The Christmas Letter - 2024

“You’re going to use the same old Christmas letter template again, aren’t you?”

These are dangerous words when they come from your wife.

“What’s wrong with my Christmas letters?” I asked. I intended the sharpness of my voice to be felt. 

“Oh, nothing.”

“Well, do you want to write the dumb letter this year?”

“No! Look, it’s just…it’s fine. We don’t need to talk about it.”

Being married for fourteen years, I know two things: 1) It’s not fine. 2) I was about to change my Christmas letter style.

It’s not my fault Becca wants a different letter. It’s the fault of our friends. You see, each year, I imagine because we’re so popular, we receive a flurry of letters from families far and wide. The problem is these letters are entertaining. Too entertaining. These people out-write me—ME, the author of FIVE BOOKS, darn it!—as though I’m unworthy to unlatch the strap of their laptop case. They make me look bad; a real amateur hour. These friends. “Friends.” 

Jerks.

I joke. Sort of. Either way, this year I have to actually write a letter instead of following an easy template. I thought of using ChatGPT, but I don’t have a clue how it works, other than it summons demons. I thought maybe I could start the letter with a bunch of kid quotes. Those are always a hit! But we lost those during the chaos of our move this summer.

Sigh. I’m on my own…

Step one: split the letter into two columns. I’ve seen others do this before [print version]. Step two: crack open a beer. Step three: stop Jude and Benny from running around the house naked while shooting toy guns at deer. Step four: crack open a beer. Step five: just write the darn thing. 

* * *

It was a year. 

January began with a return to work from my parental leave (aka book-writing session while living in abject poverty, as writers do). It was cold and dark but not without its gleeful moments. For starters, we met prolific Catholic writer and online friend Dr. Peter Kwasniewski at a talk in Saskatoon. That was a treat. We also enjoyed skating at my parent’s acreage near Nipawin, eating Joseph’s hunting and trapping bounty (squirrels, rabbits, grouse… that kid provides for the family better than I do…I should write a book about it), and dreaming about what life would be like to live out in the country instead of in our town of Tisdale. Sort of like in a place where I grew up.

The year went on, the kids grew, and we all became restless. It’s not that our house was too small. Our yard was too small. There was not a flake of snow untouched. We knew we needed space. Acres and acres of space. Sort of like that place where I grew up. With trees and fields and a garden and…just like the old Nipawin acreage (where I grew up). But what can you do?

You know how you can search for something for years only to find it right in front of your face? Like Dorothy going to the Wizard of Oz only to learn that the path home was right at her ruby red feet? Oh to find what we were looking for (sort of like in a place where I grew up). Finally, it hit me…

 “Why don’t we just see if we can take over the family acreage?” I mentioned to Becca one day.

“That’s crazy! That’s literally crazy!”

Soon enough, I was applying for a job transfer to Nipawin. Yes, the plan was to take over the acreage. There’s no place like home. Click, click, click.

Multiple novenas were said to St. Joseph. It was in the bag! Then, on the glorious feast of this saint, March 19, I heard back from my school division about the transfer:

“No.”

Becca tried to console me. “I know it’s hard, and you must be really disappointed, but…”

“I didn’t even want that darn job!” I interrupted.

“Oh? Well, why didn’t you say that!”

Life went on. We weren’t moving. We had to somehow find contentment living in Tisdale (a nice place to be sure) while taking our yearly trip to the mountains for consolation. The kids, who out of boredom had counted every snowflake in our yard, now had to resort to naming each snowflake as well.

“Are you okay?” Becca asked.

“I’m fine. It’s just…I don’t want to talk about it.”

May 1st came (the feast of St. Joseph the Worker) and lo and behold a posting came up for the job I actually wanted. A grade five position, based out of Nipawin, with the Saskatchewan Distance Learning Centre, where I could teach homeschooled students.

Miracle of miracles: I got the job! And then…I don’t remember much afterward.

