2025 Layne Family Christmas Letter

Some say winter is a depressing time of year. Sure, it gets dark around noon, golf becomes impractical, and it’s more uncomfortable to go barefoot outdoors. But as we sit and gaze beyond the leafless branches of our maple tree at the setting sun highlighting peach-hued chemtrails crisscrossing a pale turquoise sky, and one cannot escape the truth that, not unlike the warthog or naked mole-rat, even winter is possessed of its own unique beauty. If you like that sort of thing.

This year began as many do with travel when Karen, Ally, and Mark ventured to the nether regions of the Sunshine State to visit North America's largest subtropical wilderness and one of the world's most diverse ecosystems. By any other name a swamp, the Everglades is a vast "river of grass" famous for its unique mix of fresh & saltwater habitats where alligators & crocodiles coexist along with innumerable orders of aquatic plants and every form of deadly vermin.

Having had their fill of the peaceful serenity of the idyllic backcountry, the three booked seats on a deafening, death-defying air boat tour through the mangrove forests and sawgrass prairies where they mowed down countless endangered and/or protected species which, according to their toothless, redneck guide, would have killed and eaten every person onboard had they been traveling any slower than Mach 3. 

From there, the trio headed north to meet up with Amanda and Todd at the Tragic Kingdom for a few days of wallet-draining overstimulation and MK Ultra-esque indoctrination courtesy of the Disney “imagineers.”

Speaking of swamps, Mark has been enjoying his new role in the environmental field where he pivoted from foresting the world with galvanized steel monopoles to acquiring land for ecological restoration. When not traveling around the Midwest convincing farmers to convert highly productive farmland into swamps, he continues to dedicate his life to domestic servitude, doing all the shopping, yardwork, household repairs, and most of the cooking and income production so his fellow cohabitants have more time to watch TV.

In February, Chicago Bears matriarch Virginia McCasky gave up trying to convince her idiot sons to stop posing as NFL executives and transitioned to join her father, George, in his efforts to redirect the fortunes of their beloved team from beyond the veil. So far, so good it seems as the Bears have ceased to suck and are no longer the laughingstock of the NFC North.

In May, after what seemed like only eleven years, Ally crossed the stage of Carver-Hawkeye Arena clenching a BS in Exercise Science in her fist – a choice borne of necessity and aimed to gain leverage in her quest to help get Karen fit. Only time will tell if the small fortune invested in her education will benefit her mother’s wellness.

Speaking of school, Amanda and Ally engaged in a game of higher education switch-a-roo in which Amanda, having left Morraine Valley CC last year to accept a new role at Elmhurst University, reversed course and returned to Morraine, subsequent to which Ally applied to the Master of Nursing program at Elmhurst. It appears the space-time continuum would have been thrown out of balance had the two Layne women attempted to occupy the same learning space simultaneously.

This fall, Mark dedicated his free time to the trending sport of girls’ high school flag football. Taking a page from the Chad Powers playbook, he was kicked off the team when they discovered he was a 64-year-old male but was allowed to move into the role of a referee if he agreed to wear an ankle monitor.

In October, K & M traveled to Napa, CA – home of 10,000 wineries. As it turns out, neither of them has the slightest interest in wine, so they took day trips whilst there, one to Yosemite to search for Sam, and one to visit Karen’s cousin Johnny and family in Larkspur.  

Just as all good things must end so it seems must all bad things. In late autumn, Karen was forced to leave her minimum wage job at the Peter Troost monument company owing to industrial hygiene concerns among other things. Mark and Ally are adjusting to the dramatic reduction in the volume of complaints regarding her narcissistic, controlling office mate. Karen has since used her unencumbered time to help Ally catch up on several seasons of Chicago PD and to walk around with Sparky attached to her chest like a lamprey eel.

Speaking of the hounds, not much is new. We have observed Sparky evolve into a closed loop, self-sustaining organism able to maintain his existence by consuming his own waste. Maggie continues to tolerate him, although her patience is clearly wearing thin. In other dog news, against all advice to the contrary, Amanda and Todd decided to get an actual living, breathing, non-robotic lab puppy. What could go wrong?

As we brace for the “first contact” event predicted for the coming spring equinox, we are reminded of the words of Beat Generation icon William S. Burroughs who said, “After one look at this planet, any visitor from outer space would say, ‘I want to see the manager.’”

Beam us up, Scotty.

Merry Christmas to All, and to All Good Grief,

Karen, Mark, Amanda, Ally, Maggie, and Sparky