Category: Pandemic

9 December 2020

Sorry for not posting the past week. I get busy with other things. Monday I had my six month eye check up. My cataracts continue to progress but not to the point I need surgery. Otherwise, my eyes are in pretty good shape. I’ve not needed a prescription change for glasses for the last four visits. I end up going every six months because I am now classified as diabetic.

Since I was out and about on Monday, I took the opportunity to send off my holiday cards. I also needed to post a package to a friend in San Francisco. The line at the post office (with six feet of social distancing) was out to the door. There was one postal clerk operating a window and one person who was answering questions. As I got closer, I overheard the postal clerk tell one of the customers that they only operated one window because there was a severe shortage of personnel. When she went to lunch, she had to close the post office down. I suspect Covid as the reason.

Of course, I walked into the post office without a pen or pencil. I finally found the right size box for my item and had to also purchase some bubble wrap. I also walked away from the house without postal tape to seal the box, so I purchased another roll. I think I now have about four of those in the utility room.

Fortunately, someone was in need of tape (they had only Scotch taped their package) and I was happy to give them as much tape as they needed for their package. Amazingly, the postal clerk only answering questions looked me dead in the eye and said “thank you.” Turn about is fair play because someone loaned me a pen so I could address the box. The postal service quit years ago putting out pens for the public.

Continuing my Monday journey, I stopped in at Publix and bought a few more items I would need in the coming week. It was only after I got home and the groceries sorted and put away did I think that I never bought the items necessary for fruit cake. For the past several years I’ve given miniature fruit cakes out at holiday parties made from the King Arthur Flour recipe. It’s a pretty good recipe and everyone seems to actually like it. It’s one of the few fruit cakes I truly like. The only other one I liked was Mother’s “blonde” fruit cake.

On Tuesday, I checked my stocks and found I needed about five or six items. I sat down at the computer and ordered them to be delivered from Publix. I was a little hesitant since whoever shops that day may or may not try to find the ingredients and some were a little peculiar – like dry candied pineapple and dried cherries. Amazingly, they found everything on my list and delivered it by 4:30 that afternoon.

I chopped all the dried and candied fruit required and set them to soak overnight in rum. Maybe that’s why I like this fruit cake. I started baking Wednesday morning. I toasted the walnuts, mixed the batter and promptly forgot to add the walnuts to the batter. Never mind – I just sprinkled them on top of the batter in the mini-tins. I had enough batter to make a larger bread pan of cake – just to sample, of course. They turned out fairly well.

Once you brush the tops with more rum (Myers Dark Rum in my case) they are good, unrefrigerated, for 6-8 weeks. Believe it or not, there are several friends that ask for a small stash of them and they’ll eat sections over the next couple of months. Why I have this thing for fruit cakes, I’ll never know. I always hated the ones gifted to us as kids. Only Mother’s blonde fruit cake tasted good to me. Unfortunately, I don’t have that recipe.

The Sun-Sentinel, the Fort Lauderdale newspaper, published an exposé on the governor’s office and what they had done to mislead the state on Covid. They had front page stories for two days in a row. Then state agents with drawn guns raided the home of the woman who was in charge of the state Covid dashboard before she was fired after filing a whistle blower complaint. She has accused the state of wanting her to alter the data on Covid statistics for the state to make it look better than it was. She could face up to five years in prison is found guilty of hacking the state’s database on Covid. DeSantis, of course, is a Trump supporter and has followed his line on the virus.

Of all the things that Donald Trump has done in his four years, the worst has to be the distrust he instilled in people for science. I suspect there are large numbers of people that no longer believe the CDC in Atlanta nor any of the information coming out about the vaccines can be trusted.

I’m not even sure I trust everything about the vaccines. Both Moderna and Pfizer’s vaccines are referred to as m-RNA vaccines. No m-RNA vaccine has previously been attempted in humans. It has succeeded in animal models but not in humans.

Messenger RNA (m-RNA) is a single stranded molecule that in humans, is produced in the nucleus of a cell to read a segment of a DNA molecule. That m-RNA then exits the nucleus to the cytoplasm where it joins with a structure called a ribosome to form a polypeptide which can fold and form a protein or a part of a protein. That protein then can be sent to the cell membrane and “presented” as an antigen on the surface of a cell.

Antigens are not foreign agents in the blood, contrary to what many high school science teachers preach. An antigen is simply any substance that reacts with an antibody – part of the body’s immune response.

The hope is that the when a pre-made m-RNA molecule is injected into a human, it will be absorbed by the cell and will make a Covid protein antigen and place it on the surface of the human cell membrane. It’s then hoped that T-cells circulating in the blood will use their antibodies to lock onto the pre-made Covid protein and kick the immune system into manufacturing antibodies against the virus. Once antibodies are made in large enough numbers to the viral protein, any Covid in the body will then be attacked by killer T-cells.

The theory is good but no one really knows for sure what will happen – in the short or long term. One of the first assumptions is that the pre-made Covid m-RNA will not enter the nucleus. There’s no evidence that regular human cell m-RNA will enter the nucleus – remember human m-RNA is typically made in the nucleus as it “reads” the gene on a DNA molecule and the sent to the cell’s cytoplasm. I don’t think anyone has done a study on whether or not m-RNA can enter the nucleus. There are RNA viruses that attack human cells but they use the machinery of the cytoplasm of the human cell to replicate, not the nuclear machinery.

Messenger RNA is also short lived. In some cases, it stays around only a few seconds – enough time at the micro level. It also degrades over time. How long it lasts and how long it is effective in making the Covid protein is still unknown. That’s part of the reason why they issue this vaccine in two doses – 21 days apart. It’s hoped that memory cells in the blood stream will re-boost the immunity. It’s much like once you get chicken pox, you don’t get it again even after re-exposure. Your memory cells have the information available to fight any re-introduction of the virus to your system.

Some of the other manufacturers of the Covid vaccines use other methods. Some use killed Covid virus (like in flu vaccines). Others create the viral protein and inject you simply with that. Only time will tell which approach is best. The vaccine used in England is a Pfizer vaccine and we should soon know some of the early side effects of the m-RNA vaccine but not the long term effects.

My song recommendation is “Blue Skies” by Willie Nelson. We need a little hope out there.

Stay tuned and stay safe.

30 November 2020

In one of my previous posts, I mentioned the problems the Boy Scouts of America were having. Since that time, I’ve been thinking of my experiences with the scouts and in particular, my experiences at Camp Kickapoo in Clinton, Mississippi. I know, the name is silly sounding but in reality, the Kickapoo people really did exist. They spoke the Algonquin language.

