Christmastime 2022

Dear Festive Frolickers,

Yet another year has run its course, and we now find it time to bring our faithful readers up to date with all the happenings in the thriving necropolis of Bedrock. No doubt the biggest news to hit the community this year has been the announcement of the upcoming closing of the local hospital. Few things in living memory have stirred up quite the furor that this news has birthed — which, ironically, is one of the main contentions: The entire county will now be deprived of obstetric care. This alone has sent old Harold Simms into apoplexy as he anticipates the arrival of yet another great-grandchild early next year. Along with many others, Harold has expressed outrage at the news, and he fears that funeral homes will be next, which he expects will mean that he’ll have to go out of town to die.

It is really a great shame that news of the forthcoming closing was not announced sooner as it could have saved a great deal of time, money, and effort on the rebuilding of Momma Ritchie’s School for Wayward Girls. The soon-to-be-abandoned hospital would have made an excellent structure for housing the academy, especially considering how many of the students already were intimately familiar with the facility’s layout ... particularly the OB and rehab wings. Nevertheless, work on the new school is nearing completion after having received strong (some might say exuberant) support from many local men, and it is expected to reopen in January down by the railroad tracks just across from Tilly’s Tavern.

In addition to losing its hospital, Bedrock also lost its ballet school earlier this year. It is not known whether its willingness to produce a number of old John’s ballets played any part in its demise, but its closing is yet another blow to the cultural life of the community. Whether this will boost enrollment at Cloghaven College down in nearby Grapevine, it is felt that the closing deprives many young people of the opportunity to expand their artistic horizons beyond hog calling competition and pole dancing exhibitions over at Tilly’s.

The termination of both institutions has had a direct impact on the Craton household, but they seem to be plodding along as much as possible in their beatific ignorance. Dr. Wife actually fulfilled her threat of retiring from medical practice at the end of June, feeling that she’d done all she can to heal the halt and maim in the community. Unknowingly, her retirement came mere weeks before the announcement of the hospital’s closing, so she did at least dodge one bullet, only to be targeted by another. Though she speaks glowingly of how much she is enjoying retirement, it seems she had not adequately assessed what life would be like with old John on a 24/7 basis. Thus she has been on the lookout for a remote sinkhole in which to deposit the body should things come to that. Otherwise, she relishes her time with the cats and sipping tea while reading and writing. (Our readers might want to keep an eye out for a forthcoming book some day.)

The Craton offspring are all doing well, having escaped the Bedrock environs some time ago. Ben and Nyssa remain in Lafayette, Indiana; Jon and Annie are still in Snohomish, Washington (just outside of Seattle); and Stephen continues to enjoy the sedentary life in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, after several years of globetrotting.

The old folks don’t do a great deal of traveling these days ... ironic, since travels were limited because of work while younger, and now that there is ample free time they’re finding that their bodies do not seem to be as adventuresome as in days of yore. It would appear that their most exciting excursion of late was a brief trek through Peerless, Indiana, less because of what there is to see in Peerless — essentially a welcome sign that says the same thing on both sides — but because of the effort to get there. Not knowing the exact route to follow, the foolhardy couple asked directions of Siri and were informed that no such hamlet exists; and on the second attempt they were instructed to “make a U-turn and drive 1800 miles.” After finally discovering the burg on their own, they then asked for directions home but were told, “You have no home.” They became greatly concerned after this as they drove slowly past a cornfield where malevolent-looking children were observed weaving in and out of the cornrows, and now they’re contemplating selling movie rights of their adventure to Twilight Zone.

Having become more torpid in their caducity, they now derive elation from such things as having their broken front sidewalk repaired, which finally was achieved this fall. People now can visit them at home without the need for all kinds of special equipment to traverse the pathway to their door. It took more than three years to finally get the repairs accomplished, and old John had begun to theorize that the street department drug its feet while they contemplated the possibility of using the sidewalk as a means of revenue for the city. After Bedrock spent millions on a series of urban trails around town, John conjectured that they were pondering the feasibility of setting up a booth to sell tickets on his block for those who wanted to tackle Bedford’s own “Hike of Death” without having to travel to Machu Picchu to do so. But whether the long-needed repairs will increase traffic to the Craton doors remains to be seen since most people tend to avoid old John in the first place.

But while there is more than a mere element of truth to all that has been presented above, we are pleased to relate that as of this writing the Cratons all are doing well despite their 38 years in said abode — perhaps more battle-weary than they would like, but nonetheless well, considering their age. Dr. Wife has indeed taken up writing more — something she has longed to do for ages — and also seems to delight in being a dutiful Hausfrau. In addition she enjoys showing old John all the things he’s been doing wrong at home for the last 38 years (it’s a miracle the old boy is still breathing). John himself continues haranguing violin and piano students, though far fewer than in saner times, and actually does scribble a note or two now and then. He has always enjoyed making noise, so now he just looks for opportunities to be paid for it.

And they both wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year filled with all goodness and peace.

John Douglas & Debbie Craton

Visit us online at either of the following websites

www.craton.net www.craton.net/drdillo

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