Making of a Christmas Card, 2024

Unlike some years, there was never any doubt as to what this year’s Christmas card would be. I took the basic image last Christmas Eve.

Last Christmas was a pretty dismal one. Mum had died just a couple of weeks before, and to make matters worse, her funeral was a super spreader event. Everyone was sick with either COVID or a bad cold; I was in the latter category. While I tested negative, I felt pretty miserable for the several days before Christmas, and had to cancel the plans I’d made with my sister for Christmas Eve.

By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, I was feeling slightly better, and didn’t feel like just sitting around the house feeling miserable for myself, so I decided to drive down to Nantasket to see the ocean, and hopefully, some pretty Christmas lights. I drove all the way to the end of the spit, took a few pictures of a Christmas tree decorated with lobster buoys, then turned around. By this point it was late dusk. As I approached the beach again, I saw a gazebo decorated with white lights. I pulled over, and took a bunch of pictures from a bunch of angles. I knew almost immediately that would make a good card.


Since I’ve moved, I decided I wanted the card to also serve as a change of address notification. I bought a wreath for the front door, a kissing ball to hang next to the door, and a small pot of evergreens for the front steps (I’m new here, and I didn’t want to poke the homeowner’s association. From some of the other units I’ve seen here, I could have gone a bit bigger). My first thought was to get a shot of me coming out the door with the decorations around me, so I put the camera on the tripod, and took some pictures using the remote control.

Well, they certainly weren’t winners. I hadn’t realized how grumpy my normal expression was. Expression aside, which was fixable, I realized I was blocking the wreath, and the other elements weren’t reading well either. So I shot another set of pictures with the phone one evening without me in the picture, but the doorway lit up.

When it came to make the card, I decided to go with one of the straight on shots of the gazebo. It’s not as wide angle as some of the others, and the tree inside is more prominent.

Gazebo, from straight on
The chosen image. Straight on, more or less normal perspective.

Because the lights were LEDs, they had a slightly greenish tint which I didn’t care for. So I took it into Photoshop, masked it so that only gazebo itself was selected, and applied a slight color correction to get rid of the green on the gazebo. I wanted the lights to look warm. On the other hand, I wanted the tree green, so I added another color adjustment layer, for just the tree, to make it greener. I wanted the colored lights on the tree to be more colorful, so I added a Vibrance adjustment layer for the lights.

Finally I wanted a little bit of a glow on the lights, so I duplicated the background layer, blurred it, set the duplicate’s opacity to 63%, and applied a layer mask so the blurriness only appeared over the lights.

Final image
Final image with color adjustments and a slight glow on the lights.

I then switched to Pages. I started by duplicating last year’s card, and replaced the cover image with the new one. Choosing the right font took a while. I wanted a serif font with a small caps style. Pages doesn’t support small caps natively, so I had to fudge it by using two sizes of text. Choosing the color was a bit of a process too. I like to use “Christmassy” colors of red, gold or green for the card text, but with the deep blue of the background, gold didn’t feel right, and the red was OK… but after a couple of cards I decided I wanted more contrast between the dark red and the dark blue, and added a one pixel orangey-red stroke around the letters to make the letters stand out more. I then moved to the inside of the card.

I decided to make the “change of address” notification on the left leaf, and the main card greeting on the right. I placed the picture of the front door in the middle of the left page, and added a note with my new address. For the right side, I used my traditional Christmas greeting.

There was one year when I was able to get the printer to print both sides of the card in one operation, but for the past few years I haven’t been able to get it to do so cleanly, and have had to feed each sheet twice, which is always error prone. This year, I happened to remember there was a setting for printing on thicker stock, tried it and was gratified to see that I was able to print both sides of the card without problems.

Final image - Merry Christmas with picture of gazebo
Cover of the final card.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

First Tree

We put up my first Christmas tree in my new home last week. Because we were doing the decorating on a work night, I spread the work over several evenings — it takes a while to get the tree into the stand, get it into the house and get the lights on it. I picked up the tree and got it into the stand after work on Tuesday. It was easier than it used to be in the old place; I used to have to bring it onto the porch, mount it, then carry it through the dining room to the living room. Here, I have a deck right off the living room, so I mounted it outside, then brought it inside and put it in the corner, not far from the sliders.

I think I wound up with a bigger tree than I’m used to. The tree was certainly a lot more expensive. But the ceilings here are taller than the old place. I used to have them make a fresh cut on the tree, then take more off both the top and bottom once I got it onto the porch. This time, they took six inches off the bottom, and I didn’t take anything more off. I did have to trim a little off the top, but I would have wanted to do this anyway, as the top spike extended about ten inches from the bulk of the tree. Tuesday night was damp, so I left it to dry overnight before getting the lights on it.

