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Michael Morrissey
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Christmas 2018: The Goat Returns...and Returns...and Returns

12/7/2018

10 Comments

 
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Family and Friends,
​One and All
To Own One Was to Love One
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Once upon a time there was a young boy who had been studying the new Sears catalogue since its arrival in the post in October. He visited the toy section countless times, in fact until the catalogue automatically opened to the same page when flipped onto its spine. The object of his admiration was a one-cylinder steam engine, a vertical brass water tank with valve and filler stopper, and a two- inch flywheel burnished with brilliant brass. It was, he told his parents, the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen, and he would be the best of boys, if only it could be his Christmas gift.

Having announced his preference he could only wait out the agonizing weeks in the run-up to Christmas. Suddenly one morning there appeared a square box under the tree. He picked it up, shook it, and went looking for his dad. "Dad, Dad, give me a clue...what's in it?"

"Well," Dad said, "It's got some rubber on it." The box was about the size of a basketball. I could only think that a dreadful shopping error had been made. "It's a basketball," I said sotto voce, with gloom all over my puss. Dad registered no response. I put it back under the tree and pouted my way out of the living room.

On Christmas morn, gaily decorated paper was being rent asunder and tossed about the tree.  I lingered over the square box that surely contained a run-of-the-mill inflated sphere. Finally there was nothing left for me to open, so I began to rip it apart. No gift was opened with tender care at our house. When the box had been pried open I looked inside. It seemed sort of empty, with a good bit of filler paper inside. Suddenly I saw gold! Or brass as the case really was. "A steam engine! A steam engine! Oh, Ma, a steam engine!" Mother looked on approving of my glee. "Dad, you lied! There's no rubber in here!" "Here, said Dad...let me see it." He took it in hand and gently removed the filler cap. "Here," he said, "See this little rubber washer? It will keep steam in the boiler when the pressure builds up!"  The grin on Dad's face told how much he had enjoyed his charade. And the pout on my face? It vanished for months...well, at least for days...as long as a nine-year-old can keep from pouting.

Over the next several years I fired up the steam engine frequently, learning, incidentally, about the ferocity of live steam, and the burns it can inflict along the way. The old steamer is among the favorites of my Christmas memories. Do you have one of your own?

The Obligatory Family Photos, as in My Grandkids are Cuter and Smarter Than Your Grandkids...Probably the Best Grandkids Ever!

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This is What Happens When the Genomes Suffer a Collision of Sorts

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Apparently the Christmas Goat was wearing inflatable corduroys when this photo was taken. That seems the only reasonable explanation. Although  another possibility is that Mother Superior secretly photoshopped the images when no one was looking in an effort provide contrast with Her Svelteness. She's like that, as long time subscribers will recognize from ages past. ("So when did I subscribe to this form of abuse?" I hear you mutter. You didn't...you're locked in...I have your email address. You will have to create a new account to escape.

Of Matters Artistic

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Sue's opening at the Spirit Room on Broadway in  October was the first time in a zillion openings... over a half century's duration...that the Goat  witnessed Herself enjoing a gallery talk...could it be that someone else in the room was the object of derision? Or maybe when you turn 75 you don't really care what people think anymore, and that removes the burden of perfection....
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It doesn't hurt to have Kappa Delta sister support on location in case things go south!
​(Ginny, Judy, Suzie, Patty)

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A Mother Superior Painting was selected by Fargo Art Grand Poobahs to be among several installed as wraps along Broadway. She is so taken by all of this public approbation that she can be found downtown giving it an occasional dusting by day...
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...and fiercely defending it from all harm at night as the raucous partiers leave the downtown bars at closing time on Halloween.

Reflections on Christmas Past

Mother Superior initiated the annual Christmas Missive circa 1967, shortly after our return from a year in England. It soon became the anti-Christmas letter, filled with scurrilous fabrications about a certain lodger, and the Christmas Goat was hatched. The first two issues were in purple mimeo, (are you are old enough to remember that process), and continued until around 1978. That year she barricaded herself in a small closet with a large bag of vegetables and refused to come out, repeating "Never again, never again, never again! When promised that her burden would be forever lifted, she re-entered family life holding a sack of apple cores. Since then it has been left to the Goat, he of diminishing capacities too numerous to mention. Below is what Herself was thinking about in 1972, the year our family was complete, and Vietnam a fact of life.
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Surely this has gone on far too long, you say. Particularly for anyone trying to read it on a smart phone; or even a dumb phone for that matter. We wish you a Happy Christmas and Blessings in the New Year. Would that we could have the pleasure of your company in 2019. Stay well and God bless....

The Goat and Mother  Superior a.k.a. Suzie Baby
And if you want to see where those scribbles above have taken her, she also resides in 1s and 0s at
​susanmorrissey.com
10 Comments
Dennis Anundson
12/14/2018 09:30:53 am

Merry Christmas to the Morrissey family.

Reply
Richard Morrissey (the Cuz)
12/14/2018 10:41:07 am

To the Goat and Goatherd,

Blessings of the season to you and yours.

Reply
Marleen Pytlik
12/14/2018 10:59:00 am

Merry Christmas & the brightest and best of new years. I have been enjoying the Christmas Missal for years, no matter who wrote it. Love to you all!
Marleen

Reply
Tim Morrissey link
12/14/2018 11:26:33 am

With best wishes to the Morrissey Clan of Fargo from your distant cousin in far-flung Wisconsin.

Reply
Phil Roesch & Sonja Lee
12/14/2018 01:01:56 pm

A huge bucketful of Christmas Cheer to the Morrissey clan and their associated friends. God bless you all.

Reply
Bill Kairis
12/14/2018 02:13:27 pm

Once again, riddled with big words, punctuation perfect, grammatically superior and the content, well....absolutely perfect !!
The family looks GREAT, altho Mother SuPerior needs to trade in the " Old Goat for a younger model, even with all the new parts, he still looks "road hard and put up wet".
Marry Christmas to all.

Reply
Dan Rice
12/14/2018 08:35:40 pm

A fun read and some family history about which I knew not. Blessings to all of the Morrissey’s from Dan and Amy, St. Stephen’s friends.

Reply
Sister Leota Roesch
12/14/2018 10:32:52 pm

I see Phil had a comment! I enjoyed your digital missive as always, and remember fondly riding my bike from the convent in Moorhead to Fargo when Tim (?) was tiny!
Blessed Christmas! Letter coming.

Reply
Jim & Dianne Moss
12/17/2018 08:19:38 am

Always remember meeting you on the train headed to the Statendam to cross the Atlantic!! We were all on our way to fill our posts for the Fulbright Teacher Exchange Program. We also enjoyed our time together in DeKalb!! Wishing you health & happiness in 2019!! Keep those entertaining Christmas missives coming!!

Reply
Vernie Maier
12/18/2018 06:43:26 pm

So glad I am still on your "list". Your bleatings are the highlight of the season. Card coming.

Reply



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    Morrissey is a retired school superintendent who is now content to scribble, swim laps, make wine, and do genealogy. His wife calls it chasing dead people...he can almost keep up with them.

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