Got the Big Eye: April 2020

Sunday, April 12, 2020

My Dearest Brother - April 12, 2020

My Dearest Brother-

I do apologize for being remiss in answering your charming and delightfully informative missives. I have read them aloud to my Best Beloved Husband as we enjoyed our suppers of mixed vegetables, hearty brown rice and a peculiar culinary invention all the way from China called "To-Fu". I was excited to sample this treat, given China's rich history and colorful culture and anticipated a delectable adventure. I must say that upon my first taste I was unimpressed and even a bit put off by its complete lack of flavor and bland texture. I then remembered the story of when our great-grandmother first encountered a grapefruit and, having been given no instruction on its preparation, tried eating it raw both with and without the peel (too bitter!), but declared it passably edible when fried in her cast iron skillet with plenty of bacon fat.

And thus it goes with the To-Fu, for we soon discovered it to be quite delicious when well-seasoned in garlic and herbs, dipped in a batter much like one would dredged poultry with, and deep-fried until crispy brown and crackling. Of course, one might argue, that anything could be made palatable with this method of preparation - even Nanny's grapefruit. And so begins our week of experimental meals where we endeavor to make the best of our dwindling stores with garlic, oil and excessive temperatures. As you are a gentleman vegetarian, I'm sure you, unlike some of our other male acquaintances, will refrain from offering an unsolicited disquisition regarding the culinary arts. (Here I conjoin words to emphasize my consternation at being lectured about a subject I have studied all my life. #cocksure_blatherskite )

I fear the Plague has made the days run together and I am just realizing that today is Easter! I invite you to cast your mind back to Easters past and reminisce with me with these images from our childhood.

Happy Easter, Welcome Spring
and all my love to You and the lovely Irish Wife,

Sarah and the BBH

_____________________________________

Lon Gowan is an actor/stuntman/writer and the most excellent brother a sister could ever want. His "My Dearest Sister" letters may be the best thing to happen to me during the COVID-19 Quarantines.

Julie Dolan is an actress, musician and favorite Irish wife/Las Vegas Showgirl. We were thrilled the day she married my brother.

Susan Terry is a mediator, consultant, musician, and storyteller as well being our Esteemed Mother. She and her Yankee Husband and Gentleman Farmer, Stephen Parker live in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont at High Reach Farm

Bill Quern is my Beloved Husband and we're known collectively as Box and String.

#COVID19 #LonGowan #MyDearestSister #Julie Dolan #Coronacation

Friday, April 10, 2020

My Dearest Sister - April 10, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

I awoke from my sleep this night and was unable to return. I found my mind wandering full of thoughts that served no earthly purpose at this hour of day. I thought best to give into them and just rise, leaving your Sister-in-Law to her slumbers.

Perhaps it is the news that I shall not be returning to my place of employ until after the month of May, I do miss my compatriots so. Perhaps it was the news that my financial institution will be accepting applications for the grants and loans from the Government and that news was received at an hour at which I can not obtain the documents needed to apply. Or perhaps, it was homemade tacos. I suspect it was a veritable combo-platter of worries and rich salty foods. Así es la vida…

We did manage to visit with Julie’s sister over the flickerbox. We cooked together. It was quite fun. You and I should try, although the time difference would have one of us eating at an odd hour. Perhaps Brunch?

I also spent some time on the flicker box with my friend Tristan. He is a guest at work who visits us after performances on occasion with his Mother. He is a treat. He likes to give hugs and is incredibly strong. His Mother often tells him to be careful with me. I tell her to “mind your own business, Lady, this hug is between him and me”. Tristan is a fan of the Musical theater, as well as our show and often has a review of a recent performance. His favorite to date is “The Greatest Showman”. It was nice to visit with him, again.

It has been raining for three days. It is difficult to complain when I know the family farm has received snow, yet again.... in April. But still, it will be nice to see how the rain has helped the garden.