Wednesday, I added the lights. It took all the lights I had to cover it. I’ve been using LED lights for several years now, but they’re second generation lights that are a little bit less blue than the original LED lights. I also put up the window lights in the dining/living area. These windows look out to the back and aren’t visible from the street, though the side lights might be visible from the neighbor to the back. Really, the lights are more for me, to cast a glow in the room.

Thursday, my sisters and brother came over and we decorated the tree. I brought over most of the decorations from the old place– the tree decorations, the Christmas stable Dad made when I was a toddler, and a lot of the miscellaneous Mum had picked up over the years. We got the tree decorated, and I’ve noticed the girls put up some of the other decorations around the place.

It’s really pleasant to just sit with the room lights out and the tree lights on and listen to Christmas music.

Blue Hills Brush Fire

There were brush fires in the Blue Hills last week. You could smell the smoke from here, and coming home on Tuesday, you could even see it.

I used to live close by, and I still often take the motorcycle through there. So, I followed the news closely. Fortunately, the rain over the weekend had put the fires out, at least for now, so I made a point to take a drive through there.

It turns out I’d slightly misunderstood where the fires were. I thought they were on the part of Hillside between the police station and Chickatawbut; instead, it was nearly directly opposite the Houghtons Pond parking lot.

I’ve been saying for years that the area was due for a fire — the area along the road has been choked with dead wood and brambles for over a decade. It looks like the fire started near the edge of the road, then climbed the hill a bit.

I walked a little way — a very little way — into the burned out section, and it was dispiriting to see how much broken glass was there. This glass looked like it had been through the fire, so clearly, people had been treating it as a trash can for quite a while. Odds are, the fire was probably started by someone flicking a cigarette out their car window as they drove by.

The fire destroyed a fair number of trees, probably affected wildlife, and could have threatened homes if the wind had shifted and it had been able to jump the road. But it also looks like it’s cleared out a lot of the underbrush, and that’s probably to the good. It would not surprise me if the DCR chose to conduct controlled burns further up the road, once the drought subsides, to get rid of the fuel load there.

Once I had finished looking at the burned out area, I drove past the Trailside side, then back along Unquity Road and back along Hillside again. It looks like those areas are fine.

Uncle Tom

We got some horrible news today. Uncle Tom died in his sleep last night.

Tom with oak stump

It was quite a shock — Tom always seemed both indefatigable and invincible. When he “retired” to the Cape, it was only a retirement from employment; he was always working hard around the two Cape houses.

Tom was my Dad’s youngest brother, the youngest of nine children. Their own father died while he was quite young, and so he got quite close with his older brothers. Family was very important to him.

He and my mother were very close, dating back to the time when Dad was working nights, Mum was a newlywed, and he’d drop by their apartment on the way home from hockey. He always gave her a preferred spot in the Cape House schedule, valued her opinion, and during her last decline, made a point of making the two hour trip off-Cape to see her.

He took an interest in me. He’s probably the person most responsible for my interest in photography; while he was in Vietnam, he sent back a complete darkroom set. When we were fourteen, he decided to take his two nephews, my cousin Bill and me, with him on a trip to Maryland and DC to visit his fiancee, Susan. Not many guys would have bothered, especially on a trip to see their girlfriend, but Tom did, and we had a great couple of days. We did a whirlwind tour of the capital, taking in the Smithsonian, the Washington Monument, and the Capitol. This was the time of the Watergate hearings, and I distinctly remember Senator Sam Ervin mugging to the gallery.

Tom could be intense, sometimes uncomfortably so. I got the impression he didn’t care for my Elementary Education major (he was right) and wanted me to go for a masters degree. For a while, due to the intensity, I avoided him, but after a while, he either mellowed, or he gave up, or I learned to not to take it personally.

Just as well, because he was a lot of fun to be around. Tom had a great sense of humor, and while we didn’t agree politically, he was always fun to talk to. He was also fun to work with– Tom liked to work and he was good company while doing so. He never talked down or made you feel stupid for not being as adept as he was; he took you as you were and accepted any help you could give.

When Tom had to remove a tree, he didn’t just cut it down. No. That would be too easy. Instead, he would undercut the roots with his beloved Kubota, then drag it out of the ground via main force. As recently as last week, my brother and I were making plans to go down and help him take down a tree.

And that’s one of the things that stings the most about this. All summer, I’ve been wanting and meaning to get down there to say hello. Mum’s illness has left me aware of how fragile health can be, and I’ve been wanting to see Tom while he was still fully himself, but the move took up nearly all my time for several months, and now it’s too late. If there’s a consolation, it’s that he died in his sleep, and didn’t go through a long period of decline. My cousin Mary sent us a picture of him taken just last week, walking his grounds with his dog, and joking about the high astronomical tide giving him “waterfront property”.