Camp Kickapoo goes way back. There is a totem pole that stood in front of the trading post that dated to 1927. I remember exploring the back area of the camp and finding old, abandoned cabins with the early 1920’s carved into the wood of the cabins. The Andrew Jackson Council of the Boy Scouts of America eventually sold the land for development and moved the camp further south closer to Hazelhurst, Mississippi. It’s called the Hood Scout Reservation.

I spent several years there as a camp counselor and loved every minute of it. When I first started going as a scout, the camp was in operation for 8 weeks. Later, when I became a counselor, it shifted to 6 week of operation. Troops would come in on a Sunday and leave the following Saturday morning. We would typically have 8-10 troops per week. My first visit was as a second class scout trying to become a first class scout. I also attempted (and earned) my first merit badge there – Surveying.

There were only a few buildings at the camp. The dining hall was the largest but there was a trading post, a health lodge (with a hot water shower), a chief’s lodge (where the camp director stayed – also with hot water) and a quonset hut for storage. Everything else were cabins or tents. Kickapoo Lake was a several acre lake where rowing, swimming, lifesaving and canoeing merit badges were taught.

My favorite of all the building was the chief’s lodge – a real log cabin with a basement. Upstairs had a kitchen, bedroom and fireplace in the living room.

I think my first year as counselor must have been in either 1962 or 1963. The first few years on the staff you earned $5 credit at the trading post. That’s not $5 per week, but $5 for 8 weeks. Fortunately, my salary has increased over the years.

Camp staff, at first, lived in cabins near the Trading post. There were bunk beds with places for 10 staff members. All the campers lived in cabins also. Some time later, everything changed to tents. Staff lived in tents (on top of tent platforms) for six weeks.

Conditions were primitive. There were only group cold showers. Staff had electricity but not the campers. The bathroom was a two seat latrine in the staff area. The campers had to make do with a one seat latrine. You washed your face and brushed your teeth at a water trough near the cabins.

The work was pretty much dawn to dusk. As a camp staff member you had to be up at 6 am. I usually made it out of my bunk by 5:30 and went to the dining hall for some of Chester’s coffee. Chester was a very tall, very black, very imposing man who was once a chef for a general’s staff in the army. His real job was as a principle at the all black junior high school in Brandon, Mississippi. He was probably the most erudite person I’ve ever met. He taught literature to his students at the junior high.

He always brought with him some of his students at the junior high to provide them with a job in the summer. He turned out three meals a day for approximately 150-200 kids and adults for six weeks. Some mornings I would make it in before Chester and he taught me how to make the coffee in the largest coffee urn I’ve ever seen. The secret ingredient was egg shells in the grounds to absorb the oil in the coffee beans and a sprinkle of salt to enhance the flavor.

Chester was an outstanding cook and his meals were not to be missed. One or two staff had to sit at a troop table to engage the scouts and scoutmaster in conversation. Usually by the time the communal food bowls got to me, there was very little left. You could go for refills but only so many. I started to lose weight because the food never got down to me at the end of the table.

My solution was to engage the scouts with some biology. I told every thing I knew that would gross the kids out to get them to lose their appetites. I finally got my fill and even started to gain some weight after that.

I’m pretty sure the Andrew Jackson Council would pay any price to ensure Chester would return to the camp summer after summer. He was probably the highest paid staffer in the camp and deserved every penny.

At 8 am we hoisted the colors in front of the dining hall. Breakfast was from 6:30 to 7:30 am and at 9 am classes would start for second class and first class instruction and merit badges. Lunch was from noon until 1 pm then more classes until around 3 pm. Free time was 4 pm until 6 pm where scouts could go swimming, canoeing, rowing, skeet shooting, etc. The evening meal was at 6 and the opening campfire was at 8 pm until daylight savings time came into existence and we had to postpone the campfire until 9 in order to have the campfire in the dark. There was another closing campfire on Friday night. In between we didn’t do campfires at the circle but simply did skits, sing-alongs, and any other thing we could do to entertain the scouts.

The reason was the lighting of the campfire needed dark was we had someone dress up in a chief’s headdress and breechclout and intone “To the god of the east, to the god of the south, to the god of the west, to the god of the north, let the campfire be lit.”

Early during my staff days, that meant two equally costumed staff members would come out with kerosene torches and light the campfire. Later, someone got the bright idea to run a steel cable from the back of the fire to a tree near the lake. Once the intonation was complete, someone in the tree would ignite a burlap wrapped tube soaked in kerosene and turn it loose and it would appear to the scouts that a ball of flame came from the sky to light the campfire.

One night, after the intonation, nothing happened. It was repeated. Nothing happened. Again, a third time. Nothing. Finally after the fourth time, a tiny voice in the distance said “The cat peed on the matches.” There was a pet cat in one of the staff cabins that continually left little calling cards on peoples’ beds and in their duffle bags. For someone it particularly didn’t like, it peed in their duffle bags. Apparently, that’s where one staffer kept the matches for the campfire lighting.

At five pm every afternoon, we held retreat in front of the dining hall. On Sunday afternoon, the camp staff showed the scouts how to lower the colors while someone bugled taps. The troops would form a massive square-bottomed U with the upper ends of the U at the porch of the dining hall.

After the first afternoon retreat, the troops would take turns lowering the flag and folding it properly. Whoever on the staff got up earliest would usually raise the flag in the morning.

Early on in my staff career at the camp, we realized that kids simply ran wild at night. It got to where we were making nightly trips to Jackson to the emergency room for some scout who was running up and down the hills of the camp and tripped on a root and broke a leg or arm. Someone would come to the staff quarters and get us up around 1 am and off we’d go. We not only lost that night of sleep but had to teach classes all the next day and not get into bed until after 10 pm taps.

One of two times of that was enough. Someone hit on a wonderful idea. Adjacent to the camp was an old cow pasture that had plenty of old weather bleached cow skulls. We picked up about 5 of those and scattered them along the most traveled trails of the camp about scout-head high. We took a few nights to walk the trails ourselves to find foxfire – a fungus that bioluminesces. We’d stuff the foxfire into the eye sockets of the cow skulls and on the first night’s campfire, we told ghost story after ghost story.

It didn’t take long after that first night of ghost stories that when the first scout started running up and down the trails that they encountered this skull-like feature with green-glowing eye sockets. Off in the night we’d hear this blood curdling scream and then total silence. Word got around quickly there were ghosts in the woods at night. It put and end to the emergency room visits and we finally got to sleep through the night.