The days have been pleasant. Your Sister-in-Law and I enjoy each other’s company and find ways to assistance one another, even when assistance isn’t required. It feels nice to be of service. I believe it is important to tell you that it is my wife that allows me the privilege of being of “aid” to her. I know she is more than capable of completing any task and, more often than not, would prefer that I don’t “help”, but she understands the need of my ego. Here I insert a symbol with words smashed together that I know nothing about and I believe am applying incorrectly as it may not be germane to the topic at hand (Así es la vida) #supportstrongwomen

Julie and I took blood tests. I wasn’t sure what mine was, so I order tests from the mercantile and they arrived in the mornings mail. I am O+ and Julie is A+. I read that in Japanese cultural that is considered to be the best pairing. I’m not sure if there is science to that, but anecdotally, in our house, it works out that way.

I believe my mind has settled now and I will return to the comfort of my bed in hopes of gaining some sleep before I spend a day completing Government forms.

Our very best to you, Your Best Beloved Husband, your Handsome Boys and their Beautiful & Handsome families.

Yours,

Your Brother and Sister-in-Law

_____________________________________

Thursday, April 9, 2020

My Dearest Sister - April 8, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

I fear my yesterday’s correspondence did not post. Suffice it to say, that is how it seems that things are going these troubled days.

The rains have returned and with it a chill in the air and a cloud of melancholy that falls upon me once more. I know this shall pass, but I find my mood does swings like the watch fob carnival show hypnotist, back and forth, back and forth… I am most fortunate to have your Sister-in-law her to keep me entertained and to snap me back to what is important when sorrow does overtake me.

I had read of Ms. Ross’s stages of grief but did not know I could feel them all within the same hour. I find them to be much like the weather in Vermont, unpredictable and ever changing. I draw a picture of a half-hearted smiling face so that you might believe I have come to the “acceptance” stage of the relevant topic. 😬

In our ongoing efforts to get your Sister-in-Law’s recording studio up to snuff I set about the task of running a wire through our cramped crawl space in the attic. No small deed I will tell you, and not one for the faint of heart or claustrophobic. I donned my protective coveralls, facemask, and gloves, and prepared a string of expletives that surely will be needed to complete the task at hand. If you do not know why expletives are needed for such a task, I believe your Best Beloved Husband would be more than happy to give you insight as to the necessity of course language applied to frustrating labors.

It would be an understatement to say that I was ill prepared for the infuriation that was required to run one thin wire a mere fifty feet across an attic floor. Many harsh words were yelled from the attic. Less you think this gave Julie worry, I remind you that she is of hearty Irish stock and no string of salty talk echoing from the rafters could bring blush to her beautiful cheeks.

At one point, while sliding my insulation covered body under the furnace for the sixth out eight times, when only two were required (again your BBH may be of assistance if you are not familiar with “home depot’s rule of home repair” in which multiple trips are made, when only one is truly needed), my back against the furnace, facemask in the insulation, the furnace kicked on… It was at that time that I realized why the Good Lord himself had put yoga in my life as I quickly chaturanga'd my ass out of there. I write you here to say that I am enjoying the thought of this in hindsight and that it brings laughter to my voice to think what a sight that must have been had anyone been there to bear witness.

We shall see what today brings us. I know I am blessed to have such tasks, a home to do them in, and a lovely Irish wife to share the time together that this wretched plague has brought. There are blessings to be counted and I am rich with them.

Amount our blessings is that you, your BBH, your boys and their loving families, and our adoring parents and friends are safe and as happy as these times allow.

Yours,
Your Brother and Sister-in-Law

_____________________________________
Lon Gowan is an actor/stuntman/writer and the most excellent brother a sister could ever want. His "My Dearest Sister" letters may be the best thing to happen to me during the COVID-19 Quarantines.

Julie Dolan is an actress, musician and favorite Irish wife/Las Vegas Showgirl. We were thrilled the day she married my brother.

Susan Terry is a mediator, consultant, musician, and storyteller as well being our Esteemed Mother. She and her Yankee Husband and Gentleman Farmer, Stephen Parker live in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont at High Reach Farm

Bill Quern is my Beloved Husband and we're known collectively as Box and String.

