The second year of COVID begins

As much as I would like to do what my "familiar" Gizmo is doing in his box, I also recognize (as he does not) that those boxes just come and go. They are not a stable or reliable way to remain safe, and sheltering in an unstable, perishable bubble is not a great idea. He also jumped into my clothes dryer this morning -- another indicator of his less-than-stellar IQ.

I am eliglble for a vaccination next week, 2 days from now. But apparently there are not enough doses available, and so no new appointments are being accepted. I am checking the website daily. That is my ray of hope.

At least we now have a president and administration that is responsible enough to not only ask Americans to stand together to defeat the virus by wearing masks, social distancing and being sensibly careful, but to model the correct behavior. He has been criticized for taking off the mask while speaking from a podium, but you cannot see what is immediately around him, everything is sanitized before and after he is at the podium and this is not breaking with guidelines. He is hardly alone in this behavior. But whenever you see him around groups of people, both he and the people around him are wearing masks.

He even had the entire White House completely sanitized before he and the new first lady entered their new home for the next four year because his predecessor never bothered to be careful at all, and in fact held super-spreader events there throughout the Pandemic Period, until he left for the last time on Wednesday morning.

So not much new to report. Lost my brother, who was my only sibling and the last surviving member of our childhood family except for myself, of course. I am the last survivor of that immediate family. I am still processing that situation emotionally.

And no, he did not die of COVID, in case you were wondering, ever so politely and without asking it of me out loud. He died of head injuries sustained in an accidental fall from a two-story deck behind his home in Colorado. The injuries and swelling inside his brain did him in, and a second life-saving surgery to relieve pressure again as it was building, that was not possible because of his COPD. And so he left us after just a few days. I am glad he did not suffer for a long time, and I do have an empty spot inside my heart now. But life goes on, as I realized for the first time in April 1967 after my mother died of cancer.

That's it for today.

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