Yesterday, I saw Virgil. They have stocked up on playing cards while I was unable to visit, and now have at least two bridge (regular) decks, now totally new but in good condition. We both got some very hgood hands and also some disaster hands. I didn’t even try to put the wheelchair back in the car “forwards,” but I had no difficulty getting it in “backwards.” I did lose a little time coming home getting lost – but I’m pretty sure i know where I made the first wrong turn, so I should loseless time in future. Getting on the Interstate at the same exit I get off it when i go see him is IMO riaky, as the access lane getting on becomes the exit lane for the next off ramp too quickly. I was using it anyway before the hiatus, but i am enough less confident now to want to go 4 exits up and have a nice long access lane that no one has any reason to try to get off in. In other news, my “TomCat iris has bloomed this year, after i took the trouble to scrape enough obstruction away from the soil so that the sun could actually hit the rhizome. Only one stem, but three blossoms fully open and another once coming. I always though its coloration was that of a chocolate point Siamese, but this year and at very close quarters, it looks more like abluepoint when im the shade and a flamepoint when in direct sunlight. Who knew?
Not a news piece but an opinion piece, on something we have probably all thought about.
And this, as should be expected from Heather Cox Richardson, is not news, but history. And it’s history that many of us lived through. History one lives through, however, is often mingled in our minds with other events, both public and personal. This connects the dots.
