Holiday 1990

If you look up “procastination” in the dictionary, you will be directed to “Rosen, A&G.” It’s bad enough to miss the Channukay, Christmas, and New Years seasons, but we’s surpassed even our previous low by missing Groundhog’s day. This year is the pits—we’ve incurred a financial penalty for our tardiness by failing to get this in the mail before the postal rates went up. That really steams our britches! On the bright side, your friendship means so much to us, and we think our lives so intrinsically fasinating, that it’s worth the 16% increase in cash money expended.

So, on to the good stuff. Alena, who is now 3.75 (and don't you forget that extra quarter year!) started nursery school in September. She simply refuses to be seen in public without a dress and party shoes. Her entire wardrobe is pink, purple, and turquoise, and she wants to be “something pretty” when she grows up, “like a ballerina or a princess.” We have questions as to her true biological maternity. She’s bright, talkative, and extremely social, has a mind of her own, and is generally a delight.

Seven year–old Danny has discovered that learning to read not only gives him inspiration from the exploits of Calvin and Hobbs, but has the added advantage of getting his bedtime extended. His list of favorite subjects in school, formerly restricted to gym and recess, has grown to include astronomy and Ancient Egypt. He and his Dad have worked out a hilarious (when Geonn remembers hi lines) version of Abbott and Costello’s Who’s on First. For real fun, Danny has recently added swimming lessons to his basketball and soccer activities, and plays a mean game of “Clue.”

Ann(dy) contineus to juggle motherhood and four other freelance jobs, three PTA committees, two fuzzy dust bunnies and a partridge in a pear tree. She ran away from home again last June for a week of Washington wilderness on the Olympic Peninsula. She returned refreshed and invigorated and just in time for assorted summer activities. These included an annual pilgrimage to Upper Lake Chateaugay in the northern Adirondacks for two weeks collective Dannenbergs and their offspring, followed by a week of “Family Camp” on Sebago Lake in Maine. The latter adventure gave Anndy the opportunity to try water skiing for the first time, which she adored in spite of the cries of her environmental conscience.

Glenn’s non–remunerative yet incredibly dull lab work proceeds apace. He continues to bore a whole new generation of Wellesley College women with his ruminations. Glenn found himself in Barcelona this summer for a conference, the highlight of which was being an audience to a half–hour sound check by the Rolling Stones while perched on the roof of the Miró Fondation. Upon his return to the US, he, too, learned how to waterski at Family Camp, but learned an even more important lesson: that a 35 year–old lab potato can exhibit remarkable reflexes when forced to dodge multi–faceted projectiles launched off the feet of 17 year–old varsity soccer players. Unfortunately, he was in goal at the time.

We wish you all a happy and helathy year. We fervently hope that our next missive will be written a) on time and b) in a time of international peace.

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