Thousands of people across this nation manned the polls during the November 2020 election. We did it despite not knowing the Covid-19 status of the people voting and the other volunteers who were working with us. We did it so our fellow citizens could exercise their right to vote. I resent the accusations of fraud and irregularities being carelessly thrown around. It isn’t so.
And as for dead people voting, my polling place is near a cemetery, not one of those people crawled out of their graves to vote. Not one floated through the open door and windows. Not one.
We had a good election and a fair election. Stop saying otherwise.
“The new normal”–I hate that phrase.
The safety measures we are using during the covid-19 pandemic is not the new normal. It is what we do until treatments are found and vaccines are developed to fight against this disease.
The phase we are in is a transition to a new normal. What that normal has not been agreed on by us.
Do we have the grit to get through this transition time?
The time will come again when we can shake hands, hug, meet our loved ones, our neighbors, our friends.
Can we stay the course?
See you along the way.
6 feet apart.
6 feet apart is the distance that gives our doctors and scientists the time and space to find treatments and vaccines that work against cover-19.
6 feet apart is the distance that we show respect, concern and love for the people who live in this world with us.
6 feet apart may keep you and your loved ones safe.
6 feet apart will not last forever, unless you are 6 feet under.
Stay safe, stay 6 feet apart…and wear a mask which covers your mouth and nose.
See you along the way.
How did those ancestors who crossed oceans on sailing ships, crossed mountains on foot, walked through the prairies deal with this isolation and sameness? We have phones, TV, movies, books, the web to distract.
We don’t have to forage for food–grocery stores get restocked, people give to their local food pantries for those in need.
What is it about this sameness that we find unbearable?
Is it because we have to think?
Is it because we have to reconsider how we live this life?
Is it because we have to admit how deeply we are connected to everything in this world?
Is it because we might have to change and we don’t want to.
Stay safe and healthy. Cover-19 is giving us a space and time to think about our futures. See you along the way.
I opened the last jar of my homemade strawberry jam. The aromas overwhelmed my senses. Remembrances of biting into a sun-warmed berry, its juice dribbling down my chin led to other memories: the freedom of summer clothes, the long days, the nights filled with stars, laughter of children, eating s’mores made by our young folks–a summer rite of passage, the gathering of friends, the talks which lasted forever but ended too soon, travels through the United States–the summer of 2019 was enjoyable.
We have plans for the summer of 2020 and the memories we will make–stay well.
The past few days were beautiful: snow, blue skies, the scent of spring coming on a southern breeze. But this morning, the skies are gray and it is snowing.
If you can forget the cold, and that within minutes your face can freeze, hands covered with mittens and stuffed deep within coat pockets, toes that seem to take forever to thaw once you can pull them out of your boots.
Then you look up, mesmerized by the snow falling in slow motion. You look around as the snow layers on branches and roofs. You smile. There is charm in being in your personal snow globe.
I guess this is my version of yelling at people to get off my lawn, which I can’t do anyways because the only trespassers on my lawn are sandhill cranes, raccoons, skunks, and other creatures passing through at night.
I don’t like clothes shopping, I only do it as needed. This week I needed blue jeans. Couldn’t find what I wanted. Seems as if women’s jeans are spandex with pretensions of being denim blue jeans–the type you have to peel off after working.What I want are jeans that are meant for work, denim ones. Off I went to the men’s section to see what I could find..
Most of those jeans are made of denim. I tugged on the jeans I was considering, they had the normal give of denim…except one pair–a hint of spandex has invaded men’s jeans too.
Well, still needed a pair of jeans. I bought the spandex type jean, but am still hoping to find a pair with just the right amount of denim.
We are a month into official spring, the weather should act like it.
My crocuses have come and gone, the daffodils are blooming, scent of hyacinths lingers everywhere and the leaves of plants which bloom in late spring have pushed through the soil.
But here we are, back in a snow globe world.
Can’t do anything about it, might as well enjoy it.
Profound thoughts come easily while sitting on a beach, I had a number of them, wrote them down, since then I lost them–I need to do a better job of keeping track of those profound wisdoms.
What I do remember are thoughts on language. Mostly I wondered if the people who were letting those words fall out of their mouths ever had a six second delay.
Like “stay in your lane.” How could that phrase come out of any American’s mouth? Isn’t one of our ideals: “all men are created equal?” When did we abandon that ideal? I know that there are people smarter than me, have more money than me, more influence than me, better looking than me…but better than me?
Our ancestors voted with their feet to leave that class ridden reality behind in them in whatever country they came from.
The other phrase that is “America’s original sin.” Did anyone think about the implications of that phrase?
Routine got me through the writing of a number of books, a few scripts. Out of bed, workout at the gym, breakfast, then writing. But winter interrupts that routine. It is a time to get taxes ready, visit family, get supplies in advance of the next storm, shovel snow, visit the sun in parts south of us, drink another cup of coffee as the wind pushed snow in scenes reminiscent of Dr. Zhivago, but not getting out of bed early. It is too damn cold to get out of bed to go to the gym. The whole routine is upset, and it is damn hard to get back into it. But that is what adulting is all about–taking a deep breath and muddling through.