Desiderata - it is desired

 The Pacific Northwest just experienced what is a Category 5 River of Moisture.  Here, it included another windstorm.  Another one!  We were only about two minutes into it when our power went out at 6:30 a.m. last Wednesday. 

We are prepared for power outages now with a generator.  We got it running and soon we were back to having heat, TV and Internet.  Thousands were without power and once again, there were more trees lost in the storm.  Fortunately, we lost only a couple this time.  

Retired Mountain Man pointing out the root rot to me on this tree.

24 hours later our power was restored.  I know the line crews worked all night long and I thank them.  We managed, but really it's no fun to be without electricity. 

We're in a very strange pattern here in the northwest.  It's January 18th and at our elevation, which is about 2500 feet, we do not have snow.  Well, there's a bit here and there, but basically, we have no snow.  Last night it rained again. 

In a normal year, we would need our snow shoes to take this walk and this water would be frozen or buried by two-three feet of snow.

The UPS driver is very happy because she has no problem making it up our driveway.  I don't know why UPS doesn't have delivery trucks with four-wheel drive, but they don't.  They have to chain-up.  

 

My strawberry plants are handling the weather just fine. 

We now have our own Jon and Connie dolls thanks to a surprise gift from David and Julie.  I do love the red hat.  Jon has worn one forever, but now the problem seems to be that they no longer make them in a small size.  We had no luck finding one.  I tried, unsuccessfully, to shrink a medium size one. 

Two more days until we have a change in our government.  Americans have had to take a hard look at themselves these past few days.  Let's hope that we will decide that we really do want unity and do what is necessary to obtain that.  

I will report that Jon and I had few side effects from our vaccination, which was six days ago.   My arm was sore at the site of the injection for a couple of days.  Jon's was not.  That's it.  The injection itself did not even hurt.  

 My friend Marianne posted the poem, IF, by Rudyard Kipling the other day.  I remember bits of it from my high school days.  In our family though, the words from Desiderata are some of those to live by.  We have always had a print copy on our wall.  

Desiderata

GO PLACIDLY amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

By Max Ehrmann © 1927

Original text

There will be a memorial tomorrow evening for all of those who have lost their lives to Covid-19. 

 

I will be lighting our candle. 

Pray for peace and unity in our country.

It was like winning the lottery!

On Monday morning my friend, Susan Howard called me to us know that we could go online to schedule an appointment for the next day to get our Covid Vaccination.  She had emailed me the link to the online site.  There was only one day available and the location was the Panhandle Health District in Hayden.  

Needless to say - I was immediately ON IT!

It was tedious to sign up especially since they required a photo of the front and back of our insurance cards and that file had to be uploaded during registration. 

After some frustrating moments, it was done. 

Tada!  We had appointments at 12;55 p.m.  We could hardly believe our luck. 

As soon as I finished I was on the phone to let others who were over the age of 65 know that this opportunity was available.  Everyone that I could think of. 

There was some trepidation because the Idaho governor had just changed who was eligible to receive the vaccine to all those who were over the age of 65.  No one was certain that when we arrived in Hayden it was actually going to happen.

We didn't know what to expect and after going through the maze of trying to schedule the appointments, we wondered what kind of delays or problems we would run into at the clinic.

It was so fitting that the entire drive to Hayden was terrible.  It's January 12th and it was pouring rain with dense fog and poor visibility all the way.   Then again, it was better than snow packed roads and ice.  

We arrived ten minutes early.

As soon as we walked in the door there were four Idaho National Guard members at the entrance.  One had a clipboard and asked if we had an appointment.   Yes we did! After checking off our names on the list we were directed immediately into the vaccination room.  

There were three stations where they were giving the shots and our neighbors, Neil and Ann Wimberley had just received theirs so we were next.  

Piece of cake.  Didn't feel a thing. 

Jon didn't have time to take his hat off.  It was that quick.

Our next step was to get in the line to set up our appointments for the 2nd dose.  All the volunteers were very helpful.  The appointments were setup using our cell phones which took some time, but that was also a good thing, because we needed to wait there at least 15 minutes to be certain we didn't have an allergic reaction.

A very big thank you to all the volunteers and guard members who were there and the nurses giving the vaccine.  There were a lot of people to help. 

There are some other people we owe thanks to and not much is said about them on the news or in the headlines.  

The scientists and researchers. 

There are thousands of them all over the world.  The have worked tirelessly for at least ten months to make these vaccines.  Where would we be without them. 

Thanks also to all those who took part in the vaccine trials, some of which are still happening.

After we received our shots, Jon asked the nurse how many people would be vaccinated that day.  She replied that as of 1:00 p.m. they had given out 200 doses.

Yes, I know that's a small number considering how many people in the U.S. need it, but I'm sure the vaccine rollout is going to improve. 

Jon and I are on our way to our "get out of jail free card".

We will be out of Covid prison by the middle of March.

Freedom!

This Land Is Your Land...

...This land is my land 

I know that most of you know all of the lyrics to this song.

Yesterday, I wondered if the lyrics were really true. 

Integrity and Truth 

Words that kept coming back to me as Jon and I watched the horrible events unfold yesterday. 

Patriotism and American values.

