Thirty-two weeks, and the livin' ain't easy? I don't think that's the case. We're at least getting by when it comes to some things, while others are easy. All I have to do is set my standards appropriately, and what comes after it what it is.
My mom went from being one of three covid-positive residents at her facility to being one of 14. I told her I was sorry that she got demoted. One of three is clearly superior to being one of 14. She took the news well. I looped her Primary Care Physician in yesterday. He called her and they discussed options should she develop symptoms. I'm still comfortable with the care she's getting. They're doing another round of testing on Wednesday. If she then tests negative, the first result may have been a false positive. It could also be that the second result is a false negative. Either way, I expect they'll keep her in strict quarantine for the full 14 days from the first test.
I have to make another correction to something I said recently. I believe I said that the upcoming election would be the first one I'd missed since I started being an official in 2004. Nope! I skipped the June 2020 primary election for the same reason I'm sitting this one out, to protect against possible exposure to the novel coronavirus.
I mentioned yesterday having photos for the post. I've started carrying my iPhone to listen to music. That also gives me a handy camera should I see something meriting more attention, things such as this
on the end of a branch on a small pine tree. If I look at it right, it turns into a strange creature possibly up to no good. Yesterday was foggy but strangely. Normally, it's foggiest in the low part of my walk where I go down one hill and up another. I took the shot below after coming out of that swale. There was more visibility lower down.
The fog is nice when walking in this direction. Otherwise the sun can be quite bright in my eyes. Before my previous eye doctor retired, she told me that my light-colored retinas likely mean cataract surgery earlier than normal, with one way to delay it being wearing sunglasses or a hat with a visor to keep the sun out of my eyes.
A few posts ago, I commented about never taking the annual first-day-of-school photos and other such traditional favorites. There is one shot I really wish I had started and continued taking.
This shot doesn't really show the base of the tree in the center, but it's growing out of what was once a pile of manure. The developer of our subdivision dumped it there in the spring of 1987, when I was pregnant with Son #1. I did not really have morning sickness as much as I had early evening sickness, but those aside, stepping out onto our porch and smelling the manure made me want to hurl. The developer never used the manure for anything, and eventually plants started growing out of it. The trunk of the tree is a fairly impressive size. I should try to remember to get a shot in December or January when the vegetation about it is gone. I wish that each year on Son #1's birthday, I'd taken a photo showing his growth and the tree's, side by side.
I shall shortly go upstairs to inquire of The Professor just when he would like to dine this evening and whether he might be interested in watching Lesley Stahl's interview with The Orange Foolius on 60 Minutes. He probably will not, but I'm not going to assume that without asking. He'll probably prefer an old episode of Law and Order, but we'll see.
Uncle Joe is apparently hitting at The Foolius's handling of the pandemic in his stump speeches. I find it hard to understand how people can let him just dismiss it. Science may never recover if it has to fight The Foolius and friends for four more years. The Foolius keeps saying, incorrectly so far, that the virus in going away, will miraculously disappear, and so on. He at least acknowledges that it is real. I cannot understand the virus deniers who refuse to recognize its existence, nor can I understand the conspiracy theorists who see it as having been intentionally created and launched. If you know even a bit about science and/or medicine and a bit about history, you should have known another pandemic would eventually occur. You might have not predicted this one specifically, but you had to know one was coming. And, yes, there will be another one after this one, but hopefully not for another century or longer.
Tomorrow we start into the final week of the campaign. Fingers crossed that there are no final October surprises.
1 comment:
My son was complaining that life was predictable and boring and, just now, I'll take that. I keep telling him that even in these strange times life is what you make it. Today I am expecting a delivery of canning jars (I think we'd say "bottling jars" but as I don't know anyone who does it I don't know) and next week my pressure canner should land. I am determined that I will have something else to remember 2020 by.
I hope your mum sails straight through this. Whether hers is a false test or not the safest place for her just now is in her room.
I don't like walking in mud and the local trails are big on mud at the moment. I could walk through the streets but it just doesn't do it for me. I usually do my winter walking in a park but this year I'd rather have somewhere remote and unpeopled.
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