#COVID19 #LonGowan #MyDearestSister #Julie Dolan #Coronacation

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

Pandemic Challenge Levels, Anyone?

OK, as if it's not weird enough being quarantined, the universe has decided I need extra pandemic challenge levels.

Challenge Level 1: The liquor stores in Pennsylvania are closed. OK, this is a really low-level challenge because I can get wine at the grocery store and I don't really need the alcohol anyway, but it's the principle of the thing. You want to see Pandemic Panic up close and personal, close the liquor stores. That's when the sh*t gets real, y'all.

Challenge Level 2: An injury in some forgotten past caused my toenail to spontaneously disconnect itself... but only halfway. IT'S DRIVING ME BONKERS! I could deal with no toenail, but this halfway thing is cruel. Do I trim it? Do I leave it? Solution: wrap it in duct tape until November.

Challenge Level 3: My cat developed an anal gland abscess which requires me to chase him around the house applying hot compresses, rescuing him from cone traps, convincing him the water dish is not trying to drown him, and smearing honey on his butt. (I am not making this up.) This is NOT how I envisioned my super creative and introspective quarantine going down.

Can I just say the universe has a really warped sense of humor?

Tuesday, April 7, 2020

My Dearest Sister - April 7, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

To be able to converse with you this day on Mr. Bell’s magnificent wire was just one of the highlights of many that made my birthday so special. Your Sister-in-Law went to great pains to make today replete with festivities and surprises. We even had a rousing game of “hot – cold” which culminated when I was greeted by a wrapped present of new cooking pans!... and you know how much I enjoy the culinary arts!

We shouted across our humble road as our friendly neighbors greeted and toasted my birthday from a far. I’m sure that ever-vigilant Mrs. Karen Mycroft from next door was peering pursed lipped through her curtains in displeasure at our raucous revelry. Mrs. Mycroft would soon find her backside toasted by the boot of my Irish wife if she dared to come out to spoil the festivities that had been so cunningly and carefully planned and executed.

Most of my day was filled with greetings of well-wishing delivered to our otherwise solitude from all types of communications. I would have not been surprised in the least if there had been smoke signals on our horizon. I insert a drawing of a face in a smiling expression to represent humor is intended so that you may know this is a joke lest we start a conversation that begins “when did you learn to read smoke signals?”😃

Julie’s in-home recording studio is coming along nicely. It will not be long before she is able to broadcast her voice clearly over great distance. This should bring great comfort to her. Her efforts will be well rewarded, of that I am sure.

I was also gifted some luxurious bedding from my wife and a gift card from the amazon marketplace from my Sister-in-Law. Surprises were a plenty on this day.

Of surprises, I awoke to rain this morning. As the day cleared the clouds, I inspected the garden and, low and behold, the squash seeds have broken through the soil and are on their way. It will not be long before we start to see flowers.

I believe tomorrow will be a day of thank you’s and gratitudes for all the birthday wishes and salutations.

We count you, BBH, your boys and their loving families as some of our many blessings.

Yours,

Your Brother and Sister-in-Law

_____________________________________

Monday, April 6, 2020

My Dearest Lon - April 6, 2020

My Dearest Lon –

It is April 6, your birthday and I take pen in hand to communicate my warmest thoughts about you on this day of celebration.

While I was pruning trees in the Yule Tree Plantation (here I insert a small drawing to remind you of that of which I speak) 🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲 , I was trying to remember my clearest early memory of you. What came to me was a morning on a school day in 1974 or 75. I was living with the Taylors; their son Danny had been bullied at school the day before and was reluctant to return. In the door you walked, confident and breezy, said hello to everyone, put your arm around Danny and said “Ready? Let’s go.” The two of you walked happily out the door. Phyllis turned to me and said with considerable emotion, “That Lon Gowan is a remarkable young man.” I, who was beginning to take a warm personal interest in your mother, raised my eyebrows at this character assessment and thought to myself, “Hmmmm.”

