2020 in Review, Christmas-letter style

I have links to the Christmas letter. I sent out lots, thinking partly that it might be my last chance. 2020 was like that.

This is being written afterwards, but I'm backdating it so 2020 has more than one post.

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2020 Christmas (if you'd rather go to the website version right away)

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2020 Christmas
Sandra Dodd

(You could skip to the good part about how this whole Christmas card is a picture of the basket.)

BUSINESS:

Please don’t feel bad if you didn’t send me a card. Don’t. It’s stressful. Let it go. Maybe send me a text or e-mail, or you could click “like” on some facebook thing. That’s plenty.

PERSONAL:

I made this letter from me, because Keith didn’t want to tell people he had another “cardiac episode,” but because it’s my story, I will tell you that we learned this much, on August 9: an implanted defibrillator can wake a guy up and put him back on schedule, heartbeatwise. Keith is well, swimming, splitting wood, playing music (more info at the link below).

Grandchildren review/news (all are well, as are their parents):

Devyn (2009)
Ivan (2017)
Kirby Athena (2018)
Tommy Kore Lynn (2019)
Wynona/Wynnie (2020)

I am informed that this is to be the full set, forever, including by Holly, who has recently moved into her own home, much nearer to the artsy vegetable farm where she works. I’m happy that all of our kids and kid-in-laws are employed, all from home except for Holly.

THE GOOD PART:

The card is a picture of a basket. Gerard David apparently owned a basket, five hundred years ago, and worked it into at least three paintings. In this one it is clearly a diaper bag—rolls of swaddling cloths are showing.

TIME OUT: I've put this letter online with links and images, if you'd rather.
sandradodd.com/2020

A few years ago I read a book called Vermeer's Hat, by Timothy Brook. It’s about connections among people and places, and how the Dutch East India company traded with China, which led to the blue-and-white ceramic magnet of a windmill that I (and many others) own. But in between those things were stories of ships and Spanish silver mined in South America, and how the travel and exchanges of goods were working. History and connections, technology and art.

Many of Vermeer’s paintings were made in the same room, with the same window, sometimes the same props, art, or map. Vermeer’s Hat is about his stuff. I enjoyed the whole story, and all the images.

So time passed, and I had one Gerard David image on my website. A few years later, I found a second one, out in the wild. Same basket. I got excited and did web searches for discussions of that, but I didn’t find anything. Cool!

This year I happened to see an SCA-related discussion of baskets somewhere, and there, right there, was the same basket. Another Gerard David! There was some artistic license in the color, but still…

As if that weren’t exciting enough, when I went to look for Christmas cards this year, what pops up but Gerard David and his basket.

Thanks to Julie and Adam, I got to see a Gerard David painting in London. No basket there. I was a little disappointed that he wasn’t Spanish, as I had first guessed. When I was a kid, the two male neighbors closest to my age were Gerard Vigil, to the southeast, and David Sanchez to the north, so the name was easy for me to remember. Gerard David was not Spanish, but Dutch, as was Vermeer. He lived in Italy a while, and ended up in Brugge until his death, all before Vermeer was born.

These connections are a reminder that even from home, we can explore the world, thanks to other people’s clues and unintentional gifts, and the wonders of the internet these days, with so many detailed photos.

I could be sad at home, or I can be happy. I have years of practice at conjuring and sharing happiness. Keith knows that sometimes I fail. I get scared, or have a bad dream, or feel sorry for myself, but I revive and recover and put out one more Just Add Light and Stir, where people can peek into moments in other families, viewpoints of other people, and sightings of birds or lizards on other continents, in other seasons. There are words and ideas people can take in for a moment, or an hour, or to keep. Then I feel better.

I hope next year is easier and sweeter for all of us. If it is, your memories of an expansive world should allow you to jump on and ride it.

Best wishes for peace and health!

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If you got this far without going to the letter with images and links, here are previews (which are links, too).

Very large children

...or: Young Adults at Christmas I have no more shopping to do. There's a 25-year-old piece of wrapping paper I intended to have laminated for Holly, but I can do it later. I got it in England in the late 70's and it's a photo of antique keys laid out all parallel to one edge or another, and lots of them. I've pulled it out to look at it many times, and once it was up on a wall. Now it's in a tube. The gifts... music and movies, mostly. Some clothes. A couple of books. Everything is something at least two people would like (not counting the clothes, I mean--not interchangeable for sizes). There's nothing there that the recipient won't be willing to share with others, so we'll all be rich in music and movies. There are a few toys, but not many. We're getting to that point now. We were all going to go to some friends' open house tomorrow (Christmas Eve), but Marty got a new job and said "sure" to everything, including "Can you work Saturday?" So it will be all but Marty. At 3:00 Keith and I are going carolling with three other friends we've sung with on and off for a long time. We're going to run through a few things and organize ourselves, and then go look at lights and go to a few homes of friends and relatives. I didn't pick any places. I don't care and want it to be as low-key a deal as possible. I tried to persuade Holly to come with us, but she'd rather stay home. That's not a tree. It looks pretty good in the dark (not as good with a flash); it's just lights and tinsel run back and forth between a semi-circular hanging candle holder and some eye-screws put into the plywood platform that once had tile, before an indoor fountain malfunctioned some years back... I had planned to get a real tree, but a couple of the kids liked this thing I'd done for the past couple of years. It is easier, less expensive, and ecologically holier-than-I-am, but I don't get to use my very-many tree decorations and the house doesn't smell piney. I'm enjoying having older kids. I do miss the excitement and toy-stuff, but each of the kids thought of something very sweet for at least one of the others. Marty has two things for Holly and nothing for Kirby, but he'll probably take him to a movie or something before long. Holly has two things for Kirby. What Kirby ordered for Marty might not be here before Christmas, but it's altogether a peaceful, generous, patient year as this stuff goes. There is my Christmas info-dump and souvenir report.