Family was important to Tom. He was close to his brother George, helped take care of Grandma, and always spoke highly of my Dad. He and Susan always seemed like a tight couple, and they raised three great children, all three of whom went through the service academies. He and his family were staples at Mum’s Christmas Eve parties, and he will be very sorely missed.

11/11

Tomorrow is November 11. Mum’s birthday. The first birthday without her.

Mum was very proud of her birth date. When asked for her birthdate, she would just rattle it off. She loved that it was a holiday — for her, growing up, it was Armistice Day, the anniversary of the day fighting stopped in World War I. I’ve read stories of the end of the war, how at the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, the shooting stopped and troops on both sides, cautiously at first, and then joyously, came out of their trenches and embraced their former enemies.

The holiday became Veteran’s Day in 1954, and for a while, it was one of those moveable Monday holidays, but eventually, it returned to November 11th.

As for me, I’ll still be thinking of Mum. We met at the house today to try to figure out what to keep and what to leave for the liquidators. I’d never quite realized what a pack rat she’d become in her later years until I was responsible for dusting all her teapots, and today, going through all her old papers to figure out what to keep and what we could get rid of. She still had old bills from the 1960s in her files.

Birthdays and anniversaries are times for celebrations — until the person you’re celebrating isn’t around anymore. Then they become times to remember. Seems like I’m celebrating less and remembering more as time goes on. Tomorrow, I’ll be remembering Mum.

New Home

For the first time in my life, I’ve moved to a new home.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived in the same house, the house I grew up in, which was also the house my mother grew up in. I have a picture of it from 1940, in the same set as one with my grandparents with their children, including my mother at three.

We kept Mum at the house for as long as we could, but eventually she needed more attention than we could give her, even with hired aides. So I’ve been rattling around the house by myself for the past couple of years. It just wasn’t the same.

It took a while to figure out what I wanted to do with myself. A year ago, I was leaning towards moving on. But I wasn’t ready to make the move, and when Christmas came around, I liked maintaining the traditions of having everyone at the house.

I was also not thrilled with the idea of moving. I have a lot of crap, most of it all over the place, and I didn’t want to deal with uprooting myself. I’ve also felt very strongly that I wanted to keep the house in the family.

But the house is owned jointly by myself and my siblings, and it wasn’t fair to them to just coast on as I had been. And Brian, in particular, was pressing for a decision.

So I started looking at apartments. I was looking for two bedrooms, so that I could have a dedicated place to work. I was also looking for a place that had space for my toys — I have both a kayak and a motorcycle. I wasn’t finding much in the price range I was looking at.

So I kind of oozed into the decision to buy the house for myself. The trouble is, the house needs a lot of repairs. The kitchen is old, and the floor is coming up, The bathroom tiles are cracked. I figured I’d need to get a roommate to help defray expenses, but I was kind of OK with that — I’d go days without having anyone to speak to.

But, I found I wasn’t thrilled with that. So, trying to come to a decision,I started looking at open houses, and the very first place I saw, a condo on the Stoughton/Canton line, I could see myself living in. Nice space, bright, modern appliances. It threw me a little as there was very little outside space. I looked at a couple others that weekend, but nothing seemed to fit as well.

The following week, I started the process of looking in earnest. I got in touch with a buyers agent, Kristen Sylvia, and made arrangements to see the condo again — I wasn’t sure of my first reaction, and I wanted another look. I also talked to my financial advisor — could I even be thinking of buying a place? He reassured me. I also started talking to lenders, and got my pre-approvals lined up.

Unfortunately, the condo sold before I could take another look. So I started the process of looking at listing and visiting places. I saw a couple of real pits, and one place that was almost adequate, but seemed to be compromised in a lot of ways.

A week or so afterwards, a couple more units in the same complex opened up. This was hopeful… and also a little suspicious. One of the lenders I’d spoken to had cautioned me that there could be problems with some condo complexes, and when I asked about that one, indeed, there was a litigation cloud hanging over it. So I scratched that from the list.

The lead I was looking for came from my brother in California, of all places. He found a listing on Zillow for a condo that seemed to check all my boxes — room for an offfice, room for my toys, modern appliances, and a condo — I realized over the summer, I was getting tired of spending my weekends on maintenance,.

So I took a look at it, and it was really promising. Two story townhouse, in really good shape, with half of a two car garage. Two bedrooms, a half bath on the ground floor and a bathroom complex on the second floor with laundry. We made an offer, for a little over the asking price… and heard nothing.

