Who can you live without?

Think about which of your loved ones you can do without before you deny the reality of a deadly virus and flaunt your selfish freedom.

Think about who will miss you when you’re dead and gone.

Reading on camera

One of my favorite places is a pleasant bike ride* from home. It’s a place called Inkberry Books, a little shop in Niwot, Colorado, that supports local authors and other independent writers and artists.

You can’t go there right now, but you and other readers can support this indie book seller by ordering online. Some authors even read excerpts for you to help you choose!

The proprietors were kind enough to invite me to do that, so I decided to give it a try.

An excerpt from Blood Solutions: A Detective Red Shaw Novel

Here’s a link to The Inkwell at Inkberry Books, where you’ll find more authors reading more excerpts.

Read on, my friends.

B.J.


* Speaking of bike rides, I took what I believe if is my first ever selfie the other day.

First ride with a “mask” in the days of coronavirus. A friend pointed out later that I had the mirror on the wrong side. Good eye! I left it alone.

Waiting for Susan

It used to be – back in the day, maybe last month – that Mrs. Smith always got home from work before I did. Now that I work in the basement of our Longmont dwelling rather than a basement office in Boulder, Red Dog and I wait for her return instead.

Red often waits just inside our front door, right by the little stool where Susan puts her bathrobe and a towel each morning on her way out. So far I haven’t curled up by the door with him.

When my wife gets home, she says a quick hello and sheds the clothes that will go straight to the washing machine. Then she steps into the shower in the bathroom just a few feet away from the front door. She is following the advice of her employer. The idea is to reduce the chances of sharing a virus that she may or may not have been exposed to while helping mostly elderly people rehab from hip replacement surgeries, strokes, and various other conditions.

So far she has not had to venture into the isolation area of the care center, where people who have been released from a hospital spend a week or so proving they are asymptomatic. I hope she can avoid that area, but if she is needed she will go there.

She is remarkably cheerful most of the time and brushes the fatigue away like a pesky gnat that comes around now and then. Somehow she has the energy to work out or do yoga upstairs, take Red Dog for long walks, and bicycle with me.

Susan is one tough cookie.

The issue is survival, not winning or losing

The words “win” and “winning” are losing their meaning through overuse and misuse.

So is the notion of war. The idea that nations are fighting a war against a virus and can actually win is preposterous.

A well-prepared nation can limit the death and social and economic havoc that result from a pandemic. That is not winning. A nation certainly does not win anything by being so unprepared that thousands of people die before civic leaders accept their responsibilities and act. That is called failure.

The issue is survival, not winning or losing.

This nation and other nations can survive or not. Individuals will survive or not.

We can do either with honor and dignity. Our choice.

Image by jhenning from Pixabay

On being gregarious when things are precarious

I used to think that I wasn't gregarious
but now that everything seems so precarious
and sometimes even just downright nefarious,
and everyday pleasures grow mostly vicarious,
I see my old thinking as almost hilarious.

Stay well, my friends, and keep your distance.

B.J.