One fun night was when Shawn Loper and Sooky Sullivan would perform Little Nemo. Shawn was the face, chest and legs (using his arms stuck in a pair of boots) and Sooky was the arms of Little Nemo. Shawn would have this roving commentary about how it was time to eat, time to shave, time to cross his legs, etc. It was hilarious and was probably the biggest hit of the week.

Friday nights were reserved for the Order of the Arrow (OAA) ceremony. Scouts chosen by their scoutmasters were “tapped.” Staff would dress in Indian costume and perform the “tap” dance where we would dance through the rows and tiers of scouts around the campfire. Someone would stand behind the chosen scout or scouts (usually one or two per troop) and hold a handkerchief over their head (unbeknownst to them) and one of the Indians would come up and rap on their right shoulder three times with a long dowel (to represent an arrow) and break it over their shoulder. It would really startle the selected candidate.

It eventually got out of hand and some of the staff decided to really rap the kid and the dowel would break and go flying off into the crowd. Later, it ended up with a hand slap to the shoulders to prevent injuries.

One year, our Program Director, Casey Murphree, decided we needed to celebrate the 4th of July. There was an island in Kickapoo Lake in front of the council ring where we did campfires. It was overgrown. He decided we needed to clear it off and build a fort (Fort McHenry). On the fourth, we used rowboats to suggest the British fleet and used Roman candles to shoot at the fort. Not only that, Casey purchased fireworks and had the entire campfire of scouts and scoutmasters to walk down to the edge of the lake to see them explode over “Fort McHenry.” It was a great success. That was also parents’ night and they loved it.

Word got around to the next week’s troops and the scoutmasters all chipped in for another attack on the fort and purchased new fireworks. One of the provisional scoutmasters (some troops didn’t attend camp but would send one or two kids from their troop to a provisional troop) wanted to shoot one of the buzz bombs off.

As the crowd of scouts, scoutmasters and parents started moving en masse from the council ring to the lake, the provisional scoutmaster lit the buzz bomb. At the last second, when he lit the match, the light of the match showed me he had the buzz bomb upside down. I tried to stop him but he lit it before I could get to him. Instead of going straight up in the air, it moved horizontally directly towards the oncoming crowd. I’ve never seen 300 people stop in mid step before but that’s what they did when that buzz bomb headed straight towards them. At the very last second, it righted itself and went straight up over the crowds’ heads and burst. Disaster averted.

There are so many exploits I could relate and maybe will in future posts. I really grew as a person and learned to work and live with others in confining situations. Many of the friendships lasted well into my college years and beyond. One of my best friends in life I met while teaching the Nature merit badge.

My song recommendation is the first one on the video: “Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah” by Allan Sherman. It was a big hit in the 60’s and I’ve loved that song ever since.

Stay tuned and stay safe!

26 November 2020

Happy Thanksgiving! Melinda, a friend, re-posted on Instagram an interesting statement. “I thought 2020 would be the year I got everything I wanted. Now I know 2020 is the year I appreciate everything I have.” Good sentiment! All in all, I’m fortunate that I have a home, food, friends, and health.

Of course, the pandemic still rages and so does Trump – not about the pandemic but the election. I’m very concerned about the number of travelers over the Thanksgiving holiday and the potential spread of the virus. Florida had over 8,000 cases yesterday. Fortunately, Broward county seems to be doing OK on the number of hospital beds and ICU beds – at least for now.

Another thing to be thankful for today is the weather in Fort Lauderdale. Clear, cool (for us) and low humidity. Walking in this is a pleasure. I had good intentions on doing my yoga stretches also this morning and then my abbreviated routine in the pool but decided to take the day off. I’ve kind of come to the conclusion that I need to alternate days of exercise in the pool because of my biceps tendon. Two days in a row of swimming and I begin to get warning signs.

After my last post about crosswords, you might guess that my printing of crosswords has come back to bite me. My printer will not print anything if the cartridge needs replacing – no matter whether it is photo black, regular black, cyan, yellow or magenta. It told me today to “go fish.” I ordered the entire pack on Amazon and with tax – it runs to $75 and change. I always get the manufacturers cartridges. I had a bad experience with off brand and recycled cartridges a few years ago and learned my lesson on those. Even though I have Amazon Prime and supposedly next day shipping, they are only promising delivery on December 1. Where’s my instant gratification?

Today, I’ll Facetime with my cousin Jimmie and her husband Stephen around 5:30 pm. I’ve already prepared cornbread dressing, cranberry sauce, and sweet potato soufflé. Later today I’ll add glazed carrots. Desert will be the New York Times recipe for chocolate chip cookies. I made the dough yesterday and for best results, the Times recommends refrigerating over night. Not sure it makes that much difference with all the sugar and chocolate in the cookie.

In my last post, I provided a “movie” of photos of my Dad during World War II. Today, I’m posting his time in Korea. Again, how he survived two world conflicts is beyond me. I thought I was doing pretty good not to be sent to Viet Nam.

My understanding is Dad was not in the infantry in Korea but with the Army Corps of Engineers. Today, the Army Corps of Engineers is best known for flood control in the United States but they are a branch of the U.S. Army and back then, they were like the Seabees, the naval construction group. Also like the Seabees, they fought battles while putting in bridges, paving roads, building revetments, etc. It was dangerous work and could get you killed as fast or faster than a regular infantryman.

This stent with the Corps in Korea kept Dad in good stead with the Mississippi State Highway Department. He worked off and on with them for 33 years and was most often used as a bridge inspector. He was the person who would sign off on the stages of construction of bridges on a job site.

One time, Mississippi had more than its usual share of 80 inches of rain a year and the flooding destroyed some small bridges scattered throughout the counties. The solution was to put to use some World War II surplus Bailey bridges until contracts could be signed to replace the washed out bridges. The state apparently was either gifted these after the war or purchased them at discounts.

Dad was the only person in the entire state that had any experience in construction of Bailey bridges so he was kept very busy that year throughout the state.

Strange as it may seem, many of the construction foremen for the state weren’t too adept at reading blueprints. I remember one summer one construction foreman coming to the house several times to have Dad explain the blueprints to him – even though Dad wasn’t working for the state at that particular time.

