Here is one reason you (we) aren’t hearing much from Gabriel on this blog lately:

This is his schedule for next week. Now, it might look manageable until you consider that for every hour spent in class he should spend two or three out of class doing homework. We’ve quit saying “maybe next semester will be easier” and changed our mantra to “in so-and-so many months we’ll be done.”

I was telling him my brilliant idea for holiday cards this year, and he wondered if he’d be put through the torture of participating in a family photo shoot. He thought maybe I could Photoshop him into a picture of our family. I said I could do better than that; we could put his picture in an oval in the corner of the photo like they do for deceased family members. Underneath it we could print, “Gabriel Jantzi, dearly beloved husband and father. We look forward to reuniting with you in about 20 months when you’re done with that ding-dang-dong vet school.”

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Baby is due in a week and a half, more or less. My family doctor assured me yesterday that I’ll go into labour today “at 4:00, and it’ll all be over by tea time.” He was joking, of course, but I’m pleading with this baby not to take TOO long to come out, because if it does, Mama will go OFF HER HEAD.

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Last night from about 11:30 to 1:00 we listened to the neighbor’s adult son as he sat in front of their outdoor fireplace, listened to loud Christmas and country music, drank beer, and shouted randomly into the fire. (I got the giggles when “Country Roads, Take Me Home” came on. Does anyone else who worked at Yoder’s Restaurant remember Moose belting that out on his gittar?)

“Is he retarded?” Gabriel wondered. “Why would you drink yourself stupid all alone on a Friday night? How could be any fun?”

I suppose someone else might look at the schedule above  and wonder how that could be any fun, too. These are the mysteries we ponder at midnight.