So began the best event of my life, when the Terry-Gowan family came through the door. What luck that not long thereafter I should move back home to Vermont to live on the family farm. What even greater fortune that you all should make the journey with me! For me, it was merely a return home, to a place of familiarity and memory, but for you it was the pioneer spirit of your Celtic Appalachian ancestors re-embodied. Even today, you show the same enthusiastic spirit of adventure and enterprise in all you undertake.

Another happy memory among many is during after dinner kitchen clean-up chores developing humorous routines together. Oh how we did laugh. I particularly remember one about Dexter Poindexter, the bashful boy, hesitant about farming because he didn’t like getting his hands dirty. (Here I insert a jovial drawing to indicate how much I enjoyed this wonderful foolishness which ended many a hard day of work.) 🤣
I have been so very blessed to have you in my life and I feel that every day. Thank you for all the wonderful memories, much joy and laughter.

My warmest greetings to your lovely Irish wife. Your Saintly Mother and I miss both of you so much.

Your ever-loving father,

Steve

My Dearest Son - April 6, 2020

My Dearest Son –

Today I quietly sit reflecting on a time years ago when, as a young mother already with one child, I eagerly awaited the birth of my second. All had gone well and my three year old kept asking when her baby brother was going to arrive. Your birth father and I had decided with our oldest and now this soon to be sibling that we would await the birth to know whether we had been blessed with a boy or a girl. We knew we would be happy with either.

On that beautiful April day in New Orleans, the weather was most pleasant and warm, in the upper 70’s and low 90’s. We finally had some relief from the choking smoke from the underground fires that had been burning for over a month. At times the smoke was so thick that outdoors, one could not see more than eighteen inches ahead. Ambulances could not run and all fire trucks in the area were at the site of those most wretched fires. Much of that part of the city was built upon trash & fill which after a number of years had spontaneously combusted, creating a frightening health hazard. Of course, since it was so close to the birth of our already much loved child, we were concerned as to whether we could reach Ochsner hospital in time.

April 6, however, was clear and lovely. I had a doctor’s appointment and we were to go in for what we thought might probably be the next-to-last doctor's visit before the birth of the baby, due in two weeks. There at the doctor’s office, he graciously and professionally asked how I was feeling. I responded that I felt quite healthy and tippity-top except for some lower back pain. As he began to check my nether area to confirm all was well, he suddenly terminated the examination and announced that now would be a good time to head for the hospital; I was in labor. A number of hours later, you, my beautiful baby boy were here. We did not have a name chosen either for a boy or girl and so we began what was to be a very short discussion about how you would be addressed for the rest of your life. The name Lon, of course, was for your birth father’s grandfather, Lon Price. He was an itinerant preacher, builder, stone mason, fiddler, and singer. He, like you, was creative in so many ways. I was happy for that name not only because I dearly loved Granddaddy, but also because one of my favorite actors was Lon Chaney, Jr.

For your middle name we chose David which was the name of your father’s best friend, Carroll David Harris. Oh how we have merrily laughed over the years at the difficulty so many people had with your three-lettered first name. You received mail for Loon, Lawn, Lahm, Larn, L.N. and several others which I have chosen to forget. However, the favorite sobriquet of all was given to you by our dear friend Lena who always referred to you as “Mr. Lum Davis”.

I have, no doubt, exceeded your interest in and tolerance for stories of your birth day. I will also avoid sharing any of the more personal and possibly embarrassing stories of your dear childhood out of concern that some, other than close family members might find themselves, somehow, reading this communique. Their eyes should stay to their own business except possibly to read that your being in my life has been nothing but a dear blessing.

I thank the dear Lord that you have weathered the difficulties that life has given you and you have used the strength and wisdom gained to make you the amazing man you are today. I am so very proud of you and so happy that you found your wonderful Irish wife.

Much love to you today on your birthday. I am so sorry to not be there with you as Steve and I are every year, but I am grateful for this modern mail service that assists our household in connecting to yours.

As ever,
Your loving mother.

