Tuesday December 10, 1991
Today is laundry day and I begin to write the Christmas cards. Frank begins to wrap gifts.
I'm having constipation problems and getting a great set of hemorrhoids. Otherwise, I continue to feel great.
Great, other than feeling very tired!
Mom spent days writing personal letters in each Christmas card she sent out, and there were always hundreds. She did not have a computer in 1991 nor a copy machine, so each letter was carefully written by hand individually. She did this faithfully every year. I guess that's why it is important to me to send Christmas cards every year, even though the number I receive has definitely dwindled over the past 10 years. It seems to be a lost tradition. However, I use a computer and type my letter, which is generic. Everyone gets the same letter.
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