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2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm.  In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October.  Our daughters are doing well, Thank God.  Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment.  Funny enough when ...

She's Not Exactly Betty White

She? Yes, she is not exactly Betty White. Nibbles is cute and funny, though. She's one of our two bunnies now nearing 100 years old. She at times appears to need a wheeled walker absolutely, with tennis balls. But instead, I've now spotted her, little rugs covering our living room to dining room floors. Not too many of them, for she would think she was close to a litter box and then there'd be a big mess.  Right now, I'm working mostly remotely. This allows for me to check on her four times a day. Too, I've made my office temporarily in our dining room.  And thank God for all that. Because I have to make certain her right leg that can no longer function as part of her hopping mechanics to get around, does not get hung up on the side of the litter box. I have to clean her hay excursions, she cannot always control her hay poops, never mind her bladder. That's where my excessive laundry loads have headed. No big deal. I barely use the dryer. I have a drying rack a...

Balloons Are Amazing

Especially the ones that have helium in them. Balloons for some reason seem to be a sign of happiness. I remember as a child when our family would go to the annual Fireman’s Picnic near Labor Day weekend. It was an annual event put on by the volunteer fire department my dad belonged to. I can’t remember what I loved the most about it. Yet, I could say the helium balloons were in the top three items at that celebration of sorts for me. The hamburgers were a gift from God. Not the kind of food I saw regularly, because it was once a year. I can’t recall any other time I’d eaten a hamburger at home. We could afford chicken. We’d eaten squirrel, which had actually been shot by one of my dad’s friends when firing of what I believe was a BeeBee gun. And venison was had when one of my dad’s friends hit a deer with his late 1960’s early 1970’s suburban vehicle in Maine, totaling it of course. Too, for a few summers we’d received massive amounts of blue fish for free. It’s still my favorite food...