I thought of all of the years that the Cougar Creek Band marched in the 4th of July parade in Clark Fork.   Every year for more than ten years, we decorated a float for the parade.  We tossed candy treats to the kids as we marched and the band played This Land Is Your Land.

The people marching in the parade and the people lined up to watch the parade - we were celebrating America.  What it means to be an American.  We love our country.

Our families were all involved in creating and decorating the float, including all of the kids and grandkids.  Some of them played instruments and marched in the parade.  All I can say is that I am horrified by what they watched on TV yesterday.  

 I hope that our leaders will finally have the courage to step up and do what is necessary to save our country.

Leadership is crucial for America in this moment.  

Leadership that contains the core values of honesty, truth, 

kindness, compassion, and most of all respect for all people

and a commitment to serve our country.

This performance of This Land Is Your Land by Pete Seger in front of the Lincoln Memorial seems fitting for today.

Out with the old and in with the new.

The time has come to move on.  

2020 is finally over and it seemed like it went out with a lot of whining and then a whimper.  It was quiet here except around midnight when the neighbors set off some fireworks.  I'm glad someone was celebrating.  

We had some snow fall before Christmas Eve, but since then it has warmed up and it's been raining ever since.  It is now a very wet, soupy, sloppy mess out there.  

The year was filled with too much sadness and grief, lies and hoaxes, craziness and loss of common sense.  Retired Mountain Man went through three major surgeries and cancer treatment, plus other hospital stays all the while trying to avoid catching the virus.  It was stressful. 

Americans didn't learn much after eight months of the pandemic since for the most part, we re-elected the same incompetent people to continue to govern us.  In my opinion they've done a lousy job.  2020 couldn't end soon enough.  

Good riddance, I say.

It may be 2021, and so far nothing seems to have changed yet, but I do believe that the tide is starting to turn and there is hope on the horizon with the vaccine.  Yes, there are problems with the rollout, but in seventeen days, in spite of all of the recounts, audits, lawsuits and political antics, we will have a new president and administration.  They will have a different approach to the handling of the virus and the vaccine rollout.  Almost anything would be an improvement.

There will be sunshine as in this photo from 2015. 

It's hard to grasp that every day more that 3,000 Americans are dying and whatever it is that our government is doing, the deaths are not waning or stopping.  As individuals we each have only our own power to make this change.  

Our president-elect, Joe Biden, announced a national memorial event on January 19th to honor and remember all of the Americans who have died of Covid-19.  It's something we need to do as a country.  It's time to acknowledge the losses so many are suffering.  The death count as of today is almost 350,000 and it will be so many more by the 19th.  Yes, it's more than a couple of weeks away, but make your plan.  How will you honor and remember them?

Light a candle in their memory

along with

A moment of silence.  

and listen

to some beautiful music to bring us together. 

There will be brighter days.  Let's make it happen. 

That night on the marge of Lake Lebarge...

Our Christmas Eve walk was an easy one this year.  No Yak-tracks or snowshoes were needed.  

The bright sunshine was a nice gift since we have had a lot of cloudy, gloomy days this December.  

Our house is surrounded by trees which means that we haven't been able to see Jupiter align with Saturn as it's too low in sky for us.    We can't see the moon rising at this time of the day from our house but we can as we walk past our neighbors place. 

Retired Mountain Man and I are ready to celebrate and enjoy Christmas and the upcoming new year.  There is hope on the horizon with the new vaccines for Covid-19 and we look forward to being able to enjoy family and friends up close.   

They say that by summer we should be nearing  the end of the six feet of social distancing and wearing facemasks.  I just want to be able to hug my children and grandchildren.  Bring it on. 

 One week to go and this year is in the rear view mirror.  Jon and I have agreed that we will do whatever is necessary to get through our long winter and to the other side of Covid-19.  

A bonfire will be needed to rid us of 2020 and celebrate 2021. We have always had a bonfire on New Year's Eve, but this year it will be even more significant. 

 Thinking about the fire reminded me of this poem.  It is one of my favorites.  Jon's father Jim, loved to recite it. 

Yes, it is a little twisted for Christmas Day, but hey, it's still 2020.  Everything is out of kilter.

The Cremation of Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

      By the men who moil for gold;

  The Arctic trails have their secret tales

      That would make your blood run cold;

  The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

      But the queerest they ever did see

  Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

      I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.

Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.

He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;

Though he'd often say in his homely way that 'he'd sooner live in hell'.

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.

Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.

If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;

It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,

And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,

He turned to me, and 'Cap,' says he, 'I'll cash in this trip, I guess;

And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request.'

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:

'It's the cursed cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.

Yet 'taint being dead - it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;

So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains.'

A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;

And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.

He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;

And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,

With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;

It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: 'You may tax your brawn and brains,

But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains.'

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.

In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.

In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,

Howled out their woes to the homeless snows -O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;

And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;

The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;

And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;

It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the 'Alice May.'

And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;

Then 'Here,' said I, with a sudden cry, 'is my cre-ma-tor-eum.'

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;

Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;

The flames just soared, and the furnace roared - such a blaze you seldom see;

And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;

And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.

It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;

And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;

But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;

I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: 'I'll just take a peep inside.

I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;

And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: 'Please close that door.

It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm -

Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm.'

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.