Sunday, April 5, 2020

My Dearest Brother - April 6, 2020

Happy Birthday, My Dearest Brother!

I'm sure this pandemic is not how you would choose to celebrate, but knowing you, I imagine you will make the best of a bad circumstance with a feast from your garden and dance with your Irish wife. I envision fairy lights in the perfumed trees and the soft strains of old familiar tunes emanating from the victrola on the lanai. If this is not how it befalls, please don't tell me differently, for I so enjoy my own imagination.

I have been quite industrious in the construction of cloth face masks for everyday wear. Our governor has been quite insistent that every one of us is to don one of the wretched things when in public and so I have taken it upon myself to create a design that is as comfortable and fetching as possible. I get closer with every permutation and hope that those who are wearing one made by my hand are not silently cursing me and my pitiful sewing skills.

Tomorrow I make an excursion to the local post office and hope that our couriers are up to the task of delivering my meager offerings to their intended recipients. I fear our pony express is as besieged by the fever plague as the rest of our nation, indeed the rest of the known world, and I only hope they can make do their promise to deliver in fair weather or foul. I offer up a prayer and a thank you for our delivery workers that they may stay healthy and strong in these trying times.

Back at home we have been enjoying several serial stories on the flickerbox, but I must say I am quite put out by a reoccurring distraction; namely the distinct lack of lighting in many of the scenes. While at first I thought it might be an artistic choice to set a dark and somber tone to a moment, I am beginning to suspect that the makers were attempting to save a penny by depicting as little as possible. Why pay for costumes and scenery one cannot see? Simply turn down the lights and leave the rest to the viewer's imagination! Well, if I wanted to use my imagination I would read a blooming book. Turn on the lights, you miserly pikers! Here I insert a code indicating the termination of my emotional outburst. #endrant

I have attached an image of myself wearing one of my own creations whilst enjoying the spring blossoms on our daily perambulation in our local burying ground. While a cemetery may seem an odd place to enjoy one's leisure, we find it is as inviting as any park and the inhabitants do not seem to mind our trespass. A walk amongst the deceased makes me enjoy being not-dead all the more.

So happy birthday, dear brother! We are so glad you were born and and even gladder you are not yet dead! Enjoy your day!

Your Sister,

Sarah

My Dearest Sister - April 5, 2020

My Dearest sister,

It is the eve of My birthday and there is a strong posssibilty that your sister-in-law may have given my a bit too much of Mr. jameisons' medicacinal whiskey....

To you, BBH, boys, their's...
Namiesta,

Your brother and Sister-in_law

Saturday, April 4, 2020

My Dearest Sister - April 4, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

Your Sister-in-Law and I arose with the sun, gathered our reusable handcrafted shopping sacks, 99.9% virus impenetrable masks, and a hardy handful of manufacturers coupons, and proceeded on an expedition to the local grocer that is not but a quarter mile from our home. The hour was so early that the market itself was desolate, but for a hand full of other shoppers who scurried about avoiding eye contact as if that was the overwhelming means of transmission of this most bothersome pestilence. I know what you must be thinking… coupons? Why yes, there is no reason to not save during these incredibly difficult times even if it is of a common practice like coupons. Which, I might add, along with our loyal customer discount, saved us a quarter of our substantial bill. “A penny saved is a penny earned” says Poor Richard.

After much cleaning and storing of our bounty, I set upon the repair of the picket fence. As with most household projects it took a turn into a more grandiose and rigorous venture than I had anticipated. My determination diminished to complete my labors in one day so I did what any reasonable person would do and halted my efforts entirely. As I sat on my porch bench looking beyond my gapped-tooth picket fence, I recalled that this would have been the time of our beloved Mother and our Yankee Father would have been at our residence for their yearly pilgrimage to our sunny coast. Perhaps it was not the inability to complete the task at hand in a timely manner that had me sunken into a woe after all. What a joy it would have been to tackle the labors at hand with the skills and craft of our Northern Patriarch at my side. As depression set in I had no recourse but fill the bird feeders and spend the rest of the daylight in the company of squirrels.

