Can anyone tell me what has happened to civil discourse? To being polite? Last week, I spent much of two days watching the confirmation hearings for, possibly, our new Supreme Court Justice. (I know. I know. I promised no politics, but I think this is not politics. I think this is the disintegration of politeness in human interactions – the situation of one person being inconsiderate toward another.)
What is it that gives you pause to cry? Is it ducks on a pond? Is it birds in the blue sky? Cute kittens? What is it?
Lying awake, listening to the radio that I use as “white noise” the other night (that obviously wasn’t working, that night), I began thinking about the act of crying and why it occurs. For me. I know that some of my crying occurs when I am so frustrated with a situation that I think I cannot change what is happening. I cannot make some move to send a happening onto a different track. NOTHING I can do will help. Then I cry.
And, then, there are other times.
This article will be published the day before St. Patrick’s Day, 2022, my favorite non-religious holiday – my absolute favorite. Time was, I made sure that on St. Pat’s Day, I always wore something of green. Children love to catch someone without green – pinching becomes the art of the day, and school kids are no exception. Today, I sometimes forget that it is the 17th of March.
Before we begin: Tallying snowfall in the metropolitan area is anybody’s guess. Sometimes, it’s measured at the airport, and that is usually less than what falls on my yard. Sometimes, the report is from the Foothills. Sometimes, that is more than falls on my yard. My measurement for the past month (February and part of March 2022) falls between 20 and 24 inches. Fortunate for us, it melts somewhat quickly – just not in my front yard. It snowed, again, this past week; after we’d cleaned the snow from the storm in the preceding week’s storm.
This past weekend (Friday, Saturday, and Sunday) was a really wonderful weekend for lots of folks. And, a lot of hard work. Not so much, hard work for me, but hard work for many. This was the weekend of the show and sale of the Denver Gem and Mineral Guild (DGMG) at the Jefferson County Fair Grounds. The first show and sale since the beginning of the pandemic.
Never, never, let a machine know that you are in a hurry or on a deadline. Earlier this afternoon, as I was starting this week’s blog, my computer screen didn’t look right. In fact, it looked really wrong! So, of course, I called my computer savior, Roger, who kindly took things in hand, fixed everything, and got me back into work mode. Thank you, Roger. I had a few ideas about what this week’s subject would be, knowing that I had several in mind, none of which was worth an entire blog. I decided to write about just a few of them; a little piece at a time.
Thinking Out Loud
I recently told you what a terrific neighborhood I live in. I began thinking about other things in my life that make my life better. There are a lot of them, so I’ll try to keep it to some basics like inventions.
An invention is something that no one thought about before and now it exists. Like shoe strings. Or equal to that – aglets. That’s a tag or metal sheath on the end of a lace, a cord, or ribbon to facilitate its passing through an eyelet. (Definition: American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 1982 edition) Thus, on to more inventions.
I had something else planned for today’s blog, but changed my mind. This early morning, I was sitting on my bed surrounded by three – THREE -CPAP machines. To understand what happened, you may need some “back story.” So, here it is.
By now, you know that I have macular degeneration. I also have AFIB. I use a CPAP machine. And, after my fourth (and, I’ve decided, my last) sleep study, my doc ordered an oxygen concentrator for me to use at night; an oxygen concentrator to use with the CPAP machine, as well as a new CPAP machine.
I live in the best neighborhood in the world. I know you hear that a lot from me, but I honestly think I do. Have you thought about your neighborhood, lately? What do people do for each other? What happens when there is an emergency? My neighborhood has a couple who are now recovering from a COVID spell. Fortunately, their confinement has not been too difficult. Next door neighbors brought groceries, snowplowed the sidewalk after a snow; in general, were long distance caregivers. Because I’m eighty -three now, my job was to stay away, when I got home from Wisconsin – even though I did offer assistance that I would be able to provide long distance.
Open Letter to Xcel Energy
This is a letter (which I will actually send to the home office of my energy company, Xcel). Every month, I receive this letter (see the picture) which costs them money, that I have to actually pay for because I know they use money that I pay for my bill to create this thing. A human person must calculate the information, format the letter, have it printed, get it into the envelope on which postage must be affixed (according to the envelope, “PRESORTED STANDARD U.S. POSTAGE PAID HEDERMAN DIRECT [whatever that means]).” And, the postman must deliver it. This is all costs money to accomplish; I wonder what it all costs to send out thousands and thousands of these letters! So, here is my letter to Frenzel, president and CEO of Xcel energy.