Another time, a construction company was trying to build a bridge in Leake county and was having trouble. He went to the job site and found they were trying to excavate the river bed in order to put the piers in to hold the bridge. Dad quickly explained you cannot dig out sand beds in a river – the river will simply refill the hole with more sand immediately. He finally convinced them they had to pile drive the piers.

Even the state engineers were a problem for him. Engineers in the state office seldom went to a job site. They submitted a set of plans to him for drainage for I-20 near Pelahatchie, Mississippi. He immediately noticed the engineers had all the drainage heading south. Pelahatchie creek runs north. The engineers wouldn’t believe him and came out to the sign and ended up much chagrined. He saved the state a whole lot of money with that one episode.

Dad’s experiences in Korea started at the end of WWII when he was discharged. They called the men into a room and said if you didn’t want to be a member of the Army reserve, it would take 3 months to process your paperwork. For those that would sign up for the reserve, you could leave within the week. Dad wanted to get home so he signed up for the reserve.

Unlike Viet Nam, the reserve and National Guard were never called up. Everyone was drafted for that conflict or you were already in the military. During Korea, the first people called up were the reserves.

Dad went through training at Aberdeen Proving Grounds at Havre de Grace, Maryland. This was where the military innovated and experimented with artillery for the army. The family went with him – me, Archie, and Mother. We lived in a trailer and probably spent one of the snowiest winters in Maryland history there. There is also the picture of the snowman we built (and which Archie knocked over to make me cry).

From Aberdeen Proving Grounds the family moved back to Morton, Mississippi with wonderful stops along the Blue Ridge Parkway. I’ve included photos of all three locations. Dad shipped out from the west coast on board the USNS Gen. Nelson M. Walker. The ship headed towards Midway Island – famous for a last stand against the Japanese during WWII. At Midway, he had additional schooling. From there he was flown to Japan for even more schooling before being sent to Korea.

Apparently at one point, Dad was escorting Sygman Rhee to a reviewing stand where the troops passed in review in front of Rhee. There’s also a photo of him at the famous 38th parallel of Korea. Dad never talked too much about WWII and if anything, he talked even less about Korea. I do know that I could never get him back on a plane. He flew several times during WWII and Korea but swore he would never get on another plane again. He made good on that promise.

Once, when our family was staying with my grandmother Ruby, I explored the attic of her house. Ruby would have me go up on occasion and pull something down – Christmas decorations, clothing, dishes – whatever she stored up there. There were two old trunks up in the attic and one day when nothing was going on (and no one was in the house) I went into the attic and explored the trunks. I found all of Dad’s medals and insignias and army uniforms. Today, I only have some of his ribbons. I have no idea what happened to the rest.

I still have one of the trunks.

My song recommendation for today is Patti Page’s Tennessee Waltz. I couldn’t find anything that would be appropriate to the Blue Ridge or Havre de Grace or Korea but at least Patti’s of the right time frame. Oh yea, I also love the song!

Stay tuned and stay safe!

25 November 2020

I was getting low on printed crossword puzzles. Thinking of things to do if a hurricane hits, I decided to stock up on daily crossword puzzles. I figured even if my generator conked out, I could do them during daylight hours to while away the time. Once you’ve experienced 2 1/2 weeks without electricity you realize how boring it can be. I even have a few jigsaw puzzles in reserve.

It never occurred to me that a pandemic is a lot like being in the aftermath of a hurricane. I started going through my stash of puzzles very quickly. I had a clipboard full of daily puzzles at least an inch high. I even quit printing them because they couldn’t fit on the clipboard. However, recently I noticed I was down to about 1/8 of an inch of puzzles.

My go to puzzles are the Los Angles Times crossword compliments of my digital Washington Post subscription and the New York Times puzzle compliments of my digital subscription to the Miami Herald. The Herald also has a Universal crossword every edition so, if things work out well, I end up with three puzzles a day. My routine is to work the LA Times puzzle in the morning with my second breakfast. My first breakfast is a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee in front of the computer (and printing the puzzles). After my morning walk, I do a second breakfast of 1/2 grapefruit and my second cup of coffee. It’s then I work the LA Times puzzle. I generally do not work a puzzle after that – only the morning.

During the pandemic, I go nowhere other than my morning walk or afternoon bike ride. I do yoga stretches and, arm permitting, swim laps. I have a doctor’s appointment perhaps once a month and when out for that, I make as many stops as necessary to stock up on items. In a worse case scenario, I end up having to make a special run to the pool store for chemicals but other than that, I’ve been home bound since March. You can only read so much during the day so I’ve begun working 2 or 3 puzzles a day – hence the depletion of my stash. I’ve started back printing 3 puzzles a day. It’s a waste of ink but I don’t like doing puzzles online. The ink cost is worth it.

It was my Dad that got me started on reading newspapers. He would get down on the floor with me and we’d read the Sunday comics together. That lead to reading stories in the paper and from then on, I was hooked. Everywhere I’ve ever lived I’ve subscribed to the local paper. My favorite was the Commerical Appeal out of Memphis during my Ole Miss days. You could literally set your watch by the delivery of that paper in the morning.

When I moved to Fort Lauderdale, I subscribed to the Miami Herald, not the Sun-Sentinel, the local paper. The Sentinel was good on local news but that was about it. It was also, at the time, extremely conservative. The Herald, at the time, had a national reputation and was more balanced. I finally quit it when the Monday paper became so thin in pages and all of that was mostly advertising. It didn’t help that the paper couldn’t keep delivery people. You’d change carriers three or four times a year and sometimes the paper would be delivered and sometimes not. The golden age of newspapers seem to be gone forever. The Times-Picayune of New Orleans has gone totally online and no longer offers a print version.

I subscribe the several online papers: New York Times, Washington Post, Miami Herald, Sun-Sentinel, and the San Francisco Chronicle. Those five cost me $68.44/month. The Miami Herald delivered newspaper is cheaper (around $165/year) but that now only includes 6 days a week. Five online papers is perhaps a bit excessive but it lets me keep tabs on local and coastal news sources.

What’s interesting is how different each online version is. All have different screens for tablets and phones. The desk top version is also different. The worst desktop version is the Sun-Sentinel. Whoever laid out that web site was a sadist. I guess my reading that version makes me a masochist.

It’s been a major attitude shift going from a paper version of newspapers to an online version. I still don’t like it but it looks as though that is the future. Storefronts seem to be going the way of the dodo. Although Amazon still rules the online shopping niche, other entities are beginning to chip away. Add the pandemic to this and you have a major culture shift in progress.