I have attached a few drawings from my watercolor sketch pad so that you might see the wonder that surrounds me. I pray you forgive my rudimentary skills and smudges as these were only intended as practice for later work. I tried mightily to draw a picture of your Sister-in-Law feeding peanuts to Squirt but as you can imagine it is difficult to get either of my quarry to remain still. Enjoy the wisteria against the house, orange blossom, and bee on camellia.

Julie and I did manage to partake in our yoga in the front lawn as the sun set. It was good to be in view of my half-completed project as we let calm and relaxation flow through us. In the end I concluded that it is a blessing that I have a fence that requires labors and that in this time of global uncertainty, my troubles are small in comparison and I am blessed to have things to occupy idle hands and mind. I also concluded, on much introspection, that I am quite optimistic when I say that my fence project is “half-completed”.

Many blessings to you, as always, your BBH too, your fine boys and their most endearing loved ones

Namaste,

Your Brother and Sister-in-Law

My Dearest Children - April 4, 2020

My dearest children –

I beg you will forgive my description of yourselves as such, for while Providence has not ordained that we should be of the same flesh and blood, yet do I believe that no natural father has felt more love, pride and joy in his children than I hold for you, my dearest ones.

Each day I feel new astonishment at the pinnacles you’ve climbed, both of achievement and character. Your Saintly Mother has kept me closely apprised minute by minute of all developments in your lives, and has read aloud each of your loving communications with each other. Their good humor has caused many a shared chuckle and, all too often, an unseemly guffaw, for which I am loathe to make penance.

I have warmed to the news from both of you of your interest and warm attention to the various wildlife in your neighborhood here I insert a small drawing to show that I have remembered some of the creatures you have mentioned, although I was loathe to draw a squirrel without a tail. 🐸🐿🐦

On the farm, here in Vermont the big barn, next to the Farmhouse, having been vacated by the last of the feral cats, is now inhabited by a family of voracious woodchucks, two rambunctious raccoons who have found a home in the pile of wooly insulating material on the second floor, and an enormous porcupine with such a placid and benign expression on his face that I find it impossible to bear him ill will, in spite of the fact that he has a fondness for wood that may cause him to consume portions of the barn itself. He has already shown a disturbing appreciation for the hemlock trees I have planted and tended around the building. I have named him Wendell, after my favorite writer, Wendell Berry.

I take myself off, more or less daily to the Yule Tree Plantation, (and here I insert a small illustration so you may be reminded of what I speak)🌲armed only with my trusty pruning saw, to restore order to the uncontrolled growth that it has become. As I saw away patiently at the thicket, above me the dark green tree tops drip down a cascade of water, snow, ice and pine needles. I am blessed with useful labor that is safe and fruitful to pursue, and a beautiful forested space in which to do it.

And now, my dear ones, it is time for me to take myself again to the YTP (once again, your reminder)🌲for more good labor, but be certain that now, as always, you remain deep in my heart. I close with a slightly edited version of the last two lines of another Robert Frost poem; “We work together, I said with all my heart, whether we work together or apart.”

Loving greetings to your dear spouses and children.

With deepest affection,
your auxiliary dad, Steve.

Friday, April 3, 2020

My Dearest Sister - April 3, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

The day has seemed to pass me by. I spent much of it in service of others and filling out form after form for assistance from the Government. I had several short breaks today where I was able to converse with friends on Mr. Bell’s wire, but for the life of me I will tell you I felt as though my labors were many and accomplishments few. Perhaps later when results flourish like beans on the vine I will understand why I toiled so today.

Your Sister-in-Law, on the other hand, was victorious in many regards. If this were the state fair, she would need a bushel basket for all her blue ribbons. Julie is making great strides with her new recording device and is sending file after file to those who request her talent. She is a marvel. Again I place an arbitrary symbol followed by words smashed together to denote that I’m aware of a cause that in actuality I know very little about, but by placing it, it will win me favor with those that do understand it. #supportstrongwomen.

