December 1, 2021
The last month of 2021 has
arrived, and although this year hasn’t taken as large of a toll on me as 2020
did, I nevertheless won’t be sorry to see it go.
It snowed last Sunday
beginning in the morning, and while I was certain that the wet kaka would be
gone by the next day, it has remained. I had heard the dripping of melting snow
as I left the house Sunday afternoon to get the groceries, and the white stuff
was just so wet! However, it didn’t disappear over night, and I’ve the feeling
we’ll see a lot of it in the next few months.
According to the traditions of
this house, winter is defined as that season that stretches from October to
March, inclusive. So hooray, the second month of winter is now history. The
season is already one-third done!
The beginning of the last month
of the year is also the beginning of the Christmas season. We’re not partying
this year, but then, we never really do. There will possibly be two occasions over
the course of this month when we will be amongst our larger family. In both cases,
everyone has been vaccinated.
David and I have been careful,
ever since the pandemic struck. In the early days, before we knew more about
it, we were both, frankly, frightened. We’re older—David will be 70 next year.
We also both have risk factors. I am diabetic (type 2) and have heart disease;
David has COPD. It’s not at the stage where he needs oxygen, but he does have
an inhaler he must use once a day. He also has a rescue inhaler. As we have
paid attention and learned more about this novel coronavirus, our fear has
eased, but we’ve remained vigilant.
We both, right from the
beginning, figured this thing would be front and center for about three years,
at least, before it was completely under control. What we didn’t count on was that
so many people would play silly games, resulting in their refusal to take the
vaccine. We thought most people were intelligent enough, and generous enough,
to focus on the greater good first and get the shots.
I never could have imagined
that in this modern age and in the year 2021, that the inmates would truly take
over the asylum.
Sunday last was notable for
more than the snow that fell. On that day, our two “puppies”, Missy and
Bear-Bear, offspring of our beloved Mr. Tuffy, turned 2 years old. We didn’t
have a party and nearly missed the occasion altogether. They’re both a couple
of scoundrels if you ask me. They need a lot of attention and affection. They
love their routine and are happiest when their human mommy and daddy are close
by. But we love them, of course we do.
One day, when they were only
about six months old, David went upstairs, his goal to tidy up our storage
area. There were several empty boxes up there and he decided it was the day to
thin the collection out. He thought it would be funny to let those collapsed,
light-weight boxes slide down the stairs toward the waiting puppies. He thought
they’d think that was a great, fun game.
They did not.
Now, although it happened only
that one time (he swears), if he goes up those stairs in the morning when I am
behind my closed office doors trying to work? Yeah, I get Missy scratching like
crazy at one of those doors. Of course, I open it so she and her brother can
come in and seek refuge with the one person who has never tried to terrorize
them—me.
I will always stop writing so
that I can pick them up and calm their little-doggie nerves. But that doesn’t
mean I do so happily. It’s not their fault, after all, that they were frightened
by being pelted with cardboard bombs at an impressionable age.
And, if it happens twice in
one day, I become annoyed. Compromise, as you know, is key to any relationship.
David and I have a deal. Monday to Friday, I claim the time from when I get up
until noon hour as my exclusive working time. And it is work, and results in
some income that we both use. If David wants to trek upstairs to get tools to
do whatever or if he wants to do something totally outside of the norm, upsetting
little-doggie schedules and psyches, then he can do so after the stroke
of midday. By anyone’s standards, that is reasonable.
Trust me when I say that the
puppies are not the only creatures in this house who like to cling to their
routines.
The difference between me and our
small dogs in that regard, of course, is that I tend to get a whole lot crankier
than they do when my routine is interfered with.
And no, a belly rub and
scratch behind the ears just doesn’t cut it as an apology.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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