Continuing with my retrospective of my Dad, today’s video is WWII. Dad went to Officers Candidate School (OCS) at Fort Benning, Georgia in 1942. From there he was shipped to the Pacific Theater under the overall army command of Douglas MacArthur.

He tells me of his time in Australia when Eleanor Roosevelt came to speak. He was not a fan. He said she had a shrill voice and didn’t really inspire him.

MacArthur, who was headquarter in Australia (having been secreted from the Philippines) was in a tenuous position. Most of the American effort was centered on Germany. The Pacific is vast and the Navy was still recovering from Pearl Harbor. The Japanese had a foothold in Papua New Guinea and were trying to capture Port Moresby on the southern coast. Australian and American troops in New Guinea were holding on by their fingernails. Port Moresby was being bombed daily and the Japanese had even launched air attacks on Darwin, Australia and along the northern coast of Australia. Such were the conditions when Dad was thrown into the fighting.

Some of the fiercest fighting was in the mountains of Papua New Guinea. The Australians were designated to hold the line against the Japanese attacks in the mountains and the Americans were sent to attack the Japanese along the coast. Buna was an especially difficult battle that Dad was a part of along with the area near the Nigia River – really a stream near Berlin Harbor. There is a book written about the Buna campaign and it was particularly brutal. The book was actually written about the 32nd division which was Dad’s division.

Supplies and equipment were virtually nonexistent yet MacArthur decided on an amphibious landing. The long and short of it was the campaign bogged down and there was terrific fighting – much of it hand-to-hand. MacArthur was severely criticized for his planning because of the loss of life in the fighting. Some deemed it more a political act to establish MacArthur’s reputation after escaping the Philippines.

From there Dad was shipped with his division to the Philippines with MacArthur. The famous “I have returned” newsreel of MacArthur wading ashore was at a fairly well established beachhead after the amphibious assault. The real fighting occurred inland and in the cities, particularly Manila.

His division was involved in the smashing of the famous Yamashita Line of island of Leyte and later the invasion and taking of Luzon. The Leyte operating was particularly brutal with more hand-to-hand fighting.

A lot of the men in the division were from the Wisconsin National Guard. Dad was eventually made a captain and I think he pretty much stayed with the division throughout the war. It was a testament to him that many men who survived stayed in contact with him through the division’s newsletter over the later years and some even visited him in Pulaski.

PTSD was not in the lexicon of WWII but Dad certainly exhibited signs of it. He became an alcoholic and had nightmares the rest of his life. I learned from Mother at a very early age never to go wake him while he was sleeping because he felt he was in hand-to-hand combat with the Japanese. How he survived WWII I’ll never know but he did the double miracle and survived Korea also.

The movie starts like much of the prelude to war. GI’s and some girls.

It then moves to some area in the Pacific with supply ships. The first scene of the supply ship shows a plane being shot down. You soon see scenes of a harbor where GI’s and supplies are temporarily offloaded.

Next up comes the building of an air strip and the landing of what I think is the B-25 Mitchell bomber – a medium bomber made by North American Aviation named after Billy Mitchell, a pioneer in U.S. aviation.

Next is a 105 mm Howitzer Mobile Carriage, the M7 Priest. It’s interesting to see the relaxed looks on the mens’ faces. Compare that to some of the upcoming battle scenes and those mens’ faces.

Large parts of the jungle are devastated due to bombardment from ships offshore. There is one blurred shot of a beach scene where a mortar is in operation. The shot with three arrows has “Japs” as its heading. Dad is apparently showing three Japanese positions on this island.

The image of the GI standing next to a sign reading Nigia River is on the island of Papua New Guinea. This was part of the Buna campaign on that island.

Even during war there was time for R&R. One scene shows a USO tour performance. Then, when left to their own imagination for a good time, you see a volleyball game, GI’s mugging for the camera. There’s even swim call.

Finally, there are captured Japanese soliders – a rarity in the Pacific Theater. I end the movie with the medals earned by my father in the Pacific.

My song recommendation is actually an entire album: Richard Rogers’ Victory at Sea. Even better, rent or buy the entire video set. The music is stirring if nothing else. The war in the Pacific was mainly a naval battle with significant, costly land engagements. However, without control of the Pacific Ocean, the land battles would have never been fought.

Stay tuned and stay safe!

16 November 2020

It was a busy day in the neighborhood. The weather was beautiful and the neighborhood saw the sun for the second day in a row. There wasn’t even a rainstorm during the entire day. I made my short walk this morning (short, medium, long, and very long varieties) and did my yoga stretches.

I was just about to go swim my laps when I noticed I really needed to rake the leaves around the pool, otherwise, they would just blow into the pool and clog the filter. I then noticed how the grass had grown over the border that edges the pool and trapped numerous leaves under the grass.

I pulled out my electric hedge trimmer and started in on the overhanging grass. It soon shut off and I realized that a repair to the electrical cord had worn through. I cogitated on that for a while and then decided to use the battery powered weed eater. That worked pretty well.

By the time I had trimmed all the overhang and packed it into the yard waste container and hauled that out for tomorrow’s pickup, I was hot and exhausted. Instead of swimming, I just jumped in the pool and cooled down.

One problem was I had let the overhang go too long and it discolored the edge of the pool deck. I was too tired to do anything about it then but thought maybe late afternoon would be a good time to attack it. The problem was I needed a scrub brush and the one I have is like a pencil stub. There’s just nothing left of the bristles. I decided to head to Ace Hardware to pick up a new brush, especially since Ace sent me a $5 coupon for my birthday.

I purchased the brush and then decided to restock some booze while out and about. Total Wine is next door to Ace so it was convenient. One store down from Total Wine is Publix. I headed there next.

This last week I’ve ordered delivery from Publix twice. My cousin Jimmie and I talked this week about Thanksgiving and particularly about cranberry sauce. I gave her my favorite recipe the last Thanksgiving I spent with them. It got me to thinking about making some cranberry sauce just as a condiment for – well, just about anything. I thought I ordered cranberries for my last delivery but I realized I either didn’t lock it in when I ordered it online or they forgot to include it in the order.

I found two bags at Publix and came home and made a batch. That got me in the mood for cornbread dressing so I made that. It looks like Thanksgiving came early to the Searcy household.

While waiting for the cornbread to cool to make the dressing, I attacked the staining on the pool deck with the new scrub brush and diluted bleach. It worked but scrubbing the pool deck takes a lot out of you. I headed back into the pool to cool down one more time.