I did wake early to find three fledgling Hummingbirds enjoying the birdbath I have attached a picture so that you may enjoy them. I do believe that one is the baby I have been so careful as to not harm.

All our best to you, your astounding BBH, you strong and courageous boy and their charming families.

Yours,

Your Brother and Sister-in-Law

Thursday, April 2, 2020

My Dearest Sister - April 2, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

This morning I went to check on the hummingbird nest and the nestling was gone. I do pray it has matured and flown away and not that some evil has fallen upon it. I no reason to suspect Squirt or his older friend, who your Sister-in-Law has aptly named Mr. Persnickety, of foul play, as the shear weight of their girth from feeding on bird seed and peanuts would surly break the branch if either made an attempt. I searched the ground beneath the branch and there was no sign of a grounded bird and no feathers to indicate there may have been a dastardly deed by a neighboring cat or an unfortunate tree rat. I did see Hummingbirds in the yard going about their hummingbird business, so my best hope is that it was time for the little one to take flight and I will see her at the feeder soon.

My planted seedlings are sprouting and bursting through the soil. I am eager to thin but must wait. For now, it is water and weed.

I spent some time on Mr. Bell’s wire today conversing with old friends. It was a delight to catch up.

I received a letter today that I believed to be from our Mother and yet, even though familiar, it seemed a bit strange. There was talk of tidying and cleaning that set my suspicions. Although Mother is never averse to labor and hard work, there is her work and then there is “The helps” work. I will correspond with her soon to make sure she is well, but I would not be surprised if someone is posing as her and will shortly be asking for money or informing us of a distant relative in need… beware.

Today while in the garden I heard a shriek from the house. I ran to see what the matter and your Sister-in-Law informed me that we had a lizard in the house. Now, while Julie will befriend Squirt and Mr. P, who are relegated to the back and front yards and are most certainly not welcome in the house; well, you can imagine that if that is the standard for them, then a lizard in the house she would not abide.

I took the broom from her hand before the reptile felt the full force of her Irish temper and scooped him up to take him outside. Julie was none too happy that I released him until I informed her that he ate spiders. She has agreed that he may inhabit the back with the squirrels and hummingbirds, but the indoors are most defiantly off-limits… spiders or not. Here is a quick drawing of the lizard so that you may know that it was indeed a lizard and you can tell that by the drawing that I have made to prove it so. 🦎 Here is a quizzical face that expresses that I was confused by my own words, but hope that you understand anyway so that I don't have to rewrite for better comprehension. 🤔

I pray you are happy and sound, as too you BBH, the Best Boys ever and their fanatical families.

Yours,

Your Brother and Sister-in-Law.

My Dearest Children - April 2, 2020

My dearest children and your beloved spouses –
Thank you so much for your recent letters informing us of your well-being and the daily goings-on such as lettuce planting, protective mask-making and such. There was truly sad news from each of you as there is daily on the flickerbox. Even in spite of that, your note of humor and looking upward has lightened my mood.
We are safe and snug in our cottage and usually in good spirits, yet today when noticing the dancing about of small white flakes mixed with glistening droplets falling from the sky I heaved a sigh. Here I insert a small picture which indicates my displeasure. ☹️
My Yankee husband and his brother headed out to the Christmas tree field on the hill behind our cottage this morning to work for a few hours. He is in hopes of taming the excessive growth of the trees so that he may reclaim the field for sales this year. Lord knows we are going to need the income by that time. Even if that were not the case, you know how he loves the holiday season and the sight of families and pets arriving in their various means of conveyances, laughing as they eagerly approach and ready to find their perfect Christmas tree. You see this small heart here ❤️ to indicate the joy and fulfillment he feels at this time of year. Our year, of course, is measured by the trees. Now we are in Cleaning up the field season, followed by shearing season, then mowing season, then preparation for the holiday season, then THE SEASON blessed by happy sounds of families in the field, which is then followed by Oh Please let me rest season. The seasons of our year are quite predictable even if other events are not.
Our kitties are quite well, as I know you were wanting to hear. It is a pity, Lon, that the dreaded Sneezing Cat Contagion prevents you from knowing our little ones better but I can only imagine that you hold them dear in your heart and any disparaging remarks are only made in jest.
Several days ago I was overtaken in a most vexing way. I suddenly felt the urgent need to clean the pantry. I cannot imagine what I was thinking or why it was important. These days no one comes to our house and if they did they wouldn’t be spending time in our pantry. Of course, those reasons aside, the strange part of this was my urge to clean anything. As you know, God has gifted me with a highly refined ability to ignore any household dishevelment. I am now wondering if this foolishness was some form of seizure or illness and the thought that it might descend on me again truly does give me the collywobbles. I must say, though, looking at a tidy pantry does give me a well-earned sense of satisfaction and perhaps just a touch of superiority over those few others with untidy storerooms.
I miss you all and look forward to the day when we can be together. I am greatly comforted by knowing of the love you have for one another. My love to you and my handsome grandsons and their dear partners.
For now,
Your loving mother Susan

