Less than 24 hours after my sally sunshine post, I got a pop quiz: Did I mean what I wrote? 

It’s one thing to talk about being grateful when I receive unexpected “presents.” 

It’s another thing  to open the COVID package, and spend almost six hours in the ER on a Saturday night/Sunday morning.

Whew . . . We had dodged that bullet for three years!

pop quizz

The Unexpected Present

Doug cratered on Saturday at dinner and our treating physician said he needed to be seen. 

Grateful we were for our daughter’s chauffeuring and companionship. 

In years past, I was OK with Doug’s ER visits; realizing I wasn’t fully OK with the drama  now was also an unexpected package. So was a nurse talking to your daughter instead of me! LOL

The sights and sounds of the ER were . . . unsettling also “packages’; especially two women, about my age and stage. 

Both ladies had fallen and hit their heads. 

One woman’s head had been wrapped in a gauze bandage, but evidence of a deep wound seeped through. Her son was there and very helpful. 

The other lady sustained some major facial wounds and lacerations— I’d never seen such injuries on anyone sitting in the waiting room. Her husband, also a seasoned citizen, attended her.  

But she was confused and a bit agitated, and bleeding. 

Her husband struggled to answer her frequent questions and comments— gently. It was hard to watch while pretending to ignore. 

We wish knew the rest of their stories—how they made out.

For all the managed chaos an ER can be on a weekend, those who took care of us were kind, competent and definitely stretched. Of course remembering pictures of ER’s in hot spots around the world brought me up short when the waiting wore a bit. 


I am so thankful for help we did get! (Internet MEME)

My Unexpected Present even at 5AM

Nobody got admitted!

There was help — kindness— care. Even if the “present” arrived on the anniversary of a very scary time: Like 9/11 January 6 Was. 

COVID quarantine was not a present we wanted — BUT, we have a comfy quarters, fresh water, heat, family and friends who feel our pain. Gratitude is as big and necessary a pill swallow when scary bugs bite! (Even if it chokes a bit) Neither of us have fallen . . . 

Quarantine time will be a good time to catch up on some reading . . . and painting.  It may feel like Deja Vu all over again— this time with a little hindsight. 

I am listening to Liz Chaney’s Oath and Honor. And I really miss David McCullough. But I am grateful for Wendell Berry’s book: Life is a Miracle: An Essay against Modern Superstition.  


Wendell Berry Is a national treasure


For something completely different, and because I love this shirt:  As Congress and State Legislatures reconvene, I read Chaplain Barry Black’s Closing Prayer after Momentous Session.  We Americans have been given a great gift, if we can keep it


Seriously. Thanks ME!




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