Dinner tonight was simple – cornbread dressing and cranberry sauce. I did cheat and use chicken stock in the dressing but other than that, it’s pretty much vegetarian.

Yesterday, Florida had over 10,000 new cases of Covid. It looks as though things are gonna get far worse. I listened to an episode of Diane Rhem and she had a member of Biden’s new pandemic committee on. He was pretty much doom and gloom and suggested there may be shortages of materials. That led me to stock up on some more freeze dried food from REI and dried fruits and beans from Publix.

On the way back from Publix, I put diesel in the jeep. I still had a half a tank left from my last fill-up in March of this year. That gives you some indication of how often I get out and about.

For the life of me, I cannot understand why people will not take this pandemic seriously. Thanksgiving could push the U.S. over the edge on the number of cases and deaths.

I read the other day that the Boy Scouts of America now has over 82,000 cases of sexual abuse filed against it before the deadline for filing for court action. Fortunately, I never experienced any of that although I don’t doubt that it went on.

I joined the Boy Scouts later than most. Mother made an early attempt with me and Cub Scouts but that died out pretty quickly. I was 15 when my parents encouraged me to join Troop 28 in Morton. We met at the National Guard Armory and the Scoutmaster was H.D. Polk and the Assistant Scoutmaster was John D. Stokes. Both were amazing gentlemen and excellent role models.

I was shy, skinny, nerdy, and every negative thing you can think of and most of the boys in the troop were the same ones I knew in high school. That was not a plus. They tended to tease and berate but for some reason I stuck it out and eventually made Tenderfoot. One of the good things about scouting is it is goal oriented and it encourages advancement in ranks from Tenderfoot, Second Class, First Class, Star, Life, and Eagle scout. I eventually worked my way up to Eagle.

Another benefit was it taught me how to interact with others. I didn’t do that very well as a kid and scouting taught me self confidence. Summer camp brought more interaction with people from throughout the Andrew Jackson Council which encompassed the Mississippi Delta, all of greater Jackson, east to Newton, and south to Magnolia.

I learned a lot of scout craft but also a lot about people. Eventually I applied as a camp counselor and look back fondly on that part of my life. A lot of what made me what I am today I can thank the scouts. I built some amazing, long term friendships through the organization. Either I was extremely naive or there wasn’t any sexual abuse going on all though my experience with scouting. Again, I’m not discounting the 82,000 complaints – I just never experienced that myself.

My song recommendation is a little reminiscent of my scouting days – “The Happy Wanderer.” I recommend the Frank Weir and His Orchestra version. We often sang this during hikes. The song was originally written by Florenz Friedrich Sigismund (1791–1877). I’m sure the words have changed over the years. Here are the lyrics, thanks to scoutsongs.com.

THE HAPPY WANDERER

I love to go a-wandering, 
Along the mountain track, 
And as I go, I love to sing, 
My knapsack on my back. 

Chorus:
Val-deri,Val-dera,
Val-deri,
Val-dera-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha 
Val-deri,Val-dera. 
My knapsack on my back.

I love to wander by the stream 
That dances in the sun, 
So joyously it calls to me, 
“Come! Join my happy song!”

I wave my hat to all I meet, 
And they wave back to me, 
And blackbirds call so loud and sweet 
From ev’ry green wood tree.

High overhead, the skylarks wing, 
They never rest at home 
But just like me, they love to sing, 
As o’er the world we roam.

Oh, may I go a-wandering 
Until the day I die! 
Oh, may I always laugh and sing, 
Beneath God’s clear blue sky!

11 November 2020

I’d like to offer a salute to fellow veterans. Especially my Dad. That he was able to survive not only WWII but also Korea is amazing. As I have written before, the war never left him. He had nightmares until the day he died.

Today is bittersweet for another reason. Veterans Day also marks five years since I had Rocky put down. I still miss that damned dog! Part of me wants to get another and part of me rebels at trying to replace him.

As far as pandemic news, I called today and found I was negative. They were supposed to call me but the five day waiting period had passed. They got to my results pretty quickly once I called.

Florida has seen a 28% increase in cases since November 1st. I suspect this current outbreak will surpass anything like we’ve seen before. Again, I’m optimistic about a vaccine but wonder if it will be too little too late.

After all the renovation of the flooring and kitchen, and painting of walls, I was a little concerned that after Citizens Insurance paid out $36k they would not renew my policy. I normally get my renewal notice around the first of November. I went online today and saw it was ready for renewal. I paid online as fast as I could before they could change their mind. My Citizens policy includes wind coverage which a lot of companies do not. The price for renewal was $3821.00 for 12 months. Last year the cost was $3634 so it only increased $287. However, with the number of hurricanes this year, I suspect it will certainly increase a minimum of 10% for 2022.

The neighborhood is drying out. I could cross streets on my walk today pretty easily except for one place along Riverland Road that always floods and always keeps water. However, we are still under a flood watch tonight. November 30th is the last day of hurricane season. However, the last two years, we’ve had storms before the start date. I don’t think it will be too long before we start getting storms after the end date. Climate change in action!

Every so often someone asks me if I ever think of moving somewhere where hurricanes are less frequent that southeast Florida. I have but I’m not sure where I could go. The west coast has earthquakes and forest fires. The southeast has tornadoes. Edgar Cacye thought Virginia Beach, Virginia was the safest place to live in the states but they are susceptible to hurricanes, earthquakes, waterspouts and a giant tidal wave if part of the Canary Islands breaks off into the ocean. I think I’ll just stay here for a while. At least you get forewarning for hurricanes – no so much tornadoes.

Speaking of tornadoes, I’ve seen two funnel clouds in my life, both in Florida. The first was a waterspout off the coast and the second was sitting in my old white pickup on the overpass to I-95. I looked into my rear view mirror and saw a tornado out west, behind me.

Since I grew up mostly in Mississippi, tornadoes were a way of life. I remember going down into the basement of Mr. McCrene’s house in Boyle, Mississippi for a potential tornado. Mom and Dad waked Archie and me and took us down. The Mississippi Delta tends to attract those things. Mr. McCrene was a cotton farmer and his cotton fields backed right up to the house. It was a two story house with a kid friendly basement that Archie and I spent many hours exploring. By the way, until my niece sent me this clipping, I always assumed Mr. McCrene was spelled McCrain. It was certainly pronounced that way.