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Lon Gowan is an actor/stuntman/writer and the most excellent brother a sister could ever want. His "My Dearest Sister" letters may be the best thing to happen to me during the COVID-19 Quarantines.

Julie Dolan is an actress, musician and favorite Irish wife/Las Vegas Showgirl. We were thrilled the day she married my brother.

Susan Terry is a mediator, consultant, musician, and storyteller as well being our Esteemed Mother. She and her Yankee Husband and Gentleman Farmer, Stephen Parker live in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont at High Reach Farm

Bill Quern is my Beloved Husband and we're known collectively as Box and String.

#COVID19 #LonGowan #MyDearestSister #Julie Dolan #Coronacation

Wednesday, April 1, 2020

My Dearest Sister - April 1, 2020

My Dearest Sister,

I’m sorry to hear of your recent sorrows. I hope this letter will serve as some small comfort.

I was happy that Mr. Singer has fulfill his obligation of replacing you machine. I was also delighted that your feline companion is becoming more accustom to his humiliation collar. Either he is more comfortable or just disdainful of other’s opinions. My experience with cats tells me that it would be difficult to tell either way.

We ventured out today as your Sister-in-Law had a new device arrive at the technicians and it was imperative that we retrieve it. Julie is setting up a new studio so that she might record her voice for advertisements, cartoon picture shows, and games of some variety, all that require her skillful renditions of the written word. There will be wires to run, which will require climbing into the crawlspace of the attic. I do hope she is not claustrophobic! I place the Onomatopoeia of “Ha-ha” so you know that I am telling a joke and not really sending my darling wife into the attic to run wires, even though, if need be, she is perfectly capable of doing so herself. I now place a “#” sign followed by words run together so that you may know I support a cause that, in actuality, I know very little, if anything about: #supportstrongwomen.

More time today spent learning about the Government programs and helping others file claims. I am glad your Governor is able to help your citizens and, more to the point, you and your family.

We would very much like masks from you. There is no need to waste good cloth on us, a simple patchwork of whatever is most convenient. The formal season is behind us here and judging by the attire in the neighborhood as people pass on their daily walks, we are but a week away from everyone just staying in their bed clothes all-day anyway. The only one that seems concerned about appearances at all is that nosey neighbor Mrs. Karen Mycroft and it is not her appearance she is worried about. Well, it is best she sweeps her own porch before she brings her nasty old corn broom over to my house to sweep mine!

I was informed that I am on the Netflicker Box starting today. I am on the fifth episode of a serial “Little Fires Everywhere”. It has that lovely woman, Ms. Witherspoon, who played Ms. June Carter Cash in “Ring of Fire”. I will tell you; she is just as lovely in person as you would imagine.

Again, we are very sorry for your grief and hold you and your dear friend Maria and her family in our hearts and prayers.

Our love to BBH, the boys, and their caring family,

Yours,

Your Brother and Sister-in-Law.