* * *

Life’s been a blur for us. The first order of business was to get a truck. You need a truck to live on an acreage, you know. With a pre-Covid budget in my brain, I soon realized I could only afford the worst truck on the lot (which is what they sold me). Then, my parents bought a house in Nipawin while we put our Tisdale house on the market. Within two days we had a sale. Imagine! We had to keep our house clean for two whole days! Meanwhile, my new truck broke down twice, and I was driving various rentals.

We almost made it to summertime in one piece (where the real work would begin). But as I taught my last afternoon class at Tisdale Elementary School, our two-year-old Ben was conveniently breaking his leg at a friend’s house. And thus began summer.

After postponing our annual mountain adventure, we helped move my parents out of the acreage (no small task). After painting much of their house, I resorted to renovating the living room and basement of our soon-to-be acreage home. With Joseph, John Paul, and my dad to help, we gutted the basement. Unfortunately, everything there was built to endure earthquakes, tidal waves, and government invasions. Which is to say, my dad did not cheap out on the flooring glue or anchor bolts when he first fixed up the basement years ago.

Meanwhile, on the home front, Becca took care of the younger kids, including Ben who had a green leg from his thighs to his toes (his cast). She did the majority of packing and, before we knew it (July 26th to be precise) it was our turn to move.

The move went very well. So too the setup. Within a few days, it felt like I never left the place (though walking into my parent’s old bedroom still feels strange). I also decided then to upgrade to a better truck. And Ben was scheduled to get his cast off too. Life was good! We decided that running away to the mountains for a week was in order.

Ben’s cast came off just before we left but, unfortunately, nobody told us it would take weeks for him to walk again. And then my newer truck’s air suspension acted up the day after I bought it. Also, we determined that the roof on the house needed replacing before winter. 

All in all, our trip to the mountains was marred by an angry two-year-old who was sick of sitting and not doing. When he wasn’t crying or throwing a tantrum, we enjoyed ourselves in Banff and Yoho (check out the trip at my YouTube channel: @DanielJMillette). Except for when camping neighbours threw parties deep into the night. Yelling at idiots to shut up at 1:00 am has become a specialty of mine. I hear this can be a useful skill if you have a houseful of teenagers.

Returning home at the end of August, Ben became mobile again. We were saddened by the loss of my Uncle Carl after a difficult battle with cancer. And I started my new job. Things just continued to happen. Our garden sucked. There was endless brush to clear, things to attend to, another major truck breakdown, and just an overwhelming sense of being overwhelmed. In an overwhelming manner. Yes, we were drowning in the overwhelming new life. You might say we were overwhelmed.

* * *

“It’s positive…I’m pregnant.”

When you are drowning, I hear being handed a new baby is a useful solution. Yes, #6 is scheduled for July, 2025. Which officially means we’ve outgrown our van. I can hardly wait to go purchase the worst 8-seater vehicle on the lot and relive my truck-buying experience.

With that, I sit here in early December, yet surprisingly I don’t feel overwhelmed anymore. Hunting season was a full 37-day adventure (Joseph = Happy. Me = Disappointed). Our bank account is wondering what we’ve been drinking, and Becca generally feels like garbage. But being outside constantly has us feeling revitalized. The rink is coming along. The hill is good for sledding. The freezer has a decent amount of deer meat in it. And the kids are healthy and happy.

It was a year. One to never forget. And deep down, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

* * * 

If writing an awesome letter wasn’t enough, our friends then give a rundown on everyone in their family, overachievers that they are. Sigh…

* * *

Ben (2): Benny the Jet is what we call him. Or usually just Jet (gotta keep all the boys with J names). He’s a hilarious, creative, smart, fun-loving, and tremendously talented young man. Just like his…

He likes to tag along with his siblings for any adventure they’re on. His favourite pastimes are eating, taking his shirt off, and replying to anything with his trademark comeback.

E.g. “Ben, you have a big fat bum!”

“No, YOU have a big fat bum!”

Or

“Ben, you have a poopy diaper.”

“No, YOU have a poopy diaper.”

