I feel like I am finally Home. The sky is blue, today, and I can hear the playful banter between the little girl down the hill and her big Sheriff’s Deputy Daddy, as he is splitting and stacking wood, in their yard. It’s kind of like hearing that little plane that used to fly over our house in Lafayette, the first time after 9/11, when he could take to the air, again, with his under-wing lights; it feels Normal.
I have to admit to clenching my jaw, when sleeping and awake, lately, and it is so very distracting, but today I finally sent out a newsletter, letting people know how wonderful Sawk, the new Sock+ yarn is. I have had friends test it for me, since my arthritic thumbs would not take kindly to me gripping the heck out of teensy sock needles. It has been declared to be marvelous for those handknit foot coverings and I am looking forward to putting it though the paces of Other Stuff. You see, it really is all about that twist, right there AND how spectacularly this yarn takes color.
This really has been a difficult few weeks, with choking smoke, fear of losing the house, imposing on our kids, cancelling Rhinebeck and then the heart attack and subsequent surgery needed by our son-in-law, who was not feeling at all well, all of the time that we fell in the door on them. He is home, thankfully, and beginning his recovery but I have to tell you that the doctors rattling around in a particular health insurance company failed him in every way, until he had to be transported, by ambulance, to the ER (twice before as a walk-in). His GP found that his first EKG, a month ago, was abnormal but probably because he is such an outwardly fit specimen, this doctor poopoo’d the test and sent him home. This happened over and over, with doctors opining that it must be gas, or indigestion, or an ulcer but never that his abnormal EKG and chest pain meant that he was on the edge of dying. When he DID get to the hospital, he had to sit in a chair, in the lobby, because there are NO BEDS. The Folsom hospital was full of Covid patients. It took a transfer to get him the emergency surgery that he needed to repair his circulatory system. You see, this is happening EVERYWHERE, touching families whose loved ones have done all of the right things with vaccinations and masks, only to have no room at the inn, when an emergency happens. We are counting our blessings that he is home with his family, resting and recuperating, no thanks to the overworked and uninterested doctors that preceded the amazing staff that finally saved him.
It really is the little things and the big things, these days. I am grateful for today’s blue sky and the silly way that our Lab acts when his Barkbox arrives with a new toy. I am grateful for the way that my cats, who are so happy to be home, yell at me, in the morning, for their daily brushing session. It means that things are ok.
Thanks to those of you who responded to my newsletter, today. You bolstered my feeling of hope. Now, we just need some rain. I just bet that those of you who live where there is too much of it are probably ready to help me encourage the president to use some of that War Money to build some sort of water moving infrastructure so that you quit drowning and we can quit burning. It seems like something that we could do, much like the highway system or yore. Think about it, will you?
Count your blessings and take care of one another.