February 14, 2021
|I am publishing my last Sunday’s essay, sent to my Outlook address book. For those of you who have followed my blog and have noticed the absence of WordPress, I tried for two months to reach WordPress to restore access to my three blog accounts. Finally I wrote a real letter with a stamp on it. I received an e-mail answer today that set me up again. So here is last Sunday’s essay. I’m sorry for those who may read my (almost) weekly posts and missed them. At this point, I wonder what to do with those essays I wrote during the time I couldn’t use WordPress. If you would like to see the missing essays, I can post them on this site, but if you don’t care, maybe it’s unimportant to do that. Trouble is, although I show over 300 followers, I only know of two or three who have commented or indicated that they actually read my essays. When I finally got back to this site, I saw I’d gotten five more followers. But there was only old stuff to read.|
If you want me to repost, just reply yes and tell me your on-line name. Please help me pick up the pieces of what I view as a disaster. PMA
Our Valentine’s gift is a pair of electric toothbrushes. We had a dandy set, but the brushes needed to be changed, so we bought replacement heads at Costco where we had bought the set of brushes. Didn’t fit, so we sent to Oral B for brush heads, but they didn’t fit. We returned everything to Costco. But I can’t find the carrying cases for the brushes. I’m sure I threw them away because we hardly ever go away overnight anymore. And we take an ordinary brush when we do. So now I will have to write a letter to Oral B explaining why we don’t have the cases and hope Costco will return the brushes to Oral B. I have no idea what else to do. Those brushes were probably gifts for Christmas or Easter. We have so much, we usually give useful gifts.
The best Christmas gift I ever had besides Jesus Christ was Eric, born December 23. But then, maybe it was our first grandson Jake Evans, born December 24, or my niece Christa born on Christmas day. Or other late December loved ones as well. So it’s not things but people that make the dearest gifts. When Becca Frame Brown brought 10 month old Blake to visit days ago, that was a gift. I hadn’t seen him since he was an infant. It’s the Covid-19, of course, that keeps us closed up from one another. It will be a gift when we can all get back together. To aid that, we have appointments for shot #2 next Thursday. I understand that we will still have to wear masks after we stay secluded more weeks, but won’t it be wonderful to all be vaccinated or at least part of the vaccinated herd?
The vaccine is another gift. I have read about the remarkably short period of time it took to make these vaccines. Really miraculous advances in medical knowledge have brought us this marvel. I have also been introduced to spooky information to scare people into not taking the shots. Why is it people want to feel they have exclusive and secret knowledge of conspiracies against all of us? The Covid-19 conspiracies I have happened upon or been steered to by others usually show a believable person telling why the drug companies have made up all of the danger and there really is no reason to protect one’s self against the virus. However, Gary and I believe in medical science as do most people.
Some cause harm to others in matters of belief. Some say children should not be inoculated. The herd of inoculated children protects theirs, but it’s still chancy. When measles broke out recently, the harm was to unprotected children whose parents may have listened to information based on an article written many years ago that suggested that shots could cause autism. The so-called science of the article has been thoroughly and often disproved, but there are still people who believe, contrary to results that show inoculated children to be statistically safer, that their child would be more likely to get autism.
Another of today’s gifts is a juicy storm that stayed all day yesterday and much of today. In Seattle they are snowed in. They hardly ever worry about rain, but to us such rain and snow are gold. I am wearing rings on both hands, gifts of monetary value, but the people who gave them, my husband and his mother, are the real gifts, gifts to the heart that can’t get lost or destroyed unless I lose my memory. My electronic card sender Blue Mountain limited my batch of cute porcupine valentines, so I sent what I could. Some answers have told me that people liked them, even such simple gifts for Valentine’s Day. Gary and I have Belgian chocolates to dispense carefully until they are gone. Why would we want jewelry, caviar or luxury tours? Love comes from the heart, is shown by personal attention and is without price. (I know this essay is sentimental, but if they are going to put Valentine’s day on Sunday, what else could you expect?) PMA