It was at his house in Boyle that Archie had to put down our dog, Sister Kate.
The back of the house had a screened porch and we’d let Sister Kate out onto the porch. A neighbor’s dog broke through the screen door and attacked her. The other dog punctured Sister Kate’s windpipe and Archie picked up the 22 rifle and walked out into the cotton patch and shot her to put her out of her misery. I don’t think he ever forgot that nor recovered from it. In reality, Sister Kate was his dog.

My next experience was in Mr. McLaurin’s house in Morton on Pulaski Road (MS 481 S). It missed us but I remember Dad piling all of us into a car and driving through the darkened countryside looking at the damage. It was eerie to say the least. Over time, I’ve seen the greenish-black funnel cloud (without the funnel) several times over my life. It certainly gets your attention and makes you understand how insignificant you are in the grand scheme of things.

Two tornadoes near Morton stand out for me. The first was when I was in Boy Scouts. I must have been in the 9th or 10th grade. I was standing across from the Gulf Cafe in Morton at Stuart’s furniture store when the fire station siren started blaring. That was used for not only fires but also tornadoes.

I was just stupidly standing there listening to the siren when James Russell Johnson’s wife rushed out of a store and grabbed me by the arm and said come with me. James Russell was the high school principal. If that was impetus enough, Mrs. Johnson had a no-nonsense, business first approach to life. You didn’t say no to her without some consequence.

I had known her all my life since she was Dr. Clark’s nurse. I asked where we were going and she said to the hospital. The hospital was on the opposite end of where we were on Main Street. She said it was going to get quite busy and she needed help.

When we got there, it was pandemonium. They were bringing in people from all around the surrounding area. The tornado had hit just a little north of town, and as you might guess, the poor black section. There were people in the hallways moaning with broken limbs, cuts, lacerations, and even some with gashes and compound fractures. She immediately put me to work.

Later, another kid showed up. He was new to the Boy Scout troop and his Dad was a veterinarian for B.C. Roger’s poultry plant. His Dad had been asked to come help at the hospital so he tagged along.

Not long after that, Mrs. Johnson grabs us both and asks us to help load someone on a gurney. She then wheeled them into an operating room. She came right back out and asked us to then move the person from the gurney to the operating table. The doctors were in sterile garb and there was no one to life from the gurney to the table.

I thought this was above my skillset since (1) I’d never been in an operating room (2) the person we were asked to move was, to put it mildly, very obese and (3) we weren’t dressed in scrubs or sterile gear of any kind. However, we weren’t presented any option.

Fortunately, I had been in scouts long enough to know how to do a two person carry. One person got on the left side of the person to be carried and another person got on the right side. You then slipped your arms under the person and locked wrists with the other person to lift. That’s what we did – for the rest of the night. I think I finally staggered home around 3 am. Mind you, all this was done with flashlights and emergency lighting. The entire county was without electricity.

When I had time to look up, it was Dr. Clark and the other kid’s veterinarian Dad operating. I wonder how many people learned they were being sewed up by a vet?

Another experience came when a tornado hit north of Morton (a seeming pattern) and destroyed a bunch of farms. The high school asked for volunteers and we were all loaded onto buses and sent to walk the woods looking for bodies. We never found any. We spent two days doing that.

One consequence of the damage was the number of nails ripped out of their planks and deposited in the fields. For a while, most farmers were desperate to find tractors with the old metal wheels. It only took one trip through a field and 4 flat tires on the tractors to realize they couldn’t use regular tractor tires.

Occasionally, I still dream about getting caught up in tornadoes. That type of trauma stays with you for life.

I’ve been at sea during two hurricanes. That’s pretty frightening as well. In one case, on board the CGC Reliance, out of Corpus Christi, three of four engines were out of service. We were doing 4 knots ahead of the storm and the storm was moving our way at 6 knots. Let’s just say it got pretty rough, particularly during my radio watch when books started flying past my head. All books on ships are in book cases with massive lips and also bungie cords to keep them from flying around. You learn quickly to eat saltines to keep something in your stomach so you can throw up that instead of bile.

The next time was also aboard the Reliance in Corpus. We started to get underway but I think we had engine failure (again) and we decided to ride the storm out in port – that’s a big no-no! Obviously, we didn’t have any choice. When I came on deck the next morning the boarding plank was at a 65° angle. To get aboard, you had to literally climb hand over hand. The storm surge had raised the ship about 8 feet above the dock. Normally, the boarding plank had about a 3-4° angle. Apparently the bosum’s mate knew what they were doing. There were three times the amount of lines tying the ship to the dock. I later found they were constantly releasing more line as the ship rose on the tidal surge.

I’ve been in one earthquake – strangely, in my graduate school office in the biology department at Ole Miss. Many people forget that there is a major fault in the Delta – the New Madrid fault. I was sitting there studying for some test when I noticed the water sloshing out of my aquarium onto the floor.

The New Madrid (pronounced MAD drid) was the fault whose seisim in 1811-1812 (after shocks) caused the earth to split open. There are written records of settlers in the region where they cut down trees to allow people to walk over deep chasms created by the earthquake. It caused a massive drop in one area and the Mississippi River diverted and formed Reelfoot lake in Tennessee. To fill Reelfoot, the Mississippi River supposedly flowed backwards for 4 days.

The New Madrid fault is very overdue for a major slip. Of course, the only seismic station at the time of my earthquake was an Ole Miss station in Holley Springs. After the earthquake, Ole Miss cut funding for the seismic station. Who needs those, anyway? Some seismologists think this fault has more potential for destruction that the San Andreas fault.

Then there are fires. When I worked for the Bureau of Land Management in Miles City, Montana, all employees were required to undergo forest fire safety training and we could be called out at any time to fight forest fires. During my short tenure with them, I never had to go out and fight a forest fire, thank goodness!

Actually, I had some pretty good training in firefighting. I went to the Naval firefighting school Treasure Island in San Francisco Bay. It was how to put out a ship’s fire but the concepts were the same (1) remove the fuel source, (2) cool the fuel source below kindling temperature and (3) remove any oxygen.

For some reason, I was put in charge of our squad. In one exercise, we were told to enter a room and fight a fire and if there were any leaks that popped out to immediately leave. We walked into the room and water was coming through the ceiling of the compartment and we proceeded to fight the fire. The trainer pulled us out and started screaming at me about not leaving the room during leaks. I screamed back at him that the ceiling was leaking when we walked in and I assumed he would not send us into a situation that had not been checked and it was OK to proceed to fight the fire. He got quiet and I think he realized no one had shut of the system from the previous fire trainees.