Next, I noticed that they were having a second open house the following weekend. Not good. I mentally started backing down from this place. Over the weekend, the listing was updated to read “Multiple offer situation”, but nothing had been said to us. Come Monday, still no news, Kristin was getting very frustrated with the seller’s agent’s lack of communication.

Finally, on Tuesday evening, the sellers agent sent out a general email to everyone who had made an offer (there were 10) that they had accepted another offer. So much for that.

Except the next morning, as I was eating breakfast, Kristen texted me back — the winning offer had fallen through. The sellers were going to choose between the next two offers, one of which was mine. We sweetened it just a little, and they went with it.

Kristen was great to deal with. She arranged for a home inspector to check out the place — he found a lot of minor homeowner “honey-do” type items, but nothing serious — and also connected me with a real estate attorney to deal with getting the contracts in order. I kept waiting for Murphy’s Law to rear its head, but it never did.

I spent the next few weeks finalizing the paperwork, and starting to pack, and closed September 18th.

The old house has been the center if the family for ages — Mum liked to entertain, and it had been the family place for Christmas Eve for decades. So Karen and I both wanted to have one last party for the extended family there. Complicating matters, Brian was also moving, and had limited availability to help me move. So we had the family party on Saturday, September 21 and a U-Haul rented for the furniture the next day. I spent the couple of days before hand getting the kitchen set up and moving some books and photos over. I was officially in residence at the end of the day on Sunday. Sort of.

I’d bought a new desk for the office, and it took longer to put together than anticipated — the office was a disaster zone for the first week, as was the bedroom, with a couple of wardrobes to unpack. There was also a ton of stuff left over at the old place that I needed to bring over, bit by bit– I did a poor job of packing up my personal stuff, and there was a fair amount of stuff in the cellar that needed to come over. I took the seats out of the back of the car several weeks ago (I love my Element) and I still haven’t been able to put them back. I finally feel, though, that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. This weekend was the first one in a long time that I felt like I could take time off; I ended up going for a long trip on the Charles this afternoon. I have some remaining Christmas stuff, and possibly a stereo, and then my car can become a four-seater again.

So, how am I feeling about it? Surprisingly OK, considering I’d spent my whole life in the old place. There was definitely a time a couple of years back when I would have been a lot more upset, and I suspect there may be waterworks when we actually sell it. I’d hoped one of the younger relatives could have taken it and kept it in the family. But I’ve spent the past couple of years kind of backing away from the old place. And I really like this place, and I love that it’s mine.

Sixty Years of the MBTA

Today marks the sixtieth anniversary of the day that the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority (MBTA) took over the Boston transit system from the previous Metropolitan Transit Authority (MTA). The previous MTA had covered 14 cities and towns, and it was recognized that Greater Boston’s transportation needs were more regional; the MBTA district originally covered 78 cities and towns and now includes over 100.

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Quechee Balloon Festival 2024

I decided once again to book a flight at the Quechee Ballooon festival. I had high hopes after last year’s washout, especially considering that the weather had been great in 2012, 2013 and and 2018.

I’d originally planned to take the motorcycle up. I’d booked my flight for Friday evening, figuring that if there was a weather problem, there was more of a chance of picking up a standby flight. As the weekend got closer though, it became apparent that there were thunderstorms due to roll through.

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Six Months

Today marks six months since Mum died. I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Day to day, I’m mostly OK; just working or hanging around. I seem to be wasting most of my time off just playing game or watching YouTube. I do feel like I’m rattling around in this empty house.

Other times, I find myself really missing her. I went to see Vienna Teng for the first time in years a couple weeks back, and I was afraid I was going to lose it if she sang “The Tower”, because Mum was very much The Tower, “the one who survives by making the lives of others worthwhile”.

Sure enough, she did sing it, and I did get a catch in my throat, when she sang the part “I need not to need/I’ve always been the tower” and remembered how much she hated needing me to help her, after her strokes, but I was able to hold it together and enjoy the rest of the show.


When a sailing ship has to sail against the wind, it can’t do so directly. It has to approach the wind diagonally zig-zag fashion; this is called tacking. Occasionally, if the ship isn’t trimmed right, or if the ship is turned onto the next tack before it has gathered enough speed, it will be “caught in irons,” stuck, with its sails shivering uselessly. The only thing the crew can do is back the sails, get back on the previous tack, gather way, and try again.

I feel like I’ve been caught in irons, and am just starting to make way.

Waterfire, June 1, 2024

I first went to Waterfire shortly after starting to work in Providence. My coworkers were talking about it, so when there was a Friday Waterfire scheduled, I decided to stick around for it.

I often went while I was working in Providence, but less so once I stopped. At some point, I asked Mum if she’d like to go; she was always good for tagging along, and it turned out she enjoyed it too.

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