In 1994, I started sending Christmas newsletters to replace my fish updates. Partly this was just practical -- I'd said all I had to say about fish -- but mostly it was an excuse to send photos of my iguana, Alex. I alluded to - but could not mention - that my father passed away that January, just a few days after the Northridge earthquake destroyed my parents' house. (He died of heart failure. It had nothing to do with the earthquake and it was just bad luck that my mother lost her house of 10 years and her husband of almost 30 years within the same week.) 

Christmas '94 Newsletter

We are sending you this letter because: (check one)
___ It's Christmas
___ We want to annoy and harass you
___ We had to send a letter before postal rates went up

We are all looking forward to the new year, if only because the old year was so terrible. Santa knows what I want, and I know he can't do it. So we go on.

As always, I'll concentrate on the good news, so this should be quick. It seems rather pointless to include a tree of the Hesling-Morin clan; the apples keep falling and there aren't any more roots...

In 94, I moved into a new home and got a new job, but enough about me. Dawn was *this* close to finishing school, so the school changed the rules. One more semester, 9 units, while working full time, and either A) Dawn will have her associate's degree in legal studies, or B) Dawn will go bonkers and no doubt take half the city with her. Watch your local news to find out...

(By the way, Dawn and I were contemplating marriage on the grounds that it might save us some money for health insurance, but with my new job it would cost us more money--so we'll continue to live in sin, thankyouverymuch.)

Hope you enjoyed the picture of Alex the iguana. He's topping four feet now and we expect his hormones to kick in sometime next spring. I also understand they pick up on women's menstrual cycles. Should be interesting.

We had a couple of aftershocks yesterday, but it was 65° and sunny in December. Any questions?

Plans are still on for the GA-PA visit in April. It's wedged tightly between spring break and D's mother's birthday. If we survive, I'll tell you all about it. (Except the parties we're visiting, of course--I may want to be invited back someday.)

There's more, but I don't want to bore you, so I'll let you get back to your thrilling lives. Oh, and Uncle George--please stop sending me death threats. Nobody here wants to know how you'll kill yourself if I send you one more Fish Update.