The next exercise was more intense. We were sent into a narrow tunnel-like space with a wood fire burning out of control. I was on the hose and the rest of my team were managing the hose behind me. The hose had enough pressure to peel the bark off a tree and you had to have four or five people to man a single hose. As I sprayed the fire, smoke billowed into the tunnel-like space. Several of my crew started to panic and back out. I had to turn around and cuss them out and tell them to get back on the hose. The fire was finally extinguished and we backed out – all of us coughing our lungs out. The trainer pulled me aside and gave me praise for stopping the panic. I felt pretty good about that.

Speaking of fires, my song recommendation is Bob Seger’s “Fire Lake.”

Stay tuned and stay safe!

9 November 2020

It’s been a busy 6 days since my last post. First the election results, Eta, and, as always, the pandemic.

Yesterday marked the third time in three days the new cases in the U.S. exceeded 126,000. I’m beginning to think the United States may be too late to get control of this, even with Pfizer’s news of 90% success rate with their vaccine. Florida marked 6,820 new cases and, more worrisome, significant increases in hospitalizations. Broward county jumped 56% in hospitalizations since the beginning of the increase.

It also came to light that state data on Covid which is not released to news media, medical professionals, nor anyone else were leaked by someone in DeSantis’ governors office to a blogger who has been referred to by some scientists as a conspiracy theorist on Covid. Her reading of the unauthorized data is that the number of Covid cases are far below what is being reported by Johns Hopkins – who insist the number of cases and deaths in Florida is significantly higher than reported.

I had my second Covid test on Tuesday, November 3rd. I was promised the results in 3-5 days and tomorrow is the 5th “business” day. If I don’t hear anything by tomorrow, I’ll call for the results on Wednesday. I wanted to get re-tested from all the people who have come in and out of my house during the renovations. At least I’ve never had any symptoms.

Ah Eta! I never trust forecasters so I closed up the house yesterday in anticipation of high winds and rain. I wasn’t too concerned about the winds from the tropical storm, although forecasters kept giving us ranges of 30-65 mph. Instead, my concern with most tropical storms and hurricanes is from tornadoes spawned from the weather system. The good news is I was safe and sound and actually opened up the shutters and moved everything back on the patio today.

I’m not sure which is more taxing – packing and closing everything up or unpacking and opening everything up. I have impact windows but I still close the shutters every time. I figure it’s cheaper to replace a shutter than a window.

Eta turned out to be mostly a rain event. Boy was it ever. Some areas of Broward county had 16 inches of rain in 48 hours. Fort Lauderdale had 8.9 inches in a 48 hour period. I’m not sure what the rainfall was in my neighborhood but several people posted on Facebook areas flooded within my neighborhood and I had a second hand account of someone saying they had never seen water so high in our area. I confirm that opinion. My street never floods but my street had the most water on it I had ever seen.

During my morning walk, I saw several place in the neighborhood that water had come up over the sidewalks. That never happens. Also, most storm drains I passed were not draining even though nothing was blocking the drain. The storm drains were overwhelmed and couldn’t drain the water fast enough.

We would have an intense band of showers that would last 10-15 minutes then a five minute break. The cycle repeated itself all day and all night. I was fortunate not to have any leaks in the house. The one area that tends to leak is the vent to the water heater but in a previous post, I told how I had to get back up on the roof and re-tar the vent stack. It seemed to have done the job!

All in all, it was a wild night. Around 9 pm last night I got a screeching alert on my phone from the National Weather Service about a flood warning. There were three more before I finally got my first cup of coffee this morning – two in the middle of the night. To finish it off, I’ve gotten two more during the day. By my count, that’s 6 within 24 hours and we are still under a flood warning.

To top it off, looks like Eta will double back and hit the western side of Florida near the Tampa-St. Pete area.

My song recommendation is Brook Benton’s “Rainy Night in Georgia” as a salute to Georgia perhaps turning blue and with Eta, there night is coming.

31 October 2020

Happy Halloween! It’s scary out there. The U.S. hit a new high for new Covid cases today. Florida’s dropped but even the newspapers admitted the reason for the drop was the decrease in testing across the state. It seems The Donald was right. The more you test, the more cases appear. The less you test, the new case number drops. Who knew?

What’s even more scary is after yesterday’s blog, the spice rack showed up on my doorstep. I texted Robert of Baxter Restoration and he showed up around 9 am this morning to install it. The restoration is complete and I signed off that I was satisfied (pretty much but not completely). He’ll return once more for me to endorse the check from Citizens over to his company.

Of course, there were problems. However, he did get it installed. The rack was not from KraftMaid but it is well constructed and has 4 racks for spices instead of the two from the old KraftMaid rack. The real problem was the new cabinet door for the spice rack opened from the right side.

Robert had to remove the door and attach it directly to the spice rack so that when you pull the door open, the rack comes with it. That’s the way the old rack worked but I suspect KraftMaid changed that to a right-side opening. In any case, it’s installed and already filled with spices.

As Robert worked on the installation, I started day 2 of the deep clean of the utility room. I started around 8:30 am and I quit at 5 pm. I had to take several long breaks but it was pretty much an all day project.

I pulled everything out from the walls (except the washer – I didn’t want to unbalance it) and washed the walls, the shelves, the window, and everything in between. The real hard part was removing everything from the shelves. I think I must have climbed the ladder 65 times today. I feel like I hiked the equivalent of a 15 mile hike – uphill.

I threw out a at least two 15 gallon garbage bags of stuff I didn’t really use. It made a little extra space on the shelves for me. It’s also interesting I found some things I didn’t remember having. I guess it’s a good thing to periodically clean that stuff out.

I have now cleaned everything in the house (except the A/C vents which don’t need it) with the exception of the garage. It can stay dirty for all I care. I need to take some Advil tonight so I’ll be able to function tomorrow. It seems perfect timing I completed the house cleaning on the same day the last installation was made and I signed off on the project. Not bad I guess from March until October 31st.

I think I’ll need the Advil, especially for my right arm. I put the reworked tendon to the test today. It seems everything I moved off the shelves today were heavy. I don’t know why I don’t have anything “light” in the utility room.

There was no walk this morning, no yoga and no swim. The cold front that was supposed to pass us last night and cause rain seems to have stalled over Fort Lauderdale. We’ve been under flood watch all day today and we’ve had several extreme downpours. More importantly, we had several lightning storms which dissuaded me from my morning walk.

Remember to set your clocks back tonight.

My song recommendation today is Vera Lynn’s “As Time Goes By.”

Stay tuned and stay safe!