard me correctly. Shivering in their tropical roots... as the coldest Christmas in over a decade looms over the Sunshine State. The Arctic winds that have somehow made it this far south seem on a mission to undo any protection I might provide to my poor colorful friends.
It's my fault. Who plants a tropical plant in a subtropical zone? Worse, who plants dozens of tropical plants in a climate that roller coasters all winter long? The answer to that question is very easy... lots of Floridians (including me). Hence why Home Depot and Lowes are entirely out of plant coverings and all of our bed sheets are out in the yard for the time being. The prospect of freezing palms, crotons, schefflera, and the like dying or looking pathetic for the months ahead is motivating my battle with the bed sheets, but I am well aware that Floridians are getting off easy this Christmas season. And, that is what triggered me to stop procrastinating and write.
The temperatures hovering above freezing along the Gulf Coast of Florida are absolutely nothing compared to what is going on in the rest of the country. My sister Heidi, who lives in a cozy rural home near Knoxville TN, has woken up to single digit temperatures multiple days in a row with a wind chill that has a negative sign in front of it. In lieu of tinsel, she has solid ice on the inside of several of her windows. While I could Pollyanna my way through the deep freeze and wax poetic about the wonderful opportunity that it gives to enjoy a warm, cozy day indoors, all the charm of a cold winter's day evaporates when rolling blackouts and power outages show up at the door as is the case with Heidi, my brother-in-law, and their canine family. Even Star is protesting the cold by camping out on the kitchen table right underneath the heating unit:
Freezing in Florida on Christmas is a fitting end to the climate upheaval this year. Fires, drought, category 1 equivalent windstorms in Western Washington, erupting volcanoes, Hurricane Ian, Floods, Tornadoes, Earthquakes, and the list goes on. The world has gone crazy and the climate has gone with it. Early in the Fall of this year, while I was still simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief that Hurricane Ian missed Tampa Bay at the eleventh hour and mourning the destruction and death just south in the Ft. Myers area, drought followed by intense rains followed by equally intense windstorms (that would have been named had they happened anywhere but the Pacific Northwest) arrived on Whidbey Island. This led to fallen tree buffet at our home and property. One beautiful oak, one white alder, one maple, one fir, and one red alder were lost during the storm (and I haven't plucked up the courage yet to see what fell deeper into the woods).
All thoughts of "just leave it until spring" dissipated when two of those lovely trees blocked the driveway. Thanks to the help of wonderful friends and neighbors, most were delimbed, cleared, and otherwise "left until spring" but the marathon of manual labor left me feeling like I was 110 years old and wondering if I'd be able to get out of bed the next day.
I returned to Florida from the clean-up adventure on Whidbey genuinely believing that I could rest, relax, and recover. Haha. A late season tropical storm/category 1 hurricane left us wondering (yet again) how a postage stamp size yard can produce soooo much yard waste; an unexpected intense and prolonged thunderstorm gave us water flooding into our garage/office faster than we could bail the water out, and to top it all off, I slipped on our porch steps and cracked my head on the corner of a metal lawn chair (hint -- visualize lots of spurting blood). What a smashing way to finish off the year (OK... not very punny).
Since many are reporting their COVID status this year, I am happy to report that Barry and I are still COVID virgins, but we have no illusions about staying COVID-free forever. That doesn't mean there hasn't been illness in the house. I've been painfully sick three times this year... Thanks go to Moderna (twice) and to my tetanus shot (thank you lawn chair). My immune system is tired out from fighting battles with vaccines this year. And, as an introvert, I am quite happy to crawl under my rock during the Christmas cold snap, coming out only occasionally to cook cold weather comfort food and spend time with Barry.
The University of Washington continues to be a never-ending source of work that rarely skips a beat. With my colleague and still-friend (Yay!) Jennifer, I published a book on Sex, Gender, and Engineering in 2022 to address that pesky, persistent issue of harassment that continues pretty much unabated in many engineering work and learning spaces. I took on an (additional) administrator role as associate chair of diversity, equity, and inclusion this year which promptly reminded me of why I have no interest in being more of an administrator and less of a professor (hint -- I appear to be allergic to meetings). I have three wonderful PhD students and much to be thankful for at work (despite the workload which can still be soul crushing). I am happy to not be a "star" in academia as it helps to keep me humble and gives me more time to be thoughtful about what I am doing in both research and teaching. While I often have a heart for service, I have also learned how to say NO in at least a hundred different ways.
It is not a happy Christmas this year because there is so much wrong in the world this holiday season ... COVID in China, the cruel and ugly war in Ukraine, the lingering Artic cold across most of the U.S.... the general lack of kindness and patience I see on the roads, in the stores, and other places when out and about. But I am very grateful for the love and comforts that I have and the freedom to express myself, even though I write outside of the normal Christmas letter genre.
My wish for Christmas this year is that gratitude spread across the U.S., filling hearts and minds to the best extent possible... with peace and hope this holiday season.
Merry Christmas!
Oh... and Lazer asks that you please send your holiday leftovers to Clearwater, FL and he will take care of them for you.