Sassy. Just like his…

* * * 

Jude (5): Jude is usually high on life and often will get up at 5:30 am or earlier because he can’t wait to start the day. Jude can usually be found with Ben on some adventure around the house or yard such as trapping wolves or shooting moose (usually shirtless… the boys, that is, though I imagine the moose are shirtless too). Jude began kindergarten this year. His teacher’s a real cutie, and together they’re going through letters and numbers. Whether or not Jude retains anything this year remains to be seen. But he’ll be happy nonetheless.

* * * 

Emilie (8): Emilie is the perfect combination of sweet and sour. She’s our lovely little girl still, and helps her momma with cooking, canning, and cleaning. She’s also the back-to-back-to-back-to-back winner of the Most Fights Started award. She stirs the pot in more ways than one. She’s a keen student (her teacher tells me) and is the highest ranked grade three student in her entire school! (Our kids are homeschooled).

* * * 

John Paul (10): Grade 5 now. Got glasses in the spring. Creative, artistic, and a crazy-good storyteller, John Paul is a bundle of energy. He can climb the wall for hours. Sometimes this energy is channeled into physical labour (he excels at hard work). Sometimes the energy runs wild and our house becomes a hurricane of chaos. However, there is one way to make him instantly sleepy and half-dead… “Time for prayers, kids!”

* * * 

Joseph (13): Grade 8 (I think…). We have a teenager! Joseph spends most of the time in his room playing video games. He’s depressed, unenthusiastic, sleeps in, hates the outdoors…

Um, no. Joseph is our outdoorsman through and through. He loves fishing, hunting, trapping, and most recently supplied the family with a tasty young buck (NB: the big buck I wanted went into hiding for 2.5 weeks only to show up on our hill and gloat at me the day after hunting season ended). Joseph loves reading, working out early in the morning, bushcraft, survival, and is a big help around the house. We do wonder what he’s going to do when he’s older. Being a trapper is fine. It’s just, you know, you’d better have a high-paying job to support that sort of occupation. Joseph has several years to decide. Until then, we’ll continue to reap the rewards of his hunting.

* * *

Becca (old): Momma is a wonder to behold. She homeschools, changes diapers, keeps house, cans, cooks, cleans, gardens, all the while growing a new little one inside of her. While it’s true I have to be very complimentary of her (she did let me go hunting for nearly 37 days straight), she is still the one who keeps our kids healthy and happy; a real homemaker. Yes, Becca truly is amazing (did I mention she let me hunt for almost 37 days straight?).

* * * 

Dan (young at heart): We end with the old guy. I’m not as young as I used to be. Workouts are that much harder; staying awake past 8:30 pm near impossible. Sadly, I didn’t have enough time or energy to write a book this year. But I can’t complain (I did get to hunt for nearly 37 days straight, after all). It was an expensive year, and next year will be even more expensiver (I didn’t say I was an English teacher), but, as Bruce Coburn says, nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight. I think if I had to conclude the year with one line it would be Psalm 36:4, “Delight in the Lord and He will give thee the requests of thy heart.” If your heart is in the right place, that is. I think it has been this past year. Our hearts are full, and despite all my complaining, I really have nothing to complain about. We wish you all a blessed Christmas and joyous New Year!

* * * 

After all that, we did find a few of Benny-the-Jet quotes. Enjoy.

Ben (as a 1-year-old, popping off while nursing: “Mmm! Dat’s so good!”

* * *

Ben (2): “Mom, can you buy me a hatchet?”

Mom: “Sure, for Christmas…when you’re 9.”

Ben: “No, when I’m 2!”

* * *

Ben, burping: “My mouth farted!”

* * *

Ben eating his grandpa’s toast.

Joseph: “Ben, you’re a mooch.”

Ben: “No, I’m a pig!”

* * *

Ben, pointing to John Paul’s new glasses: “John Paul…you got windows?”

 

One last thing: Remember to check out my books at Amazon! (Author Daniel J. Millette). And leave a good review, please and thank you!