‘Twas the month after Christmas, the year just begun,
The presents were opened, toys broken, food gone.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But notes from the Masters – Sirs Roebuck and Sears.
And one from that Frenchman, Monsieur J. C. Penn-ay
And another one here labeled "Lé K-Marché’"

The notes all had windows and numbers galore,
And "Thank-yous" so gracious, for shopping their stores.
Well I wrote them all back – stayed in contact all year!
We’re all such close buddies, so near – and so dear.
(Me thinks we own stock, these stores have all our funds!)
‘Cept "school bucks" we’ve hidden for daughter and son.

Fast on their heels, ground still white with snow,
Came booklets of bushes and seeds you can grow!
And tulips from Holland and trees from the East,
And seeds for your garden – to harvest a feast!
Selling flowers and bushes and plants – all shipped live!
To die somewhere in transit before they arrive.

Oh, The tulips! The lilies! The Pampas! and More!
Sweepstakes Entries! and Contests! and Prizes Galore!
‘Till I find that my entries and mailings, et. al,
Give naught but my name on a list for a call,
From some joker at dinner – who’ll take only my time,
To sell me a phone plan from Sprint for a dime.

Then Spring breaks with baseball and taxes and weeds,
And my hope that the Winter is gone – with Godspeed!
Hubby revs up the tractor (and sticks in the mud,
Every year without fail, just like Elmer Fudd.)
And the bunnies delight in my new daffodils,
While the deer munch my tulips – eating their fill.

The dog thinks they’re family, so what do we do?
But replant the veggies, ‘till our faces are blue.
An next year, says Husband, a fence will be built!
And there will be veggies – up to the hilt!
‘Till then – go you Bunnies! – he’s getting his gun!
And the dog smirks (all knowing) – those bunnies can run.

So the garden’s a bust, ‘cept for berries and spuds,
And tomat-ers, ‘till Blight turns ‘em blacker than mud,
But we didn’t have time to dirty our hands,
What with fast-pitch and dancing and concerts and band.
But the next year, I promise (I told him sincere),
We’ll have corn, beans and tater’s – for real, next year.

But no time to mourn, for the Summer is here!
And turn up the speed, for the pace is a tear.
Swimming and skating and picnics and more...
Scouts at "Egg Days", & "Cheese Days" – projects galore!
Bub had his campouts, and Sis went to "sea",
Rode a boat in the ocean, and dug clams with glee.

Mom went did some traveling, for work scheduled things,
Wishing Dad could be with her to see someone sing.
But home again, soon enough, Bub’s off to camp,
While Sister’s is over – and she needs a nap!
But the Campers cut short, all the fun and kicks,
When the last day of camp – thirty campers got sick!

And August brings picnics, reunions and lo!,
We have nearly four dozen at our family show.
And the weather was balmy, the water serene,
The company laughing, enjoying the scene.
We had trivia, children, great food and good cheer,
And plenty of pictures to show off next year.

Now On, Football and Soccer – On, Practice and Games!
All ON the same nights, at same times – I’m insane!!!
But the children are healthy and happy to play,
(And we parents, occasionally both have to say,
That we both seem to like having Bubby and Sis,
On the fields, getting healthy and happy like this).

So now in the Autumn, add to our score –
Dark mornings, hot lunches, cold suppers and more,
School functions, like Houses which Open at Night,
For the Parents to come see the Teachers who might,
Like our children as much as do we who have bore,
Them like precious cargo, to leave at their door.

Now the Conference and Grading and TV No More!
‘Till the grades all get better – Good Habits restored!
Not that mom minds, she claims that all TV should End,
‘Till Dad finds her watching her "ER" and "Friends".
But no one has time for the TV these days,
‘Cause the Seasons have changed, Basketball is the rage!

We’re churching on Sundays, mom sits on her hands,
She won’t argue with Pastor, and won’t raise her hand,
To argue about this point, or that one – or Paul!
(No matter, I don’t need to understand all.)
And Pastor continues to pray, listen and say,
I don’t write it, just Preach it – just listen, today

Bub sings in the Choir, and Sis plays her flute,
And she’s growing pretty, and he getting cute.
He’s going to dances, she’s flirting with boys,
We wonder, just when did they outgrow their toys?
But never mind that, ‘cause we’re late once again,
And how could you both lose your coats at the gym?

Now Christmas’ upon us – "NOT YET!" – hear our cry!
We have wrapping and candles and gifts yet to buy!
But like Fall, Spring and Summer, the Winter comes close,
With the ice in the morning and breath stands like smoke.
Cards stuff-ed, and stamp-ed, and addressed and all,
‘Cept I can’t seem to get to the P.O. this fall,
 

But come Christmas or New Year or Valentines Day,
We will get this letter to you on its way.
We are well as we can be, our health not too bad!
(when you consider the vices we’ve had),
To our family and friends we wish you good cheer,
May the Joy of the Season stay with you all year.